#wanted to test out shading n shit with this. it turned out. eh??

[dragonskulls]

✧ John the Revelator ✧

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

In Tatters: Two

Steve walked next to Bucky, their hands laced together. It felt good. The sun was shining, and Spring was finally here. And this, right here, he reflected, squeezing Bucky’s hand, was one of his favorite things about this time. 

Affection wasn’t limited to dark corners or their apartment. They could hold hands. They could steal a kiss sometimes. It was just lovely. Comfortable. As they walked into the coffee shop looking for a snack and to find Bucky a coffee drink he might like, what he didn’t expect was for the shop to be mostly empty. He glanced down at his watch and nodded. It was after the morning rush but before the afternoon rush. Later then, he’d thought. 

But then, they’d gotten distracted earlier in the bathroom. And one thing had lead to another. And well. It had been a good morning. Good enough, at least that Bucky had let himself be dragged to another coffee shop. Another coffee shop, another try to find a drink he liked beyond Black coffee. Another chance to pander to Bucky’s sweet tooth. 

Still, neither of them expect to find one. And neither of them expect it when a girl breezes through the door. 

Her hair is bound up in a messy bun, fly aways escaping and falling to frame a heart-stoppingly pretty face. Below that, a series of fashion choices. Thick combat boots, a knee-length hunter green pleated skirt, a black and white flannel tied around her waist, and a black t-shirt bearing the word “Killjoys” in red script handwriting. Cute. Modern. But Cute, they decide with a glance at each other. But she didn’t seem terribly interested in talking. 

“You’re late,” one of the baristas called over the counter.

“I know, but I had a script to finish and then an episode to edit,” she says, yawning, “I haven’t even been home yet.”

“Did you sleep at all?” she asked.

“No, so do me a favor? Like three shots in that hippie.”

“Oh my god.”

“What? If my heart blows out of my chest, the hospital is like right around the corner.”

“Y/n,” she scolds, sliding you your pastry and taking your bank card.

“Eh, ‘s not like I’m using it anyway. Maybe a drag queen can soak it in formaldehyde and made a nice headpiece.”

That makes Bucky snort. Loudly enough that you turn around and give him a wink, “See, he gets it!” you tell the girl.

“Still, this much caffeine has GOT to be a liability. Ya, cryptid,” she says, handing you the cup.

“Yeah? Well, until I figure out who I’ve gotta blow to not do retail anymore, espresso and hope are all I got,” you say, giving her a mock salute and turning to stroll out the door.

“Hey,” the girl yells right as you’re at the doorway.

You half- turn with a ‘what?’ gesture.

“Tell Donny I need him to order me a new Lagoon Blue. And an Indigo Blonde.”

You nod and lope out, coffee in hand, and Steve and Bucky look at each other. They liked that. You were fucking feral, but still sweet. What they didn’t like was hearing a kid behind the counter say, “Fuck, she can blow me if she wants. I need a sugar baby.”

“With what fucking money?” the blue-haired girl asked, “She’s not gonna blow you unless your dick is gold plated, and you ejaculate chocolate. Not for no tip money and a coffee.”

__________

Bucky and Steve have a new favorite coffee shop after that. At first, they come in, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Figure out your schedule. But they always seem to just miss you. It’s disheartening but, at least the coffee is good, and the kids behind the counter are funny. 

Still. Even just the chance of seeing you is enough to keep them coming back. It keeps them wanting more.

So when you waltz through the door carrying with you the smell of a coming storm and for some inexplicable reason, a Chia Pet of Bob Ross, neither of them can breathe for a second. Your skirt, has sloths on in and your shirt is a white men’s button-down, A floppy sun hat shades your face. “Your usual, your highness?” A barista asked, grinning, clearly teasing you. 

“I told you, Ivy. If drunk me does things, Sober me was not in the driver's seat and can’t be held accountable.”

“How’s your ankle?” she giggles.

“Not too bad after jumping off a third-story balcony,” you admit, putting a cellophane-wrapped cookie on the counter.

Behind you, Steve and Bucky trade bemused looks. Your night had probably been a lot more interesting than theirs.

“What happened to Tinder Boy?” she asked.

“Oh my god. Ive. He lived with his mother and had unironic rocket ship sheets. I am not trying to do some Bates Motel shit.”

“It couldn’t be that bad.”

You sigh, “No joke, she walked in on us making out because like. I was gonna give him the benefit of the doubt because I, too, am broke as shit. But like. She told us to hurry up so she could come back and tuck him in when he was done.”

“No,” she gasped.

“Yeah. So... pretty sure I’m lucky I left that house with both kidneys.”

You yawn, and she hands you a coffee with a sympathetic smile, “It was your first date since Pash, though.”

“And it was creepy enough that I’m not dating ever again. No joke. Just gonna adopt a herd of yappy little dogs and be single forever,” you tell her, taking a sip.

“We just have to find you someone really hot,” she pressed.

“Can you put some brains in there for me this time? Test drives are entertaining, but I’d like to be able to carry on a conversation without my uterus cringing in fear.”

“That’s fair,” she said, picking up the chia pet, “Is this mine?”

“Yeah,” you say, “You know. Since Joey and I broke your other one.”

Her face lights up, and your smile, “Thanks!” she says, not waiting for a reply before scurrying to the back to put it away. 

You find an empty table in a patch of sunshine and sit down, watching people out the window. You like a slow start to your day. Some time to adjust to being awake. You’re blissfully oblivious to anything but the warmth of the cup in your hands. You don’t notice Steve and Bucky trying to work up the guts to come to talk to you. But when their bulky frames block out the sunshine that you’d been enjoying, you aren’t exactly disappointed.

When you look up, guarded but still smiling a little, Bucky feels his heart skip, and he knows Steve does too. You have pretty eyes and plump, juicy red lips. They have a soft spot for that kind of thing. “Yeah?” you ask, taking a sip of coffee.

“We couldn’t help overhearing about your last date,” Steve said, grinning.

“And do you want his number?” you counter mildly.

Bucky snorted, “No, but yours might be nice,” he said, “It’d be a damn shame if you didn’t give anyone else a chance.”

You cock your head and smile a little as you assess them, “So, you expect me to believe that Captain America and Bucky Barnes are interested in me?”

Steve takes a seat at your table, and Bucky follows suit, “Why not?”

“Because you don’t know anything about me,” you remind them, “I could be a psycho.”

“We know you’re funny.” Bucky said, “And I doubt you’re a psycho. Too many social skills.”

“Ted Bundy had social skills,” you counter.

When they look confused, you sigh, “Serial Killer,” you explain.

“Listen,” Steve said, smiling, “All we want is one date. A test drive if you will.”

When you smirk, Bucky gets a distinct impression that “test drive” doesn’t mean a date.

“A test drive, huh?” you say trying not to giggle. Your polite euphemism for a one-night stand sounds incredibly strange coming from Captain America. “We’ll see,” you stand up and pull a card from your bag easily, “Pick me up at 8?”

Bucky takes the card. It has your name and number on it. As well as an email. Apparently, it’s your card for freelance editing, writing, and photography. It was good to know you had gumption. You had to if you had enough money to live. 

“Yeah?” Steve said, grinning.

“I’ve made worse choices on a Saturday night,” you tease waltzing back out of the shop with your coffee in hand.

“Steve?” Bucky said slowly.

“Yeah Buck?” he answered

“What are we gonna wear?”

There was a silence as the gears ground to a halt in Steve’s head and he sighed, “Fuck.”

Tags:

@past-perfect-future-tense, @lookinsidemyhead, @rinkashirikitateku, @dumbubblegum

[hadesglance]

All hail the new queen... - 13 (Hades Original Story)

You fought your way through the maze of the underworld to make a deal with the King…intrigued the lonely king listens…

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten Part Eleven  Part Twelve

You stopped you bike in the lot outside of a large park. You were crazy to even try this but thinking back to that night over and over again. How you held Hades and he slept so soundly in your arms. The rest of the week you had checked his room, and every night he was racked with nightmares…you had to try for Hades’ sake even if it was crazy.

You swallowed down your anxiety and strode across the park to a quiet area away from the playgrounds and groups of teenagers that hung around. You took a deep breath in looking up to the sky seeing clear blue skies, “Alright…I know you can hear me…so please show up.”

You waited for a moment not hearing, seeing, or feeling anything. You felt your temper rise slightly, “Really!? You really want to make me beg for it, ‘cause you will be sorely disappointed, I don’t beg!”

Still nothing as you clenched your fist at your sides, “ZEUS! So, help me…I found a way into the Underworld…I WILL FIND A WAY TO YOU AND-”

“There’s t need to shout.” You heard the smug voice from behind you. He smirked as he crossed his arms a distant rumble sounded making his presence further known, “What can I do for you? Hades not giving you the satisfaction you need?”

“Can it, Pornstach, this isn’t even remotely about that.” You stepped toward him.

“‘Pornstach?’” He quirked an eyebrow quickly, “I’m assuming that’s an insult?”

“You would be correct…” You stopped in front of him with a huff, your irritation only rising.

“I’ll have you know…Hera, loves it.” He smiled confidently.

You smirked leaning toward him as you crossed your arms, “Hera, is being kind and lying to you.”

He blinked several times before looking away unable to find a way to dispute your statement, “What do you want?”

“You remember how you said you owed me?” He nodded as you took in g a deep breath, “Well…I want to cash in.”

“Alright…what is it? Pass a test…get you money…” He began to list off normal common wants and needs.

“I want you to let Hades miss the Titanomachy celebration.” You watched him freeze instantly, “I know it’s a lot to ask…”

“Ask? It’s something I can’t allow.” Zeus told you quickly, “I’m sorry, Y/N, ask for something else. Anything else.”

“Why can’t you? You know what it’s doing to him don’t you?” You watched this big giant ego of a man just deflate slightly as you pushed the subject, “Zeus, he hasn’t slept in days…and when he does get rest it’s just light. He can’t keep doing it, even if he is a god…it’s too much.”

“I know what’s happening and I’m aware of my brother’s unrest.” Zeus told you as he turned away.

You didn’t let him escape stepping in front of him, “Then let him stay home.”

“I can’t.” When you began to protest again Zeus raised a finger, “It’s his year. He’s the one who leads the ceremony, one of the original seven always does. It’s been half a century since the last one, so I can’t stop it and it wouldn’t be fair to pass the responsibility to one of my other siblings so late.”

You shook your head frowning, “I’m just so worried for him. He’s trying to hide it so much, but I can see how it’s bothers him. He’s anxious and afraid…”

Zeus nodded slowly before letting out a sigh, “Hades was the first son. Cronus had great plans for him and for it he made him suffer the most and the longest. Hades has… a lot to be anxious and afraid of.”

It surprised to you hear how accepting Zeus was. You did not figure him to be so accepting of one’s flaws, even his brothers, “You won’t tell me what happened, will you?”

“No.” He smiled shaking his head, “No, I can’t do that. It’s not my story to tell.”

“So I’ve heard.” You sighed looking away from him, “Zeus…please reconsider…”

“I would if I could…believe me I’ve changed the circumstances of this celebration many times and if it wasn’t happening in a week…I might have been able to do something, but it’s set in stone now.” He sighed, “It used to be every year…then every five…ten…now we’re at fifty years in between. It’s Hades’ turn and he will do what he must…next year it will be Poseidon, after that Hera, then Demeter…Hestia…Chiron and then myself…We owe to everyone to tell our story.”

“…how you saved the day?” You hugged yourself as you smelled rain on the air.

“No.” He shook his head smiling, “How we saved ourselves. You mortals chose a hero…I may have helped get my siblings out, but I’m far from the hero…a long time of ago I wouldn’t have said that and would have agreed with all of you. I have grown up since then.”

You looked at him, “So what? It’s all a show? The whole sex sex sex persona?”

“Again…A long time ago…” He cringed a little, “Look…I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. I have since paid for them over and over, again and again. I’m on decent terms with most of my children and I love my wife. I might flirt and be an asshole, but I do care a great deal about our world…this world…”

“Wow.” You smiled a little, “That gives me a little hope for this sad universe.”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

You chuckled a little, “You’re a god, let’s be real, your life is nothing but drama.”

“Eh, well…you’re not wrong.” He shrugged with a smile before letting out a long sigh, “I’m sorry I can’t do this for you.”

You stared at him as his eyes drifted upwards a slow smile curling up on his lips, “…whatever just popped into your head…no….no I don’t want it…”

“Consider it a gift…I’ll still owe you, of course.” Zeus smirked leaning down close to your ear and whispered, “This will be for my brother.”

“Zeus!” You called after him when he disappeared, another roll of thunder rippled across the sky. You didn’t like the sound of this ‘gift’, “Shit…”

Hades walked through the halls of the manor looking for you. You weren’t in your room or the library. The dining room was empty, and none of the shades had seen you in hours. He sighed entering his office and shutting his eyes reaching out to Charon at gate.

The Ferryman appeared before him. His mortal form suited him nicely, if all security guards looked as intimidating as Charon the world might have been a less scary place, “Sir? Can I help you with something?”

“Did Y/N go somewhere today?” Hades asked him leaning against his desk, “I can’t find her here.”

“She did take off earlier, she said she had an errand to run. That was about 9.” Charon told him.

“Errand? On a Friday…she doesn’t have school…Did she say when she would return?” Hades crossed his arms staring at him.

“No, sir.” An eyebrow shot up above the aviator glasses, “Is there something wrong?”

A loud rumble shook the house making them both look up as silence filled the house. A moment later heavy rain could be heard hitting against the roof.

“Just a feeling.” Hades whispered.

“Sir, I feel it’s important to remind you that she took Lana.” Charon put his arms behind his back.

“Lana?” Hades squinted at him confused for a moment before he stood up straight, “Oh…oh…thank you Charon, that will be all.”

Charon left as he pulled out his phone swiping up dialing your number quickly. It rang over and over until it went to voice mail. He silently cursed redialing as he felt a strange sensation fill his gut. Again, you didn’t answer.

He stared at his phone for a moment before putting it down on the desk. He had promised himself to trust you. To let you go about your life as normally as possible, but he couldn’t shake this strange feeling that something was amiss.

He shut his eyes reaching out across the distances of the city. Searching for his connection through the many souls. Each glowed a different hue depicting who they were and what line they came from. He went far from the manor through the rain, until he found you.

His eyes snapped open as he stood under an overpass. You were on the other side kneeling next to you bike cars whizzing past you. You were soaked and looked miserable as you checked it over.

When it was finally clear to pass, he ran over to you, “Y/N?”

Your head snapped up to him surprised, “Hades?”

“What are you doing? What happened?” He asked you quickly watching you stand up wiping your hands on your jeans.

“I broke down, just as it started to rain. I had to push her under here.” You sighed pulling out your phone, “And my battery conveniently died.”

The way you said everything insinuated there was more to the situation, “Are you okay?”

You looked back up to him smiling a little before you nodded, “Yeah, just wet and cold.”

Relief spread through him quickly. He began to take off his jacket, “We should get you warm then, and out of this rain.”

“Hades, you don’t-”

“I want to.” He interrupted you as he moved in putting his jacket around your shoulders. You stared up at him when he got so close. He wished you wouldn’t, the temptation was just too great.

His hand found its way to your face fingers tracing over your cheek as his thumb absently ran over your lower lip. Realizing what he’d done, he stepped away clearing his throat, “I’m sorry…”

You pulled his jacket closer around you, “I…it’s okay.”

“We should get you home.” He told you holding out his hand to you.

“I’m not going to leave Lana here.” You told him giving him a side eye.

“You’re going to get sick. You’re soaked to the bone.” He protested, “I’ll have Charon come retrieve it, if it makes you feel better…but really you are going to catch a cold.”

“I’ve got a very nice jacket now.” You smiled at him tucking your head further into the coat almost like a turtle, “Besides…I don’t think Zeus is going to just let us go.”

“Zeus?” Hades squinted at you, “What does he have to do with this?”

“He claimed it was a gift for you…whatever that means.” You shivered a little, “But by all means, whisk us away if you can.”

“…” Hades stared at you for a moment longer letting his hand swipe over his mouth, “That explains why you’re stuck in the rain, my brother is…irritating, but it does not explain everything else.”

You froze looking at him before looking away, “I just…please know I just wanted to help you.”

“Help me?” He was becoming more confused.

“You told me he and Hera owed me a favor…” You wouldn’t look at him which made him nervous, “S-so I asked him to let you out of the Titanomachy celebration.”

“You-you what?” His eyes got wide, “Why would you do that?”

You stared at him as a few cars whipped by before you answered, “Because I care about you…and I care that this hurts you…I just-I thought maybe…”

You cared about him. He had to take a step back at the impossible words, “…you shouldn’t worry yourself. I’ve managed before I will again.”

“It’s not who I am, Hades…” You stepped toward him gaining his attention smiling at him sincerely, “I can’t just shut off caring about someone, especially you.”

He stared back down into your eyes before reaching out taking your hand. He thought of home, his office, the way he wished to hold you once he got there…but when he opened his eyes he was not in his familiar surroundings. Instead he was on a beach with you.

He growled, “Zeus! You cannot bar me from my own realm!”

“Aidoneus?” You both turned soaked to a woman holding towels. Her tan skin and dark hair matched the region they were in. She smiled brightly at you both, “Your brother called ahead and booked a room for you. This a very strange place to check in though, but we’re happy to accommodate newlyweds.”

Hades tensed looking over to your flushed face before he sighed taking the towels, “Well…we desired to see the ocean first…I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Not at all sir, just unusual.” She smiled more reaching into her pocket pulling out a key card, “Your luggage is already in your room, please take your time, and enjoy your stay.”

The woman left leaving you both alone on the beach. Hades sighed handing a towel to you, “I’m sorry…”

“No…it’s my fault. If I hadn’t tried to be helpful…” You took the towel holding it to your chest, “Hades, I didn’t mean for any of this…I just wanted you to get some rest and now…”

“And now…we are going to abuse this as much as possible.” Hades interrupted you putting a smile on his face, “If I’m barred from my own realm, I suppose I’ll get some rest, won’t I? Your request seems to have not gone on deaf ears.”

You perked up a little at the notion, “I guess so…First we should probably figure out where we are?”

Hades turned looking out at the ocean squinting for a moment, “If I had a guess, I’d say the Bay of Kotor.”

“…and that’s…where?” You smiled as you stepped up next to him.

He turned his head to you with a smile, “Montenegro.”

Your eyes got wide as your mouth dropped open, “Wow…twice in three months across the world. The only two people in my family that can say that are my brother and Pappoús.”

“Your grandfather traveled backed to Greece then?” He asked you.

“Yes. He came to America first…you know the story I’m sure…prepare, get a job, a house…then he went back for Gigi, and then my great uncle and his family…and then for my other great uncle… Soon the whole family was here trying for a better life.” You smiled staring out at the ocean for a while before you spoke again, “I always wondered what it would have been like if they hadn’t left Greece.”

Hades stared at you for a moment before extending his hand to you, “I could show you…if you wanted.”

“Show me?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged smirking a little, “Sort of…fate and I work together closely…because of that we can see things normally we wouldn’t. If you wanted, I could grasp some strings and show you what could have been.”

The offer was tempting. He could see you considering it, curiosity coursing through your beautiful eyes. Finally, you looked away shaking your head, “No…I wouldn’t change anything and knowing wouldn’t do me any good.”

“You wouldn’t change anything? Truly?” He cocked his head a little.

You looked back up to him eyes twinkling, “Of course not…If things were different, I probably wouldn’t be standing here with you…in this amazing place…”

I love you…

He spoke it aloud in his head as he reached over taking your hand in his. You squeezed his hand making his heart race as he smiled at you, “We should get you dried off.”

[smolbeandrabbles]

Pride: Favourite Scar - Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader (Animal Kingdom)

Okay, as my Virtues/Sin’s are all Mendos. This one is specific to Movie!Andrew.  That doesn’t mean however, that you can’t read it as Show!Andrew. (Just... edit the colour of his eyes and the place as appropriate...)

Author’s Note: Thank you for your request @mandy23b - This one is all yours 💜

I really like the take on Pride = Proud Actually I kinda mixed together the three premises you send me a little so I hope you enjoy 😘 Disclaimer: Animal Kingdom and all characters/ideas by the wonderful David Michod 💙 / Lyrics not mine Premise As Requested:  I have this idea in my head that Smurf doesn’t like you. It’s clear she has an unhealthy attachment to her children and here you are, turning all of his attention from her to you. And I get the feeling Andrew doesn’t care for her attention, like it annoys him to have her dote on him so he’s happy to give his attention to you. So she’s cruel and mean to you. And maybe you’re not the first she’s done this to but you’re the one who stands her ground and doesn’t let Smurf push you around. And he’s so proud? Proud to call you his and proud to call himself yours? Or just moments of pride like that. Like working a job and you’re not scared to get dirty and take control and boss the other boys around and he doesn’t show it but he adores you? I don’t know… he’s my softie and I just want him and I want him to have someone he can love and trust, even if he’s extremely stoic in his affections Words: 4492 Warnings: Swearing / If you squint there’s Pre-Amble. 

_________

What you wanna talk about? Wanna stay up all night? Wanna scream and shout, sign me up then Ain’t nothing to worry about, I can take it all, that’s right, I’m your number one, don’t forget that. Every word, every scar, Messed up thing that we are, I’ll take it all, boy, better turn up your radio. I never felt like this, you shot me through my heart, Pain never felt so good, boy, you’re my favourite scar I never felt like this, you shot me through my heart, All eyes on me in the middle of the street screaming out your name And it sounds like... you shot me through the heart, You are my favourite scar. What you wanna know about ? Want me to tell you all of my sins, yeah, you first. One shot and you got me and this scar everybody sees on me, Baby, it says that I’m with you.

--- Maybe it's you and your sick need to give love then take it away And you'll add my name to your long list of traitors who don't understand...   You are an expert at sorry, And keeping the lines blurry Never impressed by me acing your tests All the girls that you've run dry Have tired, lifeless eyes 'Cause you burned them out But I took your matches before fire could catch me, So don't look now, I'm shining like fireworks over your sad, empty town --- noun

A feeling or deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one's own achievements, the achievements of those with whom one is closely associated, or from qualities or possessions that are widely admired.

Driving a jeep up the coastline in the blazing hot summer sunshine, full of girls in sunshades blasting music, attracted about as much attention as you expected it to. Cruising around and looking for all the right trouble in all the wrong places.   At more than one point you had to tell the two in the back to quiet down, as their cat-calling to the array of men strolling down the promenade, minding their own damn business, got a little too raunchy.  You had one arm out of the window, tapping your painted nails against your car’s own paintwork. Sometimes you wondered if they only listened to you because you were the assigned leader of the group – but as long as they were still listening. Eventually they got bored of picking on men and decided you, being in the car, were the easier target. “Hey! Y/N! Aren't you dating a Cody!?” That instantly made you smirk. Here we go! The Cody’s – not necessarily a rival crew, but similar work. None of you were related, but you were all very good friends – the Cody’s on the other hand were family. You’d always thought breaking into that might be hard, but not necessarily. “Why do you spend do much time with their crew now!?” You gave a shrug, taking another turn off to take a costal road out of the city; time for a bit more scenery and peace and quiet, you felt; “Cuz he’s hotter than all of you! And yeah I am!” you laughed “What is it to any of you anyway?!” “Well you know that we’re your crew right-!? Anyway, they already have a female member.” “I’m not necessarily sure Smurf counts as a member… But she does tell ‘em what to do – what’s your point?” There was sudden silence, like you’d dare say it; “Well… We just… we’ve heard things…” You sighed; okay, you had to admit you were happy that they worried about you – but honestly who did they think you were? It wasn’t like you didn’t know the life – you were living it yourself. Still, you humoured their concern; “What things?” “Well. She certainly doesn’t like other woman around them.” You quirked an eyebrow; “And?” but you knew exactly what they were implying. “We just want you to be careful!” You scoffed, pushing your shades further up your nose; “You guys worry too much!” *** You dropped off the girls at each of their respective houses; most of them lived together... For your own reasons you lived in a little flat alone. Because sometimes you just preferred your own company. Caleigh, your right-hand girl, refused to exit your car. "What?" you huffed, clearly impatient "You're going to go see him again, aren't you!?" "Yeah, I am. Get on with it...!" you waved at the door handle “Y/N! I just think-!" "You should let me make a mistake? There's nothing wrong with Andrew, go on!" "For once I'm not worried about the man! I'm worried about his mother-!" "Well, I'm also thinking that might be why he likes me so much." You noticed she hopped down from the car but didn't quite close the door. "Why?" "I'm easy going... I don't smother him... Whatever he wants to do I'm down. And affection is his to give and want, when he's really." "Wait, are you dating the psycho one?" "Cal!!!" Now that was just uncalled for-! "The oldest-! F**K! She'll never let him go, Y/N she won't!" "Well that's her problem, and I'm dealing with it... Can you please let me drive, now?" "I don't understand, girls even do it better - what are you getting out of him!?" You quirked an eyebrow and gave her a smirk; "Hell, I know that... But the point is it’s not easy to tell what I get. And for once, I like that mystery..." She gave you a look that let you know she still thought you were insane. "Caleigh, please, I'll be fine! It'll be worse if I don't get there because he’ll worry, then he’ll get antsy and agitated, then they have to deal with it - which will be my fault. Which certainly will make her hate me!!" Your friend reluctantly slammed the door shut, but thankfully didn't cause you to roll your eyes by telling you to be careful, so you were able to wend your way quickly through the Melbourne streets... **

It was barely 4 seconds between your knock and the door opening. Andrew looked a little less than impressed, but he had a face for it so you weren't sure if that was necessarily a true reflection of his feelings. "Hey..." he took a step back, "I thought you might be late..." "Why? You heard about town shenanigans?" If you could count the sound out of his mouth as a laugh you would, "No. But I can imagine..." he walked you through the house "How you been?" "Good... And you?" "Been better." "Oh?" you frowned; you didn't like hearing things like that from him, "Why’s that?" "How's your electrics?" "... Not bad... Why?" "-Fixing-" he added quickly "Electrics." "Not bad, why?"  you repeated and he stopped his tour in the kitchen, indicating to the kettle. "It's busted." "And you can't fix it." "No." "Buy a new one then!" That sounded like an obvious answer, but he gave you a look that plainly said Smurf wouldn't accept that. You sighed and sat on the counter; "Alright maestro, show me what you're doing wrong." He gave you a look that told you to shut up, and you couldn’t help your teasing grin. "Drink?" "Water will do, thank you Darling." Andrew rolled his eyes at you, with a gentle shove at your sarcastic cute nickname. "Water? Little light for you..." although he obliged, pouring you a glass. "Well it's not like you can make me coffee." "Shut it!" "Make me." "You're gonna wish I did..." To be honest when he was looking at you like that you did wish he would. Those beautifully haunting blue eyes belonged to a man who needed to be kissed. And often. You watched closely as Andrew tried to explain to you what he’d done. And you tried not to start smirking until he’d finished, it didn’t matter much, your amusement was present in your voice; “Good at killing, stealing and all that illegal crime shit, but not much else, huh?” And he looked up at you, clearly not amused. You burst out laughing at the look on his face; “Coulda just told me that when I started.” “Naw, why do that when I can listen to you do everything wrong in detail!” That was the wrong thing to say as Smurf strolled into the kitchen. She fixed you with a look you were getting used to. But you didn’t lie to your friends, you could handle it. “How are you doing sweetie?” You noticed the voice she put on immediately, and that flicker of almost annoyance in his eyes. When you did it to be sarcastic he pushed you with a little smile, and told you to shut up. When she did it, in seriousness, he was much more like to shy away from it. Especially if he was with you. “Eh....” he gave a shrug “It don’t work Ma...” You kicked his thigh, which didn’t help things but you could help but act like this with him; “I told you, you’re doing it wrong!!” “Well, you do it then!!” He dropped everything, fixing you with a look that told you you’d probably get rewarded if you managed it. So you bit your lip through your smirk, and hopped off the counter; “Fine I will...” Smurf huffed from the corner of the kitchen in a way that let you know she wasn’t impressed with you, nor the way you’d just talked to her son. “...Sweetie, would you like me to make you anything.” “No... I’m okay...” his voice was quiet, and he turned back to her. She’s just gonna hover Andrew, you and I both know it... And so she did, for a little. See, Smurf you found more dangerous than any of them. Because Andrew showed his emotions, and his hand, before he snapped. You knew when it was coming and how it was gonna run its course. He wasn’t predicable, you would sooner die than think that - be he had a mind that worked a certain way; so once he started it was pretty easy to tell the direction. You and Baz had become quick experts in this, and both of you had different methods to curb it. Both of you extremely grateful you had each other to do so. Who the hell else would stand up to Andrew?

But Smurf, Smurf was sweet as sugar and controlled everything... if she had a breaking point she never showed it, and didn’t seem any different over that line to normal. Unless she was always snapped. Which, also wouldn’t surprise you as the matriarch to 4 nigh-on-uncontrollable criminals. Oh, and that was before you even mentioned you were from a rival all girl gang. She thought you were gonna put her darling boys out of business. That or run around with all of them, breaking their hearts one by one. Which made you scoff at the notion; if she thought that then she didn’t understand your relationship with Andrew at all. Eventually she left the room, but you knew she’d be listening in as he watched you fix it. He ran his fingers close to yours as his body enveloped you; that was intimate enough. You turned - but he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking in the direction she’d gone. You stood; just shy of your back against his chest but his arm brushed yours and that was once again contact enough; you saw that twice across his face, and you’d damn well count that positively. “You know she hates me right...” He shook his head, maybe in denial. “She’s like that with everyone...” “Yeah, but she hates me.” “Yet you’re still here.” You tapped him with a screwdriver to turn those blue eyes of his back on you, where you wanted them. Where you could watch them grow brighter as some semblance of adoration crossed his face. “I’m here for you. Not her.” His gentle touch to your face was unexpected, and made you flinch. Andrew stilled, and you blinked; “I’m sorry...” “No it’s...” He tucked your hair behind your ear “You’re always holding your own. I’m proud of you. You better be proud of yourself.” “Proud of me? For being someone your mum hates?” “Eh... comes with the territory...” Andrew gave a shrug, his lips brushed the top of your ear gently - whether a kiss on purpose or not it had you smiling. “...Rather that than sit and take it…” “F**k that.” “Thought you might say that.” You nudged him again with your shoulder; “Let me fix your mistake Andrew Cody, before your mum starts trying to fix one she thinks you made.” “She’s afraid of you, you know.” His statement was so matter-of-fact that you weren’t even sure he was hearing himself right. “What?!” He pulled away from you, leaning on the counter the way you had been; “You’re stealing me away.” “Stealing you, huh?” “Oh, I guess not...” Andrew pressed his lips into a thin line “Afterall, you’d think stealing could mean something or someone wouldn’t come willingly...” Your eyebrow raised significantly ,and you knew now was the perfect time to tease him; “This better not be the big elope speech.” He rolled his eyes “F**k off, Y/N, and fix the thing!” You drew yourself to height “Problem there, Mr.Cody...” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah...” You breathed gently, in touching distance of his lips once more “What’s that?” He folded his arms; defiant to give you the kiss you currently craved “I don’t wanna f**k off... but I might wanna f**k you...”

***

"Oh, what the f**k is she doing here." Andrew's eyes narrowed but it was Baz that cracked Craig over the head; "OW!" "Shut the f**k up!!” "No, but seriously...!" Baz placed his hands on his hips, and took a step that made Craig concede one at the thought of being hit again; "She brought us the job you idiot! You didn't complain last time." Craig grumbled a little bit to himself again as you walked up the steps into the little warehouse you'd decided to gather in; "You all ready for this one?" "This better be good!" For some ridiculous reason, as the closest in age to you, Craig had decided you might take his spot in the team. And for some other reason only acted like this on jobs. Otherwise he was pretty nice to you. You'd figure it out, one way or another. “It isn’t bad. I’ll put it that way.” You narrowed your eyes slightly in defiance "What, this job to hard for a bunch of girls?!" He was probably getting this attitude from his mother. You still remembered the way she'd looked you up and down, and told you that you'd be better staying at home and waiting for them to get back from a job. And that jobs were no places for women. You were just as quick to point out that she was often the brains behind what they did and simply made them do the dirty work for her. Leaving the younger two gobsmacked with mouths hanging open, Baz trying desperately hard not to laugh, and Andrew looking at you like all his dreams had just come true. There had been others, you guessed, all of them unable to put up with her... And certainly unable to stand up to her. But he had you now, and you didn't dare back down. Andrew was your boyfriend; she wasn't about to take him away from you and there was no way in hell you were about to let her degrade your work just because it was a “mans” job. "A little. Maybe I just like you guys." "That or you want us to get arrested." Your eyes flicked to Andrew; "And have my life be mundane again, Craig? I don't think so..." Andrew gave you a gentle nod. And you knew at least 3 of them were confident in your abilities to tell them what to do, and handle this. Even if you were happy with the two eldest sweeping in to help control things. And so the job went as well as planned, and maybe a little better than expected. You gave everyone an even split meaning collectively they earned more than your group, but that was the point, they’d done the hard graft. And doing jobs with you meant Smurf wasn’t taking cuts from them – all around you thought this was a win-win. Probably another reason she hates me! As you drove them back to the warehouse to each get in your own cars back home, it was Craig and not Andrew who held back. One fleeting kiss and Andrew was walking back to the car with Baz (didn’t mean he didn’t fix Craig with a threatening look… of course). You folded your arms, staring at him expectedly “…Yes?” He nudged your arm; “Guess that went pretty well.” “Yeah. Thanks for the help.” Then you added sarcastically; “Guess I could never have done that without some big strong men around!” At least his laugh sounded appropriately embarrassed; “You’re… you’re alright, you know that?” You gave a smile, if that was as good as compliments got; “…Thanks Craig! You’re not so bad yourself!” You waved them all off as they called their goodbyes back to you and you couldn’t help laughing. You loved all of them; and whether Smurf wanted you there or not, you were happy to be an extended part of this family. *** Andrew always wanted affection on his terms. You were quite willing to sit in the same room as him for nearly 24 straight hours in silence, just for those glorious 10 seconds he would cross the room and sit close enough to touch you. That���s how he asked, he never said it. He never just took you in his arms. And you were pretty sure he’d never ever heard the term public display of affection... but you knew when he sat like that, with that look on his face and in his eyes, he was begging for something from you. And Smurf could never fulfil that even when she thought she could. What’s worse, is you’d seen her give love to Andrew in a way that stifled him, that made him push back - that near enough made him angry.  But she took it away too. Because sometimes, Andrew needed her to be his mother. Not his keeper. And that’s when she was at her cruellest. Andrew was a lost cause. Andrew wasn’t someone she could control. He’d been in prison, he’d done drugs, armed robbery, D&Ds and DUIs... theft, murder... you name it. Deran was the baby and a sweetheart and you liked him a lot, but he was securely under her thumb and hardly in trouble. And too timid to stand up to her or his siblings. Born into the wrong family, in your opinion. He didn’t have the nature for this... Craig, in the middle, wasn’t stable enough to break free. And as far as you could tell didn’t want to. You’d always thought his relationship with Smurf to be a little twisted and tried not to uncomfortably stare when kisses seemed to be more than just familial... When Baz would kick you under the table and give you a look. Baz was Andrew’s best friend, and his stability. And you’d often breathe and tell him you thought he was the only sane one. And he would laugh gently, and give you his best smile ‘Aw, Andrew doesn’t do too bad now he has you...’

But Andrew... On his medication was a mess you didn’t like to deal with. They dulled his personality. If you thought he didn’t feel normally, then this was worse. And you knew what they were for. But you didn’t think they were any good for him. But what could he do? Sometimes he would give you the bottle and ask you to hide them, and that scared you. But you supposed that wouldn’t have Smurf forcing him to take them. But off his medication.... oh, he was anxious, and paranoid, and angry, and reckless... any idea was a good idea and he’d damn well do anything he wanted. But in the aftermath of that... when Andrew calmed down. That was when he needed someone. And he didn’t have to look for any real affection, just to know someone was there.

And you’d seen him at that point. At the point Smurf should love him the most; regardless of whether he deserved it or not. Because she was his MOTHER.

Andrew Cody should never have to beg to be loved…

But that’s what she made him do. And you’d had enough of that. So that led to you slamming your hands on the table, and standing so fast the chair hit the floor, as you fixed her with a stare so hard it was beyond if looks could kill. “Stop it.” She tried that sweet act, but you could see her face fall already “Stop what, sweetie?” “Stop f**king what?! Stop Making him BEG for this!” Your hands hit the table again “Andrew deserves better than this family - and he deserves a better f**king mother than you!” You weren’t sure you meant that about his brothers – but hell, at that moment you didn’t really care anymore. Suddenly Andrew was no longer looking at her for anything, and was trying to manoeuvre you from the kitchen. To very little avail, other than you weren’t sure what would happen if you stayed and had a full-on screaming match with her. “You don’t deserve him!” Was as good a spit as she got at you, that had you turning in his arms as he tried to drag you out the door. And by God did he have to keep a strong grip; “No! You don’t f**king deserve him!!! You don’t F**KING DESERVE any of them!!!” There was a silence. And you knew you’d full on blown it now.

Andrew froze, because whatever either of you said next, one of you had to be the bigger woman and walk away. You took a deep breath and your voice was shaking, with anger you were desperately trying to control again. “...They are your children... they are grown men... and you should love all of them unconditionally... You shouldn’t get to choose when you give them love! And they shouldn’t have to prove they are worth it...” you stepped out of Andrew’s arms “... what you do to him... is possibly one of the cruellest things I’ve ever seen.” And hell, in your line of work, by now you’d probably seen nearly all of it. “And if that’s why he needs me... then I will fight for that. And I will give him what he needs. And maybe I’m not good enough for him. Hell, maybe I never will be... but I am what he needs, right now… and I’m gonna damn well make sure he knows he deserves to be loved like anyone else does.” You walked, because you were in tears. And they were hot, angry, bitter tears that she had pushed you to. And you almost hated yourself that you’d fallen for that push. “ANDREW DONT YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME-!!” Was about the last thing you heard before you whipped around and were swept from the floor. “What the f**k are you-!?” You just about managed as you were carried, shocked, to his car. “Don’t speak. Just listen.” To what? He dumped you in the passenger seat and the next thing you knew you were driving to the middle of nowhere.  And you realised that was the point. To nothing. To his actions. Hell, you should know yourself by now, they were always louder than his words. There was a smile on his face. Something you weren’t even sure he was aware he was doing. You’re doing it again Andrew... You wondered again what it was; but you thought you already knew... *** It had been a few months since that argument, and as far as you were aware the cat fight was still on. And now you only stuck around the house if she wasn’t there. Sometimes she’d come back before you left, and there would be a five second stand-off where the boys sat in silence and the tension could be cut with a knife. Luckily, none of them were taking sides… But there was a new kind of amity between the group of you. You guessed it might have been a certain kind of respect… Which let you to doing a bunch more jobs with them – and more than enough times your gang of girls got in on this too. What was more, you got to watch from afar with Andrew as they all started warming to each other. And you got to give each other that same look; try to see Smurf break this up. But, then and there, jobs didn’t always go perfectly…! Even when Andrew had your back.

"Could have gone a little better for you, huh?" "Any time you can get me back, you will..." You winced, looking at the state of your arm. Arguably not your best idea ever, even if necessary. Andrew chided you for it again. Now in your apartment, you knew that Smurf would go ballistic at him for not returning home with the rest. "Yeah. Because I care about ya." "Come off the noble act, Andrew, you just wanna tell me I told you so." "I do..." He admitted with a smile "but I want to fix up this arm first..." He pulled you to him gently, arm straight across both your leg and his. “…You really shouldn’t be so stupid sometimes.” He knew that would raise a laugh; “It’s not stupid if it works…!” “Works?” You caught that smirk and raised eyebrow as he gathered the medical equipment closer to him; “If that’s what you call it…” You raised an eyebrow and couldn’t help that tease; "What’s mummy dearest gonna say? Shouldn’t you be running back home?" He shook his head "F**k her." Your eyes widened: "Wh- OWWWW---!" you cried out as he poured saline over the gash. You were 99% sure he also wasn’t supposed to be that liberal... His eyes met yours; see. "What did you just---!! If she heard you-" Those blue hardened significantly; "I said f**k her." Andrew breathed, "I have you now... You've seen what she does... You can't possibly imagine.... How much freedom having you in my life gives me... You stand up for me, you stand up for the boys, you stand up for yourself. I've never seen that." He looked back to your arm, drying and cleaning it, he bandaged you up; " You don't realise how proud I am of ya... And I’m aware I don't really say it, but I feel it." He sat up taking your free hand in his; "Y/N you are one hell of a f**king woman."

You gave a gentle smile; "I'm proud of you for admitting that." "Oh, really?" "Mmm..." You closed that gap with a delicate thank you kiss. It was a first step. Andrew’s affection was stoic but he was learning, he would figure it out. He'd tell you, in his own way, exactly how much he loved you. And you knew discovering the how was the best part of this relationship. He pulled you to him, it was a subtle, sensitive ask. If you want, I want. And you slid forward and across onto his lap, running your hands through his hair.  "Injured?" you asked with a cheeky wink. "Oh, well, I bandaged you, you’ll be fine." "Magic, huh?" "Not quite..." he tipped his head "But you know what they say..." "And what do they say..." He gave a shrug, voice soft, pulling you to him again; "I haven't quite figured it out yet..."

Andrew ran his arms under your legs and hoisted you from the couch. He stood still for a minute to make sure that he had you supported correctly, but you were quick to move on your decision. Your fingers were already at the buttons of his blue shirt as you kissed him. He placed his forehead gently to yours as he carried you to your room, his lips grazing yours. You knew even when it was silent, when Andrew Cody looked at you like that it was the closest he would get to saying 'I love you'.

--- THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!! 🎉🎉😘😘 🌟 6 Sins Down!!! 🌟

One to go and we’re all done!!!

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad.

[oghoneytryst]

surprise;

continuation from the sunflower. series / part 2

where harry visits a fan at her little home to surprise her with a much needed gift.

a/n: hey so I had this up for an hour before deleting it because I'm testing something out concerning tumblr’s shit system so let me know what u think, hope u enjoy. happy reading! :~)

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

- November 4 -

Insisting that the scorching weather in Los Angeles is unbearable for a woman in her situation, she begs her roommate to do the grocery shopping this week.

“Please don’t take long,” she tells him from the front door, Aaron, as he descends the outside staircase. His body plops with every step down, his back to her as she continues. “I’m really hungry. Wait, get some pistachio ice cream!”

“Pistachio?” Aaron stops mid-step and turns around with a disgusted look. “Since when have you liked pistachio? Have you ever even eaten it before?”

She mumbles something incoherent to him, then scoffs at his interrogation. “Don’t judge! Do you really want to upset my unborn child over their strange eating habits?”

Her roommate rolls his eyes. It annoys him every time she plays the pregnancy card, but he has failed to realize that she only does so because she knows it ticks him off. Either way, he can’t find the courage to argue with a pregnant woman.

He turns back around. “Of course not.” His body continues to flop in an unattractive manner all the way to the ground. He tips his head from side to side as his roommate continues to list some more requests.

“...And don’t forget the avocados!”

“Avocados are expensive. Do you have avocado money?”

“Thank you!” She ignores his question as he rounds the corner to the garage. “I appreciate it. A lot! Drive safe! Don’t forget the Twizzlers!”

The woman steps into the confinements of her home before Aaron can shout back another remark. She pulls the creaky gate in with her and locks it into place. To complement its security, she pushes the front door shut as well. The double protection had been a hassle when she had first moved in, but now she’s grown to depend on the extra safety measures.

A warm breath exhales from her chapped lips. The open window behind the couch lets in a gentle breeze from time to time, but it still isn’t enough to cool her down. The ventilation system in their unit is disappointing, but the roommates deal with it instead of investing a couple hundred dollars for a new one.

The woman leisurely moves to the kitchen, bare feet sticking to the floorboards. Her skin sweats and burns in this simmering Sunday heat; with the end of her tank top in a clump just below her chest, her hand protects the bare expanse of her belly. In spite of having just sent her roommate off to the store, she inspects every crook and cranny of the kitchen for something to satisfy her cravings.

Minutes and minutes pass. She stands on her tip-toes, stretches her neck up to the highest shelf of a cabinet, when the doorbell resonates against the walls. She closes the cabinet and presses her heels back on the floor, her face in a twist at the unfamiliar sound. Infrequently does anyone ever use the doorbell, neither her nor her roommate having invited guests in the past few months of sharing the space.

“Yes, of course, not like you have a key!” she exclaims, moving to unlock the door. She assumes that it is Aaron, as the neglecting man that he is sometimes. “Did you somehow forget that with your wallet again?”

The woman pulls open the door with a knowing look on her face. She wants to be playful in the reprimand toward her grumpy roommate, give him a tut-tut for being so unorderly, though they both know that she isn’t any better. In place of this, her eyes settle on an all-too-familiar face.

The man in front of her juts his bottom lip out, eyes squinting from the sun, designer sunglasses hanging from the collar of his refine white shirt. “Uh...” He begins to pat himself down, hands at a feel for every inch of his body before pulling out a folded leather wallet from the pocket of his trousers. He presents it to her with an “Ah!” and a flashy smile, two fingers pinching the expensive material. “No. I’ve got it right here.”

A gaping look replaces the woman’s previous smirk. Her body freezes in this burning heat, even with her skin sizzling to a sweaty warmth. Her jaw slightly drops, but the bulge of her eyes and the absence of her words properly depicts her internal reaction. She swears she had even heard herself gasp the second her mind came to terms with his presence.

“Hi there,” Harry says. He slips his wallet back into his pockets and titters, entertained by her physical response. “Erm ... are you ... are you alright?”

She doesn’t snap out of her embarrassing daze until his rich accent pronounces her name. Her eyes blink, her head shakes, and her mouth quickly shuts before it can ramble on as it usually does. She looks at him the same way she had at the diner two Fridays ago – cautiously, as though she cannot trust her own vision.

“Harry?” she croaks out, afraid that the realization will somehow cause him to fade away, as if he doesn’t exist.

“Yeah.” He bows his head proudly. “That’s me.”

“That’s ... what ... what in the...”

She tries to speak, but with her tongue as her foe, a momentary silence ensues. A breeze sweeps by and only then does she notice a chill on her bare belly. While the rest of her appearance is ungodly, she is primarily self-conscious over the swell of her stomach.

“Sorry if it’s the bad time to stop by.” Harry breaks the silence, trying his best to ignore the way she discreetly rolls her tank top back down. The material stretches over her growing shape, but there’s not much of a difference since he’s last seen her. “I’m actually really glad that I’ve managed to catch you. I rang the doorbell a couple of times in the last week and no one’s answered.”

“You ... what? The what?”

She puts a limit on her lexicon by repeating herself so much, but it is really the only word that seems to make sense in this moment: what? What is Harry Styles doing at her front door, dropping by as if the two had been life-long friends? What does he mean he’s rang the doorbell a couple of times in the past week?

The conversation is rather strange with the gate locked between them, but she can’t begin to think that it had been normal in the first place. She can’t even believe that he remembers her name, let alone where she lives, though perhaps he’d gotten it off of his driver’s GPS that one night. His letter and autograph had been enough to satisfy her daydreams, but this continuation has her head spinning right off.

Harry smiles bashfully to the floor. “I should explain myself then?”

“I mean...” she lets out an incredulous laugh. “If that’s – if you want to, sure, that’d be ... wow.”

“Wow?”

“Wow. Wow, I can’t believe this is happening and I don’t even know why it’s happening. And you’ve – wow. You’ve been here a couple of times in the past week? And no ... no one’s answered?”

“That’s correct,” Harry confirms, clasps his hands behind him. “Startin’ to think you’ve moved somewhere else.”

She snorts quietly at the idea. “In the span of a week?”

“Eh, a week and a couple days.”

“Ah, now that definitely makes more sense.”

“Alright, alright.” Harry chuckles and holds his hands up in a lazy surrender. “It wasn’t the smartest thought I’ve ever had, I know. Was just a strange coincidence, is all.”

“It is really strange. I’m usually here when I’m not at work.”

The color of Harry’s cheeks suddenly spread to a light pinkish shade. His avoids eye contact as his lips purse, the revelation confirming that he is a harmless idiot. He hopes that it goes unnoticed by her, but her hands wrap curiously around the thin bars of the upper gate.

“Did you forget that I have work?”

“...Depends what time you have work.”

“Your usual nine to five, although sometimes it can be up to six, maybe even later.”

“Hmm.” Harry takes in this information with a neutral mien. When he looks up at her eyes sparkling in delight, he tries so hard to conceal his growing smile. “Then yes, it did slip from my mind that you might have work to attend.”

Her laughter is a high-pitch, unattractive outburst that echoes in her ears. She clamps her mouth shut when she hears the strange howl and muffles it with her hand. “Sorry, that’s not funny,” she says, her eyes now apologetic. “I mean, it is funny, but probably not that funny ... you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “Sure. If you want to laugh at me, it’s fine. I can take it.”

He declares the last sentence rather dramatically, clutching onto his heart and leaning his head back to the skies. Pretend sobs distort his face until the hysterics turn into genuine laughter. She mirrors his elation, the rays of the sun blinding every feature of his except for those lovely two front teeth.

She releases the bars of the gate, her hands tainted by tiny specks of dirt. “No, no, I’m sorry. I really appreciate that you went out of your way to be here.” She begins to unlock the gate when she notices that its barrier may indicate a distrust in him, or perhaps be even just a bit rude. In all honesty, she’d forgotten that it had even been there to begin with. Their conversation is such a dream to her that it is a distraction from everything else.

“Except, um ... I really don’t know why you’re here. It’s great that you are! I just don’t – oh, wait, I forgot something in the car, didn’t I? Was it my planner? I don’t use it as often as I should, that’s probably not smart of me, but it’s so forgettable sometimes—”

Her ramble cuts off when she pushes open the gate, Harry side-stepping to his right. On the floor of the balcony rests a large thing behind him that takes up most of the minimal space available. A clear plastic wrap protects the strange shapely thing, but through the transparency, she can see that it is a pale-blue color.

“Uh, no...” Harry stands tall and grins proudly at the little crease in her brow. “You didn’t forget anything.”

“Oh ... then it must be still in my bag.”

“Yeah, probably, but I did come to bring you something.”

The woman raises her attention up from the thing to look at Harry. Her face illustrates surprise as much as it does awe. “Bring me something? Bring ... for me? Wh—” She points downward, which elicits a suppressed giggle from him. “That? This? It’s for me?”

“Yes, it’s for you.”

Her bare feet stay frozen on the ground, but she leans her body forward to further inspect his gift. “What is it? I mean, thank you so much, that’s really nice of you, but ... what is it?”

Harry gives in; a chuckle vibrates through his chest. He suddenly notices how often it happens when he’s with her. She has some sort of energy that radiates positivity and optimism. It is a natural charm of hers, one that she doesn’t quite know she has.

“It’s a pregnancy pillow.”

The woman opens her mouth in shock, the strange shape suddenly beginning to make sense. “A what?” she whispers, holding a hand to her chest as the other dangles in the open air. The individual aspects of her face all seem to collectively light up: eyes bright, mouth open, cheeks lifting.

“Erm, it’s a pillow for pregnant woman to sleep—”

“Oh my god.” She laughs. “I know what it is! Why’d you ... what’s it doing here?”

Harry watches as she marvels over the plush and lengthy pillow from a short distance. He becomes a little shy as he explains himself, but it is nothing that he cannot conceal.

“You mentioned that you hate not being able to sleep on your back. I figured you needed as much comfort as you could possibly get at a time like this.”

A tiny “Oh,” slips from her mouth in the most delicate way possible, floating through the waves of the air. Her heart has some sort of queasy sensation, one that flutters and expands.

She doesn’t say any more. Her throat closes as the water in her eyes bundles up. She scoffs at herself in shame when the first tear falls. There had been a number of things in her first trimester that had caused her to weep, both significant and pointless. A couple of weeks into her second, she now has her emotions under control. However, this surprise of his is so simple yet so remarkably wonderful that it transforms her into an absolute mess in front of the person she looks up to the most.

A worrisome frown begins to mold over Harry’s eager grin. He looks back-and-forth from his gift to her teary demeanor. His hand invades the space between them, protecting her from the harmless pillow on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t ... s’ it okay? Is it the wrong shape or something? I got the C one cos’ I wasn’t sure if the U-shape was too large, but maybe you can have more of a variety with that one? If you’d like, I can return it and—”

“No,” she cries and interrupts his mini spiel. “No, it’s great!”

“Great?” he echoes, still unconvinced. “Are you sure? I can exchange it for another one if it’s not, maybe a different color?”

“Yes! I mean – no. Yes, it’s perfect, and no, the color is fine.”

“...Why’re you crying then?”

Her back straightens as she looks into his green eyes of concern. Her vision is a tad hazy, all thanks to this predicament of hers, but she has otherwise never seen a moment more clearly.

“Because this is the nicest thing anyone could ever do for me,” she answers, which causes Harry to finally relax. His arms fall to his side, his hands disappearing into his pockets as she tells him, “I love it. Thank you, Harry.”

“S’ my pleasure,” he sheepishly mumbles.

He is quiet, but loud enough to hear amid the normally hectic neighborhood. Where there is often a jumble of background noise – birds chirping, cars honking, music blasting – the two of them stand in silence. She becomes aware of how this is another one of their moments, if she can even acknowledge it as such a thing. There have only been two encounters, but in both there is a pause neither too natural nor too awkward.

“Um...” She sniffles. Her mind begins to tick, precious time of hers going to waste. “Do you want ... would you like to come inside maybe? If you’re not busy with anything else?”

Her sentence trails off in a manner of uncertainty. She suggests it spontaneously, but her better judgement seems to harshly awaken her from the fantasy she resides in. She has just invited Harry Styles into her home, a ridiculous request that receives a reluctant response.

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but a strange noise croaks from his throat instead. She fears what he must be thinking about. Is it a genuine excuse or a respectful decline to her offer? It makes her nervous either way.

“You don’t have to,” she quickly adds. “If you’re busy, that’s completely fine. I definitely understand. This was very nice of you, thank you so—”

“I’m not – sorry.” Harry clears his throat. “I’m not busy. I’d love to come inside, but I’m a little concerned for your roommate’s privacy. Wouldn’t want to intrude their space.”

The pregnant woman eases with a calm smile. With the exception of forgetting her work schedule, she realizes how attentive Harry is. He remembers her name, remembers where she lives – again, with the exception that perhaps he had obtained this information from his driver – and he remembers how she had mentioned once that she hated not being able to sleep on her back. Despite never once having met her roommate, he remembers that detail too.

“Their space is my space and you’re not intruding at all. Besides, my roommate just went out grocery shopping. Won’t be back for some time, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?”

“Yeah, I’m really hungry.” She puckers her lips to the side. “There’s nothing in the kitchen, so I’m sorry to say that I can’t really offer you anything to eat.”

“That’s quite alright.” Harry laughs and shakes his head. “And in that case, I’d love to be invited into your home. Just give me a second, yeah?”

Prior to her response, Harry speeds down the stairs. Her eyes follow his path and notice the ominous the black vehicle parked at the curb. The engine still runs, and as Harry nears the passenger door, the sleek window rolls down.

She doesn’t want to be caught staring, so she focuses back on the pillow. Though she hadn’t known what it had been only minutes ago, she now thinks it is the loveliest sight she’s ever seen.

Smiling to herself, she takes a step forward and crouches down every so carefully. She gathers the plastic-wrapped C-shape cushion in her arms, positioning it at a tricky angle that is on her side and above her belly. It crinkles annoyingly, its particular sturdy length threatening to flop in every other direction.

When Harry finishes his discussion, he turns and finds her struggling to move past the doorframe. The pillow blocks her view, so she can’t step in as easily as she assumes. He calls her name, his fists clenched and arms bent in a speedy jog up the stairs.

“That’s alright, love. I’ve got it.”

She feels the weight alleviate from her grip. It makes sense that Harry lifts it as if it weighs nothing – he had been the one to haul it up the stairs. Down on the ground, the black vehicle is in the midst of a 3-point-turn before speeding out of the open neighborhood.

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

She ignores the term of endearment, for now at least. He had said it to her twice before on the first night, to which she had overthought about it before succumbing to sleep. She knows tonight will be no different.

“No worries. Is it alright if I...”

Pillow in arms, Harry nods his head in the direction of the open home. He awaits her permission despite already having it.

“Yes.” She nods ferociously. “Yeah, yeah, go right in.”

The woman’s arm flails forward as a guide for his journey across the threshold. She knows that he is humble in his own way, but the second he enters her residence, she begins to feel timorous. This small space of hers is so ... small. He has spent the last eight years of his life as reigning royalty in places far and beyond. Size does not even begin to cover this drastic difference.

She pulls the gate in, locks it. “Sorry if it’s a little messy.” She swings the door closed, locks it.

Her heart beats in silence when Harry places the pillow down on the cold floor, dead-center in the unit as he turns to face her. He faintly huffs, scanning over the four walls and all of its property. The square table near the corner to his left opposite to the worn-out couch against the window on his right. Behind him is an open bedroom door in the narrow hallway straight ahead, a closed bedroom door next to it hidden by a sharp turn.

It is simple, as far as simple can be.

“Nothing perfect,” the woman admits, “but it’s home.”

Harry shakes his head. “I like it. It’s nice. Cozy.”

“Thanks...”

Beat; another empty beat. The sunlight beams through the window, exposing a narrow cloud of dust particles that swim through the air. It strikes down in the space between them, physically representing the invisible energy that already divides them.

“Erm, where would you like it?” he innocently asks, though one can interpret such an inquiry in many different ways.

She is about to ask what he means, but saves herself the embarrassment as her vision points to the pillow on the floor. “Um, I guess ... I guess my room is fine, since that’s where I sleep.”

“Right. That makes the most sense, doesn’t it?”

He asks rhetorically – she won’t make that mistake again – so she responds with nothing but a kind smile. Her solemn attitude is obvious, but there is a major distinction between talking to Harry Styles in a diner and talking to Harry Styles in her home after he’s bought a pregnancy pillow for her.

“Which one is it?” asks Harry, bending over to grip onto the loud plastic material.

In a split second, she contemplates the idea of having Harry in her bedroom. It is something beyond her wildest dreams in circumstance she hasn’t quite imagined, but a panic arises before he can even manage to pick the pillow up.

“Uh, wait! It’s ... you don’t have to. I can take it myself.”

Bent halfway, Harry waves his hand as a dismissal. “S’ no problem.”

“Yeah, but ... okay.”

Her voice is the tiniest Harry has ever heard from her. In a slow rise from his weird position, he tilts his head as an expression of his suspicion. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

“No! No, it’s fine, I don’t mind. Just ... wait here, okay?”

A crease appears in the center of his forehead, but he nods nonetheless.

She scurries past him and down the hallway, into the bedroom with the open door. The woman does not release a breath until it closes behind her, safe from the reality of this strange event. It still doesn’t quite manage to cross past her skull, not even with Harry waiting for her in her living room.

Wow. Harry Styles is waiting for me in my living room.

Her faint laugh disappears in the November air that seeps in through her open window. With her mattress right next to it, she remembers that she hadn’t taken the time to make her bed this morning. On top of that, her undergarments litter across the floor, and empty snack packets pile over her dresser and bedside table.

Her biggest concern is the folded page from her planner. It also rests on her bedside table, inanimate over a ratty novel that devours her attention almost every night.

For the next couple of minutes, she cleans up whatever mess Harry may come across. Her bras and panties stuff in the confinements of her laundry basket, the remnants of her midnight snacks thrown in the trash can, and her most treasured letter safe under the used candle in her bedside drawer. She finishes by flinging her comforter up and over the sheets of her bed, then tugs at every corner until it looks somewhat presentable.

When she deems the room as less of a disaster, she fixes her appearance – as best as a tank top and leggings can be fixed – and lets out a nervous breath before opening the door.

“Alright, sorry about that. You can come in now.”

Down the hall, she can see that the pillow is still just a lump on the floor. No Harry waits beside it.

Her heart rate increases with alarm, even more so than the idea of having Harry enter her messy bedroom. She hates that she allows such troubling thoughts to torture her, but this whole circumstance is a desire much too wonderful to be real. It will not be a surprise to her if he had ended up changing his mind.

Her bare feet patter across the floorboards, her movements slightly frantic. As the hallway ends, Harry’s figure appears in the corner of her living room, his back to her. His upper body leans forward, eyes lingering on the acoustic guitar hidden next to the couch, if not for the neck that sticks up like a tower.

“Harry?”

He snaps around at the sound of her voice. She notices then how his pockets restrain his hands from reaching out to caress the curve of fine wood.

“Sorry, erm ... I got kind of distracted here. Sick guitar you’ve got.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles, her expression softens at the instrument that she has not touched in months.

“You play?”

“No.”

“Your roommate?”

Harry unveils his hands and stretches them out to the empty space in front of the guitar. He raises his eyebrows in an unspoken question, to which she nods and watches as he picks up and marvels at the memory.

“Not exactly,” she answers.

He does that head tilt again and cradles the dusty instrument with care. His fingers drag down the strings in a lazy fashion, ears attentive as he begins to tune it.

“See, when the two weeks that my ex gave me to move out were up, he was leaving to play a crowd at some bar downtown.”

A visible frustration compels Harry’s hands to freeze. His face maintains that well-known solemn that people gawk over. She would be the same, if not for the severe intimidation that she now feels as she continues her story.

“He didn’t say it, but I could tell that he was expecting me to be gone by the time he got back. I still had so much to pack up, and Aaron wasn’t expecting me to move in so soon, and not only that, but I also had all these emotions that were just incredibly out of control. I don’t even think they were pregnancy hormones, just plain stress and I didn’t know what to do about it. So, I may or may not have taken his guitar with me.”

Harry’s face illuminates with surprise. “You stole his guitar?” The instrument suddenly feels heavy in his hands.

“Kind of ... he has another one though! He never really plays this one anymore. Well, obviously he can’t play it anymore, but ... I don’t know, something just came over me! I know you always say to treat people with kindness, but I was really angry and really upset and too scared to vandalize anything, so I just kind of ... took it. If you ask me, it’s more of a burden on myself because it really does take up way too much space—”

Harry stops the continuous flow of her words by stating her name. It is firm and to-the-point, enough to make her tongue slither back behind her teeth. The seconds are ticking away, fingers nervously fumbling together in a knot. Harry sets the cursed instrument back onto it forgetful home next to the couch and considers her story carefully.

“I tell people to treat others with kindness,” he begins, stepping closer to her, “because it’s how I think people deserve to be treated. When it comes to him, I think you’ve done just that.”

It is fair to say that Harry makes her smitten as her demeanor turns bashful. He has some way of making her feel sane, making her feel as if there is a beauty that transcends all of the mucky, grimy dirt in the world.

“Really?” she squeaks, the corners of her mouth pulling upward.

“Of course. I think it even further illustrates your resilience.”

He seriously needs to stop before I start crying again.

“I um ... I should’ve sold it by now.” She shrugs at the lifeless object that haunts her with a distant memory. “It makes the most sense, but I just don’t know why I ... can’t. Aaron sometimes messes with it though, so I guess it’s good for something.”

“Erin? Your roommate?” Harry asks, which pries out a nod from her. “Hmm. Well, I do understand what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You loved the bloody dickhead, right?”

The woman laughs at his assertive language, but it cuts off with an almost weak cry. Yes; she loved him.

“A part of you still holds onto that. It’s completely normal.”

“Or pathetic.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “If it were pathetic to hold onto people you’ve loved in the past,” he moves around her, bends down, and lifts up the pillow with ease, “then anyone who’s ever written a song about someone else is a complete pity party. Now tell me, do you think that’s true?”

He leaves the question open for her response, but he doesn’t wait for her to muster it out. Instead, Harry follows the exact path she had previously went down, into the hallway and through to her bedroom. His quickness takes a second for her mind to register, but she soon trails after him.

“Um, I guess not.”

Harry sets his gift down on her full-size mattress. He steps back, hands on his hips, proud over his act of kindness. He side-eyes her, discreetly smirking at her discomfort and uncertainty.

“Fine. I’ll take that answer.”

He doesn’t examine her room as he had done with the rest of the unit. He instead gets down to it and tears away the plastic wrap. He frees the plush material of the pillow and balls up the broken seal.

“You want to try it out?” Harry offers, setting the plastic crumble onto the floor to discard later.

Her hesitance and fear does not disperse. “Try it out?”

“Yeah, sure. Test it out. See if it’s comfortable enough. If not, I can change it for another one.”

“Oh, that’s ... not necessary. It’s a pillow, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“We all have our own preferences. You won’t know it’s fine until you test it out for yourself.”

Deep down, he knows he’s gotten it right. She assumes that he has a need for perfection. If not, it is his constant worry that has probably double-checked the damn thing a dozen times before delivering it to her in person. It’s enough that he appears at her home when she is in her most slump attire, but now he wants her to lie down in front of him, to break down her defenses if just for one moment to test out this silly pillow.

“Okay, I guess that’s true.”

She agrees to his suggestion rather quickly, but overthinks how to get on the bed without it being either unintentionally sensual or incredibly awkward.

She decides to just bend a knee at the end of the mattress, crawling up a couple inches and then shifting on her bottom. She scoots herself further up, turning onto her side as Harry lifts the pregnancy pillow. He carefully turns it up and over her head, resting it in a backward C-shape with the curve of the pillow against her back.

“So ... does it like ... go between my legs or something?”

She sinks into the plush material of the pillow, pulling the bottom end between her knees and squishing it.

“Erm ... yeah. Think so. That’s what the picture looked like. And the long part supports your back.”

She shuffles around, a hand on her belly as if it needs guidance alongside her. “I’m being so dramatic,” she admits. “My belly’s not even big enough for me to be complaining yet.”

“Uh-uh. There’s no argument when it comes to your comfort. You can’t sleep on your back or your stomach without it, so it is helping you out.”

“Okay, yeah, but ... oh.”

Harry crouches down to her eye-level, narrowing his eyes at her remark. “Oh?”

“Oh,” she confirms, snuggling into the pillow. “Oh, my back...”

“What’s wrong with it? Does it hurt?”

“No!” she exasperatedly laughs. His concern is persistent, but cute nonetheless. “This pillow has so much support for my back. And it’s so ... firm. And comfortable. And it smells nice.”

Harry smiles at her bliss. Her eyes flutter shut, and she digs her head deeper to breathe in the soft material.

“It’s alright, then?”

“Alright?” she opens her eyes, a close-lipped smile across her bare face. “Yeah, Harry. It’s alright.”

The moment proceeds with silence. She marvels at this new treasure of hers; Harry watches her with very great care. His legs begin to burn due to the prolong crouching position that he is in, so he settles himself down on the floorboards. His knees bend in front of him, his hands locking by the fingers around them.

A small conversation ensues thereafter, small little remarks over how her experience is going, the hassle he had gone through to get it for her, and harmless small talk that reveals a little bit about their drastically different lives.

She’s not sure how much time has passed until she hears the front door opening. The sound of crackling plastic bags mixes in with the jingle of keys, but she doesn’t relax until she hears the lock of the front door.

“I got your avocados!”

The deep voice makes Harry do a double-take. His acquaintance lets out a squeal and rises from her bed, shifting to plant her feet on the floor. She reaches down to tug on his arm, without realizing that this is the first she has actually touched him in the two separate times that they’ve met.

“C’mon, you can meet my roommate,” she whispers. “He’s going to freak out!”

“He?” Harry questions, but the woman is already out the door.

When his 24-year-old body eventually gets up and strolls down the hallway, he leans against the closest wall and begins his observation. There is a tall man in his sights whose back faces him. This guy, who he now realizes is not Erin, but Aaron, un-bags the groceries on the same kitchen counter that his pregnant roommate somehow manages to prop herself up on.

“...so expensive, you can buy them yourself next time.”

“Don’t act if you’re not going to enjoy them, too.”

“You’re lucky I even got you the Twizzlers on top of your Sour Patch Kids. They ran out of pistachio ice cream, by the way. I’m not sure how. Who even eats pistachio?”

The terrible news makes the woman’s jaw slowly fall, but when she notices Harry, the gape of her mouth turns upright.

“Aaron,” she begins, “I have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t want it.”

“It’s a good surprise!”

“I don’t think any scheme you come up with can ever be good.”

“Just stop being stubborn and turn around!”

Aaron glares at the woman suspiciously before cautiously turning his body around. His body jolts back, frightened by the unfamiliar third person, until his face suddenly goes slack.

“Holy shit,” Aaron breathes out, recognizing the luscious curls and wonderfully structured face. “What the fuck? What – he’s, that’s...”

“He’s Harry,” the only woman in the room announces, then looks to the Cheshire man. “This is Aaron, my roommate if you couldn’t tell.”

He can tell. He can also tell that his presence dumbfounds Aaron. What he doesn’t know is how much she had raved about him to Aaron the day following their first meeting. Her roommate had been incredibly jealous, insisting that he joins her on her next treat-yourself-Friday.

“Pleasure.” Harry forces a smile, steps forward, and holds his hand out for him to shake.

Aaron nods, still overwhelmed when he grips onto Harry’s hand. His hold is so tight, as if he never wants to let go.

“Harry Styles,” Aaron states, laughing at the image of the curly-headed man. “This is ... I don’t even want to ask. This is just perfect. Holy shit.”

The woman finds amusement in her roommate’s profanity. She laughs at him while Harry stands there and watches the twinkle grow in her eyes. He starts to feel uncomfortable, the space making him feel as though he is an outlier and does not belong.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Harry raises his wrist, focusing his vision to the watch clasped around. “I’m afraid I have to be heading out.”

The two people in front of him become dejected at his announcement. “Really?” the pregnant woman asks. The hour seems to have gone by far too quickly.

“Yes. I have ... um, something came up on my schedule.”

Aaron sighs. “Damn. That sucks.”

“Yes.” Harry simply nods. “Yes, it does suck, but I’ve really enjoyed my time here. Erm...”

He contemplates the idea that flashes through his mind. In a short few seconds, he fights with himself, imagining if any consequences can come out of it. He says her name anyway, without fully establishing a proper intention.

“Do you have a pen? And something I can write on?”

At his request, the two roommates instantly separate. Their busy bodies frantically search the messy unit for exactly what he needs. She finds a blue pen with its cap missing from the drawer in the kitchen; Aaron runs to retrieve a yellow sticky note from his bedroom next to hers.

“Here,” he says, a little out of breath, but still managing to flash a charming smile.

Harry thanks him, then steps forward to place himself in the space between the two roommates. He sets the sticky note down on the kitchen counter and leans over to scribble something with the colored ink.

“You seem to have everything well under your control here. Aaron obviously helps you tremendously.”

The other man smiles excitedly at the way his name drowns in Harry’s English accent.

“But if you ever need something, please...” Harry straightens up, peeling the sticky note off of the counter’s flat surface. He scans it over quickly, then turns to his right to present it to her appropriately. “Don’t hesitate to call this number.”

The woman projects her head back, blinking profusely at the blue digits staining the single sticky note. From over Harry’s shoulder, Aaron’s eyes are wide and bright, but she can’t focus on them. Her head begins to spin, eyes squinting as if to steady the ever-turning world.

Normally she would find it within herself to reject his kind offer. She would tell him with a sweet smile that it is okay, that she is fine the way she is, despite wanting nothing more than to see him again. This gesture of his is so unexpected that she is taken aback and lost at what she is to do.

“Um ... thank you,” she settles on, fingertips pinching on the thin note. She doesn’t know what she will do with it, but for now some other mindless part of her guides her actions.

Harry smiles, relieved that she accepts his proffer. He stares at her a little longer; the way she instinctively shelters her baby mesmerizes him.

“Alright, well. I must be off. Thank you for inviting me into your lovely home.” Harry turns around to Aaron, who is thankful that his cheeks do not turn red from embarrassment. “Nice meeting you.”

“An honor,” Aaron says, gripping onto his hand one final time. When Harry turns away and proceeds to the door, the other man cringes at his choice of words.

She follows after him, watches as he unlocks the door and unlatches the gate. The sun whips its fiery flames on the skin of their warm bodies, but Harry ignores the heat to turn around and gently embrace her. His gesture takes her by surprise, but she acts quickly and presses her hands against the back of his shoulder blades.

“Lovely seeing you again,” Harry mutters her name. His large hand stings on her back, the anchor on his wrist hooking her in. “I hope you like the gift. Until next time?”

When he pulls away, she isn’t in the right state of mind to respond with words. Instead, she nods in agreement and gives him a measly wave, just as she had done on the first night. While Aaron begins to silently thrash around in the kitchen, she watches Harry descend to the ground just as the black vehicle conveniently pulls up to the curb.

She watches him from the door, this time for the entire duration until his car disappears beneath the autumn skies. The yellow sticky-note is heavy in her hands, the idea of meeting with him again tickles her bones. He has been so kind to her, enough that she wonders how fortunate her little family is to receive such endearment.

Even if she has not felt her child move yet, she knows that they are just as touched by it as she is.

[rhapsodic-euphoria]

Someone I Should Know?

↳Masterlist

↓Taeyong x reader

⇒Idol au

→Next

⇄A/N: I’m starting on a second part to this...TBH, this was supposed to be wayyyy more mature. Like to mature mature. But, I decided to take a ‘fluffier’ approach. *shrugs*Anyways, I haven’t actually been to a concert before. *cries in fangirl*But, one of friend has went to like a Katy Perry concert so I got some info about concerts from her. Enjoy and stay healthy!!~

You shivered, exhaling a shaky breath. You were dragged to the largest concert halls in Seoul, because of your ‘friend’. You were going to a NTC or an NCT concert, whatever the name was.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You angrily mumbled.

“Go in the bushes.” Your friend nodded to the nearby shrubbery.

You looked at her disgusted. Your friend just shrugged.

“Just wait a few more minutes.” She said.

“You said that an hour ago.” You deadpanned.

“That’s because I was lying.” She shrugged. “See! We’re moving!” She suddenly exclaimed.

“Seriously?” I asked, and before you knew it, you were traveling slowly to the building at a snail’s pace.

But really, you did get inside after a few minutes of silently cursing.

After getting your wristband, you quickly waved at your friend, off to find a bathroom.

“Bathroom, bathroom.” You muttered as you quickly went through any sort of random door. Unsurprisingly, you got lost. You were in a hallway with several doors. There were people running hurriedly through the doors.

“Hey. You shouldn’t be here.” A guy pointed at you.

You widened your eyes. Ok, this was ridiculous, you just needed a bathroom, and you would be on your merry way, but no. Of course, not. 

You quickly ran the other direction, and the man quickly followed after you.

You made a sharp left, huffing as you saw the open door in front of you.

When you looked inside of the open room, you locked eyes with a man. He was half-naked.

“Holy shit.” You whispered. He had an extremely toned body. Not too bulky, but not too skinny either. He had an intense gaze, that was trained on you.

You both heard the loud footsteps of the guy who was coming after you. “Where is she?” He said, footsteps quickening towards your direction.

Right before you got caught, the half-naked man pulled you into the room. Gently slamming you against the closed door.

The only thing you heard was your loud thumps, and the quiet breathing of the man pinning you.

The footsteps soon became distant, signaling the absence of the man who was trying to catch you.

You didn’t know you were holding your breath until you exhaled in relief.

But that was soon in vain. You immediately looked up, locking eyes with the man. Your breath got caught in your throat. He not only had an intense gaze, but one of the most handsome faces you’ve seen.

He slowly brought his face closer to yours, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your mouth. But, before he could meet your lips, he maneuvered his head next to yours.

“Hey.” He whispered, making a tingle go up your spine.

He pulled away, giving you a smirk. You, confused, just tilted your head.

“What?” You asked, partially to yourself.

The man was silently, observing you, as if your face had the answers to your confused state.

“Hey.” He said again, even giving a small wave this time.

Again, you gave a normal reaction. 

“Hi?” You say questionably, really confused.

“Do you know me?” He deadpanned, putting his arms to his sides.

“Do you know me?” You asked him.

He just gave you a ‘seriously’, look.

“Do you know who’s concert you’re at?” He asks you.

“Umm. I think it was like NTC or NTC or something.” You shrugged. 

You saw how the man frowned, but soon his face split into a large grin.

“I’m Lee Taeyong.” He introduced happily, giving out a hand.

“Hi.” You shook his hand, giving him your name.

“Wow, beautiful name.” He winked at you. You just rolled your eyes, not able to hide the small smile.

“Wait, Taeyong-ssi. Why are you...” You gestured to his naked torso.

“First of all, don’t be so formal with me.” He said, smiling. “And two, I was actually changing but you came in.” 

“Ahh. Why here?” You asked again.

“It was the only open room..?” He said.

“So, are you a staff here?” You asked.

“Why do you ask?” He said.

“Because...I think you’d probably be the most handsome staff member I’ve seen.” You blatantly said.

“Heh.” He only chuckled in return.

“what?” You asked.

“Because this beautiful girl called me handsome.” He smiled at you.

Your mouth formed a thin line as you slapped his arm, making him start laughing.

“Hyung!” You heard a voice outside of the door.

“Uh. yeah?” Taeyong put a finger to his lips.

“We’re going to go out soon, are you ready yet?” The male voice sounded.

“Uh. Just give me a few.” He replied.

“Okay, don’t take too long though.” The voice said, and you both heard footsteps getting softer, signaling his leave.

“You’re going to leave?” You asked, a bit disappointed to see a new friend leave so soon.

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, grabbing a shirt behind him.

“But, I’ll meet you after the concert?” He asked hopefully, his head popping out of the shirt he put on.

“Okay.” You said, smiling at him. “Where?”

“Uh. How about the back entrance, 30 minutes after the concert ends?” He says, smiling back at you.

“Deal.” You say. “Oh. Do you know where the bathroom is?” You ask.

“Oh, there’s one if you make a left right when you exit.” He says. “Also if you just keep going straight in the hallway you were just in, you’ll get to the concert hall.”

“Thanks.” You say, glad that he noticed your bad sense of direction.

“Bye.” You waved at him, opening the door.

“Bye.” He walked up to you, giving a small peck on your head.

You chuckled when you noticed his whole face a red shade.

You quickly left and made your way to the bathroom, safely arriving there.

After doing your business, you followed Taeyong’s direction and found your friend who was about to die of your extended absence.

“I was going to die.” She sobbed.

“It’s okay.” You gently patted her head, comforting her.

“Anayways, let’s go to our seats.” She let you to your 2nd floor seats, suddenly happy and excited.

You and your friend could barely afford the expensive front row seats everyone dreamed of. You both would just have to do with the higher view on the second floor.

You honestly really enjoyed yourself much more at the concert than you believed. You promised yourself that you would check out more of NCT’s music when you got home.

Strangely, you found out that the leader of NCT looked a lot like Taeyong. You shrugged, many people in the world looked like others.

Before you knew it, the concert ended. You had to admit that you thought the long, cold wait outside was totally worth it.

Remembering Taeyong’s promise, you told your friend that you’d text her when you got home, and waved her off when she climbed on a taxi.

“Wasn’t the wait, worth it?” You friend giggled as she climbed on the taxi.

“See you.” You waved, ignoring her. She just laughed, as the taxi pulled off the curb, leaving you.

You stared at the taxi for a moment, until you decided to walk to the back entrance.

You saw that there was practically no one there, almost everyone had already left the hall in the front entrance.

You leaned on a nearby wall, taking out your phone to check out some NCT music.

Before you could even press the search button, a hand took your phone.

“What’s this?” You recognised the male voice.

“Taeyong.” You whined, not able to reach your phone because of his outstretched hand.

“Why are you looking at your phone?” He asked.

“Because I wanted to learn more about NCT.” You shrugged, as he gave your phone back. You turned it off, giving him your full attention.

Taeyong was wearing all black, with a black mask and snapback to match.

“Eh. They’re ok.” He shrugged. “You shouldn’t waste your time on them, though.”

“Then who should I waste my time on?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Me.” He said, pulling you closer to him in a back hug.

You giggled at his adorableness, patting his cheeks.

He frowned, not expecting the treatment you just gave him. 

“Am I so cute to you?” He asked, his voice muffled because he put his head into your shoulder.

“So cute.” You said, laughing as Taeyong pouted.

“Do you like anyone in the group?” He suddenly asks.

“Hmm?” 

“In NCT.” He corrected himself.

“Oh. I think maybe the leader.” You say, a bit embarrassed to tell a guy.

“Why?” He asks, rocking both your bodies slowly.

“I think because he looks like you.” You say.

He only hummed happily in response.

He lead you to a nearby park, both of you sitting down at a bench in the middle of the dark empty park.

“Can I consider this as a date?” You ask, suddenly.

“Only if you can consider me as a more than a friend.” He replied, gazing at you.

“Of course, I do.” You say. “I consider you a best friend.” You say jokingly.

Taeyong only frowned, only making you laugh.

“Obviously, I consider you boyfriend material, Taeyong.” You say, a smile on your face.

“I would probably blind, deaf, and stupid if I didn’t.” You continued, a smile on Taeyong’s face getting larger.

He suddenly lifted you up, twirling you in his arms. “So then, girlfriend?” He tested the word, satisfied.

“Yup.” You say happily, popping the ‘p’.

“Can I say something, though?” He said.

“Of course.” You reply, wondering what he was going to say.

“You would...like me no matter what, right?” 

You gaped at his question, not expecting the conversation to run so deep, so suddenly.

“Yes.” You say immediately.

“Even if...” He doesn’t continue.

“No matter what. I love you for who you are, not what you do, or what you’ve done.” You say, proudly.

He stares at you. “Say it again.”

“No matter wh-” You start, being cut off by Taeyong.

“Not that.”

“I...love you?” You say, questionate.

He nods. “Say that again.”

“I love you, Lee Taeyong.” You say again, more confident.

“I love you.” He smiles, giving you one of the brightest smiles that ever faced the Earth.

“How do you not know me?” He asks.

“Whaddu mean?” You say into his chest.

“I think I would be someone you should know.” He says.

“Someone I should know?” You ask, feeling him nod.

“I do know you.” You smiled up at him.

His face turned into a smile, hugging you closer.

Taeyong POV

I know I shouldn’t lie to her like this, but I can’t help but not tell her. It’s been a breath of fresh air to be comfortable with someone ‘normal’, who doesn’t fangirl over me or worry over me constantly. And to love someone.

I hate myself for not having the courage to not tell her. I’m afraid that something bad will happen if I do.

I pat her head, admiring her soft hair. 

I suppose then I’d have to be someone unknown as well. Someone she shouldn’t know.

[fluffandlove]

Sensitivity

Author’s note: First TodoDeku fic ever yaaaas Based on this one experiment on TV I saw as a kid and also personal experience, I guess? Sooo I thought it’d be fun to use this for a fanfic ‘cause I’m trash, yes. 

Summary: They say the closer you feel to a person, the more sensitive you become to their touch. Maybe that’s why Midoriya gets so jumpy every time Todoroki touches him.

Word count: 2,5k oops

After they became friends, Todoroki joined Midoriya and the rest during lunch and sometimes even sat next to him without thinking. Their arms and legs would sometimes touch, but neither would make a big deal out of it, since they were pretty much always busy talking or laughing at something Iida said or did. Plus, it was nothing major, or anything.

Touch was very common in their small friend group and not really something Todoroki had put a lot of thought into. It didn’t come naturally to him per se, as he hadn’t experienced a lot of touch throughout his childhood because he was very much an introvert and not a very social person to begin with. Having friends was already a whole new world on its own, so Todoroki kind of just went with the flow, trying not to worry too much about the brief brushes of skin against skin.

Something he did notice, though, was that Uraraka would often put her hands on Midoriya’s shoulder if she had something exciting to say or clumsily bump into him, turn bright red and zoom off. The latter made him reevaluate some of his thought process since everyone and their cousin (except Midoriya of course) knew that Uraraka had a schoolgirl crush on him, which is why she’d get overly fiddly whenever they touched accidentally. Not to mention that if Midoriya touched her first, she’d absolutely lose her shit.

Maybe one’s sense of touch became different when there was an underlying want of intimacy. Obviously the type of touch also came into play, but Todoroki noticed that no matter how he touched Midoriya, the guy would always jump ten feet into the air and turn to him wide-eyed. It almost reminded him of poor Uraraka, except Midoriya’s nerves weren’t something new and he always had rosy cheeks to begin with.

Observing all of this was interesting. Todoroki was just silently watching everything from the sidelines, noticing the subtle differences in Midoriya’s reactions to different people touching him. Most of them weren’t obvious, and yes, he was always a bit jumpy, but never reached the level of extremity whenever Todoroki placed a hand on his arm.

Obviously this could also be blamed on the fact that he and Midoriya weren’t that close yet. Todoroki couldn’t really come up with any other good conclusion and was probably never going to be able to.  

Until that intriguing moment where Uraraka randomly turned to Midoriya, fingers hovering near his side and asking, “Are you ticklish?”

Todoroki resisted the urge to roll his eyes since that was the stupidest question anyone could ever ask, but still had to hide a smile behind his hand when Midoriya turned several shades of red and sputtered out a weak, “N-no!”

“Liar,” Uraraka sneered and poked his stomach, which resulted in Midoriya jumping away with a squawk. “You are! That’s so cute!”  

Luckily for Midoriya it was lunchtime, so barely anyone noticed his snorts and giggles, but he was still forced to take Uraraka’s playful torment until Iida stepped in because, “This is so very unprofessional, we’re trying to become heroes.”

Ever since then multiple people had tried tickling Midoriya during or after class and once again, Todoroki noticed some subtle differences: Not only was Midoriya more sensitive to people tickling him around his shoulders and ribs, but it also depended on who was doing it. Every time a girl wiggled her fingers against his side he’d have a more drastic reaction than when it was one of the guys doing the exact same thing in the exact same spot.

Midoriya also became more sensitive when he was tired, super excited or completely absorbed in his work. Kind of like how he was now.

It was definitely not the first time Todoroki had come over to his place to do homework, but he couldn’t help but be curious. With all of those observations and theories in mind, Todoroki wanted to know how Midoriya would react to his touch.

Yes, Todoroki was very aware of the fact that this was lame. It was incredibly dumb to slowly get up from his spot on the floor and sneak over to Midoriya, who was sitting behind his desk, tapping his pencil repeatedly against his lips while he was poring over his notes. Not to mention that it was so stupid to reach for the back of his neck with one finger and trace his spine.

However, the reaction was anything but.

Midoriya literally fucking shrieked. And Todoroki stared at him in disbelief and shock, finger still hovering over his back.

Both were pretty surprised.

“Todoroki-kun!” Midoriya wheezed and turned his chair to sort-of-but-not-really glare up at him because aforementioned flush on his cheeks was now exceptionally darker. “What’re you— Wait!”

Science. That was Todoroki’s only reason to cup Midoriya’s waist and let his fingers dance all over his clothed sides. Again, unlike his usual response, Midoriya instantly doubled over in boisterous laughter, hugging himself in a useless attempt to protect his skin. Todoroki didn’t even have to try that hard because every single touch sent Midoriya into another fit of laughter. Whether it was a squeeze, scribble or a poke.

No matter how he looked at it, Todoroki found it utterly fascinating to watch Midoriya squirm off the chair so he would no longer be fully trapped, but he only managed to stand on his feet for a mere second before he fell to the floor due to his endless laughter. The flush on his cheeks kept darkening, spreading to the rest of his face, his ears and even his neck, which Todoroki noticed when he experimentally ran a couple of fingers over his collarbone.

Todoroki was in constant awe, letting his fingers do their own thing while they explored, even daring to go under Midoriya’s shirt (it had ridden up anyway) to see what kind of reaction that would cause.

Instant. That was the right word.

The second Todoroki’s fingers touched his bare stomach Midoriya lost it completely. Head thrown back, baring his slightly sweaty and flushed neck, back arched off the floor, eyes shut and laughter increasing in pitch.

“God, T-Todoroki-kun!” his voice broke and Todoroki didn’t pay too much attention to the flutter in his own stomach. “Quit iiiit!”

But he didn’t want to. He wanted to touch every inch of skin he could find to record the reactions and store them in the back of his mind for all eternity. The soft and warm skin continuously trembled and twitched beneath his touch and Todoroki just observed, listening to the kind of laughter Midoriya produced whenever he switched spots or used a different method. Plus, Midoriya’s careless and cute laughter was acting like some kind of drug, making him feel high and wanting, needing more.

Once his fingers wriggled under his clamped arms, brushing ever so lightly over Midoriya’s underarms he knew he’d struck a very dangerous chord. Another shriek, similar to the first one, filled the air and Midoriya did everything he could to push Todoroki off of him, which was not very effective, since all he could do was weakly push at his arms while screeching and squealing.

Damn. This was definitely valuable information that he’d have to remember for the future. Eh, so if he didn’t want Midoriya to die, he’d have to go a bit lower, back to his ribs, which still gave him a shout of panicked laughter, but less panicked than before. He kept giving Midoriya unintentional bursts of energy by switching spots and methods, finding that soft caresses got the loudest reactions such as hysterical screams while the harder, firmer touches got endless rivers of pure laughter.

Said laughter was growing silent now, so Todoroki pulled his hands back, not bothering to pull his shirt back down for reasons and… sat back on his legs, watching as Midoriya let out a low whine and threw his arms up, totally exhausted. He didn’t really have to test his theory anymore, anyway.

Midoriya’s raw breathing was enough proof that he became hypersensitive when it was Todoroki who was touching him.  

“Sorry,” was all he could say because that was probably what Midoriya wanted to hear. Maybe he went a little overboard.  

Midoriya blinked a few times before he pushed himself up with his elbows and blew his bangs out of his face. “Why-why did you even do that?”

“You react differently to my touch,” Todoroki stated matter-of-factly and couldn’t help but look away for a few seconds. “I wanted to see if that also counted for tickling.”

“You...” Midoriya started but then closed his mouth again, his face becoming redder once again. “Huh?”

“You’re more sensitive to my touch.”

Even redder. “Am not!”

Todoroki moved closer and was about to show him, but Midoriya was not about to let him and they ended up wrestling. It was only a matter of seconds before they were rolling around like a couple of angry puppies, but Todoroki was still at a slight advance because of Midoriya’s weakened state so he managed to pin him down in the end.

“You are, though,” he said seriously and watched as Midoriya pressed his lips together in response, nervous. “You’re more sensitive to my touch than other people’s, Midoriya. It’s kinda fascinating.”

“What, have you been observing me or something?” Midoriya sputtered out and tried to knee him in the stomach, but Todoroki simply tweaked his side as a small warning and Midoriya curled up as much as possible.

“Well, yeah,” Todoroki replied casually as if Midoriya wasn’t trying to squirm away from the hand that was still on his waist. “’Twas just something I noticed. You’re a lot more ticklish when I tickle you than when Uraraka or Kirishima tickles you. We just witnessed that.”

Midoriya stared at him.

Todoroki stared back.

He’d left Midoriya speechless, but his face said it all. He didn’t disagree. He couldn’t, even if he tried, and if he did, Todoroki was more than willing to convince him. He unconsciously curled his fingers that were still wrapped around his waist and Midoriya jerked away from them, groaning out, “Todoroki-kun! Let go already!”

“See?”

The permanent red hue on his cheeks spread down to his neck. “I’m just ticklish, that’s all!”

Raising an eyebrow, Todoroki’s lips curled up into a small smirk. “You know I’m right. You’re hiding something.”

It was common knowledge that Midoriya was a bad liar and yet he still tried to cover his ass. “I’m not.”

“I’ll tickle it out of you.” And to show that he wasn’t bluffing, Todoroki grabbed his hips and Midoriya gasped sharply. It was a spot he hadn’t tried out yet and this was a nice opportunity. “I fucking will.”

“Nooooo!” Midoriya was already thrashing and getting breathless even though the hands on his hips hadn’t even moved yet.

Anticipation was apparently a thing, Todoroki noted, but something he also noticed when he gently slid his hands under his shirt was his fastened heartbeat. He could feel Midoriya’s chest heaving and his heart hammering like crazy. His hand stilled on his chest for a moment to make sure he was not imagining things before it moved over to his ribs again and as soon as he made eye-contact, he knew.

“Why’re you nervous?”

“Cause you’re about to tickle me,” Midoriya argued stubbornly but again, he was lying. “Will you—Ah! No!”

Todoroki had lightly scratched at his lower ribs and was about travel lower to his hips when Midoriya grabbed his wrists firmly. “Okay, okay! I like you!”

Well.

That was something Todoroki should’ve seen coming but he was still taken by surprise. Sort of. It explained a lot, but… now it was his turn to be at a loss for words. Even his usual train of thoughts stopped because Midoriya’s words were still being processed.

His hands dangled above Midoriya’s trembling torso, still in the other’s grip and he finally managed to look him in the eye again. “… You do?”

Instead of replying, Midoriya just nodded and awkwardly shifted until he was sitting up. “I just didn’t wanna make things weird between us, ‘cause we’ve been friends for a while now and things’re fine the way they are, but I guess somewhere along the way I started to like you more than a friend.”

This was something so new and weird that Todoroki could only nod because he was unable to say anything decent. The familiar flutter in his stomach returned and he noticed that there were more flutters than before, as if something was tickling him, except it was from the inside, which was fucking weird.

Then again, it was also kind of weird that he didn’t mind Midoriya being so close and practically holding his hands as those still hadn’t moved yet. His brain was torn between processing everything that was happening but also continuously yelling at him to shove his hands back under Midoriya’s shirt, what the actual—

“Todoroki-kun?”

“What.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

The hands tightened their grip on his wrists. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Todoroki couldn’t remember being able to feel his breath ghosting over his cheeks, but there it was. One of them was moving closer to the other and he had no clue who it was, but he didn’t particularly mind. In fact, because of their proximity, his fingers kept brushing against Midoriya’s stomach and he did the only thing he could think of, which was to touch it in earnest.

Flinch. Midoriya’s eyes widened and they looked at each other for a couple of seconds before Todoroki sighed and wrapped his hands around his hips, pulling him even closer. Their bodies were pressed together and Midoriya just sat there, probably feeling kind of awkward.

“Um. You okay?”

“Let’s just stay like this for a bit. I like touching you,” Todoroki mumbled, squeezing him and almost stiffened when he felt Midoriya’s arms circling around his neck, hugging him, but it was not unwanted.

“Me, too.”

“Good.”

[wellmeaningshutin]

Short Story #93: Prophets

Written: 4/10/2017                                                                Interwoven Week

The city didn’t know how it happened, but a noticeable amount of their homeless population had begun to think of themselves as reincarnated prophets, and for an entire Summer it seemed like people couldn’t go anywhere without running into a reborn Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha, etc, and some had even reported running into men and women who claimed to have the soul of the late L Ron Hubbard. First the city council had decided to create rules that required any of these preachers to require permits to do so, but it turned out that they all refused, think themselves as prophets, not preachers, and the police were frustrated that a lot of their time was being sunk into cracking down on a bunch of harmless, although crazy, people. So, the city council designated on street to be the only place where these prophets could speak their mind, as a way of sweeping it all under the rug. So, on N Rosewood, prophets stood next to each other on the sidewalk, trying to get their messages out to those who would hear it, which were mainly people traveling through the city to reach their real, far away destinations, or just simple tourists coming in from out of town, who were all bewildered, but somewhat in awe, of the lines of homeless who shouted at the cars, trying to spread the word of their own personal gods.

Among the crowd was a man who knew that he was the real second coming of Jesus Christ, and although it was discomforting that he had to stand among these delusional people, he knew that he had handled lepers, so this couldn’t be any worse. Besides, he was the real deal, and his stay among this group was only temporary, and he both understood and forgave the authorities who had crammed him in with this lot, because they didn’t yet have a reason to know that he was different. However, he had no idea how he was supposed to pull off the miracle that would separate them from the rest, so he spent his days trying to spread the word of the lord, “When my body left this mortal Earth and the ground had split open in a farewell, I saw my father once again and he told me, ‘Son, you need to go back down to Earth in a little while, to make sure that they understood your teachings.’ And when I came back I found that the church had usurped the religion itself, they had fabricated lies and had done evil. I did not want, or even ask for the Crusades, but many had claimed to do so in my name. I did not support any wars, and I especially didn’t support the pope who blessed bombs that were dropped on his fellow men. I can’t understand why so many people worked to cover up what the priests had been doing to children, because it doesn’t matter if it all makes the church look bad, I couldn’t care less about the church. You do not pray to the church, its all about my father.”

“You mean my father.” Said an impersonator at his side, “But I’ll let that slide since you do not knoweth what you say is wrong.”

“And I’ll let your misunderstanding slide, because you don’t understand not what you do.”

“You seem like a reasonable guy,” adjusting his sunglasses, “not like a lot of these nuts. What’s your name pal?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“No shit, my name is also Jesus. So, what’s going on with this place?”

“Well, I think the city decided that this would be the easiest way to-”

“No, not this street, I mean with, like,” making a spherical motion with his hands, “the whole world. What’s up with all of these different churches that had formed based off of our teachings? Its like people can’t read the bible for themselves, and they have to subscribe to a certain way of interpreting things. What happened to being a good person, doing no wrong, not judging others, eh?”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Although, I’d have to disagree, since I really agree with the teachings of-”

“And that’s how I know I’m the real Christ, and you’re just another one of these poor, delusional folk. However, I know there is good in your heart, I know you are misguided, you are a lamb astray from the frock.” On the other side of the street, the two conversing Christs had seen a man dressed in a toga, who apparently believed he was the second coming of Zeus. “I will not go into an argument about why the churches themselves are wrong, because you may not have the ability to understand it, however-” the man who knew he was the real Christ listened patiently to this delusional man, “-I think we can both agree that some religions have become an intense bastardization. Like, what’s up with Mormons? Who the fuck thought it was reasonable to believe in fan fiction?”

“Well,” grinning, “I will have to answer your question in a bit, because I have a question for you now: if you are the real Jesus Christ, and I am not, then why do you swear?”

“Swearing is not inherently bad, there are no words that are immoral. It is not my fault if you place so much power on the words of men, if you chose to see evil and sin where none lies. This question further shows that you aren’t-”

“Whatever guy, I never swore during my fist visit to Earth, you can look it up in the Bible. So if I never swore then, then why would I swear now? Why wouldn’t you act like-”

“Times have changed, and with modern times you need a modern message. If I want to say fuckhead or shitass, then is fine, as long as I do not use these words to inflict emotional distress onto others. See, I’m the real Jesus, so everything I do is what Jesus would do. Like, take last night for example, I got stoned and ate an entire box of crackers, but that doesn’t make me less holy.”

The other Christ just smiled, and knew that the other man was so deep inside of his delusion that there was no breaking him out. So, he decided to respond to the previous question, hoping things could become more productive, “Well, I-”

Before he could respond, a third man walked up to them, dressed in a glittery track suit, also claiming to be Christ. “Hey, you guys are a couple of Christs right?”

“Yeah,” the Christ with shades had said.

“Cool, cool. Well, I’ve been going around asking a lot of us questions, because I have a sneaking suspicion that somebody may be the second coming of Satan, only pretending to be one of us.” The two Christs nodded their heads, as if they had also felt the devil’s presence. “Anyways, I have some questions to ask just to test things out. So, like, what are your views on rock n’ roll music?”

The Zeus was beginning to yell, “Wake up people, Cronus is not dead, he is coming for all of us, he can not be stopped! You, mortals, must bring the pantheons to their former glory-”, while two Buddhas wondered if a god belonged among the prophets, but they also had a hard time trying to figure out if the Christs counted as gods or prophets, until they decided to relax for a while, to let the confusion dissipate. A tourist drove by to see these Buddha’s forms of meditation, which looked, to the tourist, as two sweaty and shirtless homeless men who were taking turns giving each other back rubs.

“Well,” said the “real” Christ, “rock n’ roll music is from the devil, and I do not like it.”

“Actually,” Said the shaded Christ, “Rock n’ Roll music is completely harmless, and was actually created by me up in heaven, when I shredded on my guitar, to make a pure form of music that would be very enjoyable for mortals down below, because I do not want anyone to suffer. The devil has only claimed this music as his own, in order to deter the pious away from it, so they can fall into the clutches of truly sinful music, like jazz. You ever notice how jazz is the perfect representation of chaos, how its just atonal notes layered on top of each other with no form, no rhythm, poisoning the soul with ideas of-”

“Have you even listened to jazz music? That’s the real divine music, and I know because in my room, in my father’s kingdom, I have a large piano that I played constantly. I used the beauty of the notes to-”

“Yeah yeah yeah, a lot of tough talk for the devil.”

“You’re the devil!”

The glittery Christ watched as the “real” Christ threw a left hook and landed it square in the face of the pro-rock Christ, causing the man’s sunglasses to break. After reeling backwards in pain, having his sunglass fragments fall to the floor, instead of retaliating, he only turned his cheek. “You,” said the glittery Christ to the injured man, “are not Satan. I can tell this. The real Satan would not only have struck the other man back, but he may have also turned him into a goat, which he would sexually abuse and then skin alive, maybe turning it into a sort of hat that he could wear as he drank blood in the moonlight. I can tell that you,” pointing at the aggressive Christ, “are Satan himself, because you have struck the man in the first place. Even if you-”

“Wait a second-” said the Jesus whose fist was slightly bleeding, “Why would the devil bother blowing his cover by attacking somebody? You know what I think?” Turning to the man he had struck, “I think this guy is actually the devil, because he’s going around trying to make sure that other people look like the devil, making him seem above suspicion. The devil is a master of lies, he is the great deceiver, and he is doing that by making these delusional Christs think that one of them is Satan, but he never makes them think he is one of them. Its like he’s a spy who is in charge of finding spies.”

“And-” Said the Jesus with a now bleeding nose, “you becoming angry and striking me is because you are only human, instead of the son of God that you think you are.”

“Well, that’s your opinion.”

“And if you were the devil, you would-”

“If he was the devil,” said a fourth Christ, who was also in the process of eating a hot dog, “he would probably be trying to convert everyone to one of the demonic religions, like Buddhisim or Islam.”

“And,” pitched in a fifth Jesus, who was secretly also trying to befriend these other Christs, “if he were Satan, than wouldn’t he be trying to get people to vote for Hilla-” the other Christs cut him off by groaning very loudly, and the fifth Christ walked away in embarrassment, trying to find another group to worm his way into.

“What kind of Jesus does that guy think he is?” Asked the fourth Christ, “Who the hell tries to-”

“Hey,” Said the bloody knuckled Christ, “Language.”

“Sorry. Who in the H tries to mix religion and politics? That’s what killed Joan of Arc people.”

“Yeah,” Said the bruised Christ, “politics and religion shouldn’t mix, because-”

“SATAN!” The glittery Christ yelled as he pointed to the injured Christ, then at the other who was tearing off a chunk of a greasy hot dog with his teeth. “SATANS, ALL OF YOU! Everyone knows that the real Jesus would know that his religion was the true religion-”  Twenty different prophets nearby heard this and scowled, some complained about how silly it was that the Jesus’s thought that they were the real deals, when their religion was just a load of bullshit. “-and since the religion is true, then that means that all should obey the word of the lord. We shouldn’t allow the delusions of the men who cannot believe the divine truth to govern the righteous!  Just because they cannot see the truth doesn’t mean that we should allow them to live their sinful lives?”

“What about acceptance and understanding?” Asked nosebleed Jesus. “What kind of Christ talks about being so forceful and hateful? Shouldn’t we love everyone?”

“That’s because,” said bloody knuckled Jesus, “He’s not a Christ at all, he’s not even like you guys, who are delusional believe yourselves to be me. He knows that he’s the devil, and he is trying to lead you guys astray so that you will imitate his wretched ways, instead of my righteous ways.”

A tall Jesus joined the group, wearing  a denim jacket with crosses drawn all over in sharpie. “Hey, what’s up guys, what’s the deal with the commotion? Don’t you know that you’re making me, the real Jesus Christ, look bad, by the way you’re all fighting and arguing? Because of you, people are going to think that I’m hateful, and they will ignore my message of peace and love, while walking themselves into hell.”

“Well,” said the fourth Jesus, with a mouthful of mostly bun and mustard, “we’re trying to find out who the devil is, I think. I’ve had some trouble following this, but I think one of you fake Christs are supposed to actually be a fake Satan, maybe even a real Satan, and we’re trying to sort out who it may be.”

“Hm. How do you guys know that there is just one, how do you know that there aren’t multiple devils, all hiding among us?”

“Well,” said a Hubbard, “if you think about it your religion is just a load of horse shit, and its pretty vein of you guys to think of yourselves as important enough to have a bunch of silly red men pretending to be you. You guys really need to get your thetan levels checked out.”

“Of all of the prophets,” said the bloody knuckled Christ, “You decided to be one that belongs to a cult?”

“I didn’t decide, and if you think about it, Scientology isn’t a cult. Its the straight up cult. You guys are in the real cult, especially since you can’t see how-”

“Jesus Christ,” said the Jesus who just finished his hot dog, “you need therapy.”

“If you think I need that load of horse shit, then you really must be delusional.” Then the Hubbard turned away, laughing to himself.

“What an asshole!” Said the bloody nosed Jesus. “How could that guy be so smug when he believes in something so obviously made up? Some people.”

“Hm,” said the tall Jesus, “If you were really Christ, then why would you swear.” The Christ who held his nose was about to respond, but the taller one interrupted him, “No, that was rhetorical, don’t answer. Now, its clear that I’m the real Jesus Christ, son of god, and it should be no question that all of you are pitifully delusional. However, if you were delusional enough to believe that you really were Christ, then why wouldn’t you act like me in every way that you could, which also includes not swearing. So-”

“The fuck are you going on about? What sort of.. Wait a minute, if you think you’re the real me, then what are your feelings on all of the different churches?”

“Well, there is only one true church, and that is the Mormon church. I though I cleared things up when I sent Moroni to explain everything to Joseph Smith. Why are you guys giving me those looks? How can you think to be the real me, when you don’t believe in Mormonism?”

“What I want to know,” Said the Jesus who was licking mustard off of his fingers, “Was what you meant about there being multiple Satans, and why all of the sudden we all changed the subject.” Continuing before he could be interrupted, “Because the way everything is looking, to me, the real Jesus Christ, is that you knew that there are multiple devils among us, but you only gave that information away, because you are also a devil, and were trying to draw suspicion away from yourself. But you soon realized that everyone in this group, except for me, the real Mr. Holy, is actually one of your kind, so you decided to change the subject in order to not drop anyone else’s cover.”

“That’s just what the devil would say,” Said the glittery Jesus, “You just want us all to be suspicious of each other, so we fight and we fight, but you really just want to-” The bloody knuckled Jesus knew that he was the true son of the man in the sky, and couldn’t be sure if any of these impostors were actually Satan. So, going with his guy, he decided to strike the glittery Jesus, who started all of this Satan talk in the first place, and was most likely the devil himself. However, he stumbled and telegraphed the attack, allowing the glittery impostor to duck, and the bloody knuckle had ended up striking the mustard stained face of the other impostor, who stumbled backwards and knocked into the nose bleed Jesus, slamming the back of his head into the injured guy, finishing the job of breaking the guy’s nose.

The tall Jesus decided to grab the aggressor, who began to scream, “You can’t do this to me, that man is the real Satan! I’m the real Jesus Christ, I can prove it, I will be crucified, then you’ll all see! You’ll all see!”

“Psh,” said a nearby Mohammad, “You guys have to get crucified and martyred to be worth anything. If you were really chosen by god, then wouldn’t he call you into the after life with something more subtle, like a fever?”

“Ha, afterlife, that’s great,” Said a chain smoking Buddha, “Us truly enlightened believe in reincarnation.”

“The truly enlightened,” said another Buddha, “are able to step off of the cycle of rebirth. Of course, I wouldn’t expect some delusional impostor to be able to reach enlightenment.”

The glittery Jesus was taken with the idea of crucifixion to show that he was the true son of god, and he started to run from the crowd, down the street towards the other areas of town, yelling, “I will prove myself as true, I will get crucified!”

The detained Jesus started to frantically try to break free of the tall man’s grasp, because he was sure that if the impostor crucified himself, then everyone would confuse the devil for their savior, and the world would have to be burned in entirety, for it would become one large Sodom and Gomorrah. Not knowing what else to do, the savior of men threw his head back repeatedly, trying to break the face of his captor, until he was let free, and ran down the street, weaving in and out of the out of town traffic, trying to find the devil and prevent him from martyrdom.

After six minutes of running and searching, it seemed as if he would never find the impostor, the snake in the Garden of Eden, and he decided to take a short break, since he was out of breath. His soul may have been pure and eternal, but his body was still weak and breaking down, which was something he always pitied mortals for. They have to spend so much time in these meat prisons, while their souls are trying to follow the path into his father’s kingdom. After he looked up at the sky, and winked at his father, he noticed a glare from the top of an apartment building, then after a couple seconds of focus he noticed that it was the Evil One. Only two buildings down was a local church, with a large cross on top, and all the devil would have to do would be to jump from rooftop to rooftop, until he was able to reach the cross, climb up it, and nail himself in, causing everyone to somehow believe that he was their immortal savior, instead of some lunatic who nailed himself to a cross.

As the “real” Jesus sprinted towards the apartment complex, he was hoping for a miracle, he was hoping that he would suddenly be able to fly and land on top of the building, but one never came. He wondered how St Peter was allowed to clear all of the snakes out of Ireland, but he couldn’t even get any assistance in trying to stop the devil? It took him a while to climb up the ladder to the top of the complex, and when he reached the top he saw that the impostor was already on the roof of the church, miserably trying to climb up onto the cross, while a small church crowd had gathered below him. The bloody knuckled Jesus and the glittery Jesus both believed that the crow was gathering to watch the proof of the second coming, while they ignored the shouts of:

“What the hell are you doing up there?”

“Get down from there, are you crazy or something?”

“Somebody call the police, this is not going to end well, I do not want to watch him fall!”

“Life is worth living, you don’t have to jump! If you kill yourself to escape from your pain, then you will only be tormented in hell for eternity!”

Knowing that there was still time, the bloody knuckled Jesus made a running start and leaped for the next building, just barely clearing the gap. Then, exhausted from the chase, he looked at the next gap that he had to clear to reach the deceiver, and was dismayed to see that it was a much larger gap, he was too out of shape to make it. Everything pointed to the jump being impossible, but he closed his eyes, and believed that his father was going to save him, was going to carry him over to the roof of the next building, and he was lucky enough to only vaguely be aware that he was falling, that he had missed the gap, only a second or two before he landed head first onto the concrete, smashing his skull open, and snapping his neck into a very unpleasant angle. Nobody saw this, since they were all focused on the man who was climbing the cross with nails in his mouth, and a hammer tucked into the back of his pants, in the same way a felon would try to hide a gun.

When the glittery Jesus finally reached the top, he began to wonder how he was supposed to be able to nail himself on, the way that he had been nailed the last time he had visited Earth, because if he tried to put his back to the cross he would most likely fall off of it. However, even after considering that he should probably crawl down and find an easier way to prove himself, he figured that this was just one of the challenges he would have to face, and he knew that the impostor had been chasing him all the way here, so if he gave up now, he would have to risk the devil taking his place on the cross, or being murdered by the violent son of a bitch. So, he decided to crucify himself as he faced the cross, but struggled to hammer the nail into his own hand, and only when the thin cross started to shake, since it wasn’t meant to deal with the extra weight the man provided, the glittering Christ realized that this task may have just been actually impossible. He only had six seconds to understand this, because it wasn’t to long until the supports of the cross had snapped, and the structure had fallen off of the roof, towards the crowd.

[pocket-size-gay]

Asteri Tale Chapter 25 Orion

I didn’t originally plan to have this included but the idea came to me as I was writing 24. It’s cute and adds more to certain characters’ development.

   Kelly dragged Kid along until they met up with the rest. After Alex and company's plans failed a message was sent out about the decoys.    "Ey! You alright?" Ria ran over to Kid and Kelly. Pella calmly followed behind.    "Ah! And you are?" Kid blinked rapidly as the young girls flitted around him.    "Riiight, we were never formally introduced." Pella bowed her head politely.    "Shit! You're right!" Ria grinned. "I'm Ria, Imani Ria!" she winked.    "Evaline Capella." Pella bowed again.    "Ah-um, how do you know me?" Kid staggered around. "D-do you know them Dunley san?"    "Yes, their Kanamura's sister's friends." Kelly calmly recited the rehearsed response, in order to keep the guardian business from Kid.    "OH!" Kids eyes lit up. "Nice to meet you then!" The sound of a large group filled the air.    "Geez, why do you have to gt in all these fights with Arlin?" Kori chastised Syrus. He groaned and turned to the side. There were new bandages on his hands.    "Please go easy on him Kanamura chan, its been a long day." Skai chuckled to himself and adjusted his glasses.    "Hearing you say 'chan' is so weird, Noriko!" Jem laughed along with Mini.    "Seriously!" Mini gave Skai a sly grin. He averted his eyes and blushed. Anya giggled and looked over the group gathered then to Kelly.    "How's Tamsin doing?"    "Haven't heard. Saveli and Hiroko were with him." Kelly stated bitterly.    "WHAT?! Something happened to Tamsin after we left?!" Kid panicked.    "The injuries were all superficial but there seemed to be some underlying problem no body knows about." Syrus scrolled through the messages on his phone. Kid sank to the ground. "It's not your fault..." Syrus paused and crouched down next to him. "No one knows why Sevan snapped like that."    "Sevan? That quiet guy in the other class?"    "Yeah, he was pretty out of it all day from what I gather..." Anya thought back to gym.    "He lost it when Hiroko mentioned Yuli." Kid pouted harder. "Tamsin and Yuli were fighting when I got there..."    "They are resting at the park near here if you want to check up on them." Skai waved his phone to Kid with a message displayed with one hand and adjusted his glasses with the other. He offered a sympathetic smile. Kid pursed his lips together and reluctantly stood up. They tried to cheer him up as they walked. Gradually Kid opened up to Ria and Pella. As they entered the park, Owen jogged up to them.    "Right this way!~" he urged in a cheerful tone. Kid stared at yet another unfamiliar face and wandered over tot he shaded bench where Aren and Sal sat. Dread washed over Kid's face.    "T-T-Tamsin!" Kid reached out to touch the bandages on his cheek.    "S-st-stop!" Sal reflexively slapped away Kid's hand. His breathing was still labored. "S-sorry..." Kid unsure of what to do with them, waved his hands around frantically and backed away.    "Did you take care of them Owen?" Pella tugged at his sleeve.    "Obviously." Owen gave a bright grin. "Hiroko helped of course!~"    "Oh?..." Kelly looked around. "Where is she now?"    "She went to get us water." Aren lounged back, propping his elbows on the back of the bench. Owen turned his attention to Kid.    "So, I gotta ask," he paused. Kid looked up terrified. "What were you doing down town? That's not a place for your kind." Owen pushed Kid's chin up with his finger.    "Oh...uh, Murasa took me on a date! We went to this quaint little cafe, the food was really tasty!" all the negative emotions melted away, as Kid recounted his supposed 'date'. The group gawked in disbelief.    "D-date? Uh, Sharpe...that wasn't a date, he was trying to KIDNAP you!" Aren grumbled. Skai face palmed. Various others giggled.    "But, but! He treated me and we talked! He's really nice and super funny!" Kid whined.    "That guy probably doesn't even know the meaning of a 'sense of humor'!" Jem sneered.    "No...that actually sounds about right for him." Syrus confessed contritely.    "Uh huh!" Kori nodded along. Everyone, including Sal looked to Syrus in awe.    "Seriously? We are talking about the same 'Murasa Alex' right?" Skai asked for clarification and adjusted his glasses.    "SEE! He's great!" Kid cheered. "You should try to get along better with him."    "What's so great about that haughty asshole?" Mini struggled to contain her distaste for Alex.    "He's always so nice to me." Kid pouted."If only you'd give him a chance!"    "The feeling would have to be mutual, Sharpe san." Kelly shrugged. "He has no desire to get close to others at all."    "You all aren't trying hard enough." Kid crossed his arms and turned away. "He's like an angel, he even fell from the sky!"    "A-angel?" Anya chuckled, "Sure..."    "He did, it was so cool!" Kid insisted.    "He fell off the roof; that isn't cool, its lame." Sal mocked.    "See...this is why he doesn't like you!" Kid frowned.    "I keep telling you his problem is with me, you all have no reason to hate him so much." Syrus sighed. Mira timidly approached from behind, listening to them bicker.    "And who's fault is that?!" Kori glowered at her brother.    "Mine! I know already..." Syrus bared his fangs. "I had no idea things would end up like this though!"    "What did you do?" Kelly poked Syrus on the arm.    "I-it doesn't matter now...and I wasn't the only one, either." Syrus huffed.    "But you were the worst!" Kori growled. "It was totally uncalled for."    "W-wat-" Mira tried to push her way through.    "Heh, you're always like this Kanamura chan!" Ria laughed.    "Reminds me of my brothers." Pella giggled.    "Totally see it too! Lance is always causing trouble!" Owen snickered.    "I b-brought th-" Mira stood on her tiptoes trying to make her way in.    "Oh, I never got your name!" Kid went to Owen.    "Is that so?" he perked up. "I'm Syvzanna Owen, the little Miss's caretaker." he pointed to Pella.    "Fancy way to say 'babysitter'." Aren jeered.    "Ack..you!" Owen jokingly glared at Aren.    "You should be thanking me for taking care of you so excellently!" He grabbed Aren's cheeks and tugged them.    "Mmrah shtawp et!" Aren whined.    "Quit being weird Owen." Pella sighed. Mira furrowed her eyebrows and took a deep breath.    "You guys sure are friendly with each other!" Kid giggled. "That's so nice."    "I BROUGHT THE DAMN WATER!" Mira shouted at the top of her lungs. The massive crowd all jumped and turned to the petite girl in silence. "How do you feel Tamsin?"    "F-fine...thanks..." Sal put his hands to the sides of his head. She stepped forward and offered a bottle to Aren, then to Sal. Aren took it and chugged half of it in one gulp. Sal looked up to Mira skittishly. His breathing had calmed down. He reached out to grab the spare, his hands shaking. He tried to drink it but couldn't keep his hands steady. Aren got up and let Mira sit next to Sal, to help him. Aren shuffled over to Kid.    "How you doing?" he lightly patted Kid's shoulder.    "I...uh, okay!" Kid answered pensively. "What about you?"    "Starting to get used to this, sadly..." Aren rubbed his abdomen shamefully. "Must have been a lot to take in all at once."    "Why can't everyone get along?" Kid sulked. "Murasa's really not that bad." Aren grimaced. Jem put her hands on her hips.    "What's so great about such a vain ass like him?!"she interrupted. Kid gasped. "You should forget about him and play with me!" Jem grabbed him by the arm and dragged him off. Syrus watched as she pulled him out into the park with a subtle smirk, before walking over to Mira and Sal, who were talking about the fight.    "Uh..h-how..did you do that?" Sal eyed her skeptically.    "Do what?" Mira pursed her lips unsure of what he meant.    "M-my asth-eh?" he started timidly when he noticed Syrus. "You here to laugh at me?"    "No...what do you think about it?" Syrus's red eyes peered deep into Sal's. Sal turned away.    "I don't know, its why I asked!" he snapped.    "Hiroko, do you know what your power is?" Syrus shifted his serious gaze to Mira.    "N-no?" she tensed up.    "Do you get hurt often?" Syrus asked and observed her reactions.    "N-not really?" she answered quizzically, "Why?"    "How long does it normally take your injuries to heal?" his eyes trailed down to his arms, covered by his jacket sleeves.    "Not very...I think?" she cocked her head to the side. Syrus smiled and rolled up one of his sleeves, revealing bandages covering his arm. "Oh my go-"    "It wasn't from the fight earlier, just testing something." Syrus pulled the bandages on his hand loose exposing wounds along his palm and the back of his wrist. Sal's eyes shot open. Mira's face went pale. Syrus put a finger to his lips to shush them then grabbed Mira's hand to place it on his injuries. The wound receded from where her fingers touched him. Reflexively, Mira pulled her hand back, a thin layer of blood coated the tips of her fingers.    "WOAH!" Mira looked to her hands then to Syrus's arm.    "You have healing powers, like i thought..." Syrus readjusted the bandages around his hand.    "W-wait! Th-then I should-!" Mira panicked.    "Its fine." Syrus sighed dismissively.    "There's no way Akseli is responsible for all that." Sal uttered, thinking back to Tuesday, when he caught a glimpse of bandages under the blazer Syrus wore.    "Hush, everyone here has things they'd rather not speak about, even you." Syrus shot Sal a cold look. Sal retreated back then turned toward Mira.    "Well, th-thanks. Now I won't have to hear it from my brother for leaving 'that' at home..." he gave a timid smile and bowed his head.    "What? N-no..its no problem at all!" Mira jumped up and backed away. "My transformation isn't meant for combat, at least this way I can be of some use to everyone!"    "Don't say that!" Syrus barked. "If you hadn't been there things could have ended much worse than they did."    "I-I didn't do much...except piss off Sevan." Mira sulked.    "Heh...you helped more than me." Sal chided himself. "If Murasa hadn't been there to clean up, things would have turned out worse..."    "A-Alex did?" Syrus gasped in surprise.    "He protected Sharpe..." Sal glanced over to Kid. Him and the twins were playing around on the slide. Kid perked up when he noticed Sal watching him.    "That's...something he would do..." Syrus thought out loud. Sal sunk in the bench. Kid leapt off and dashed over.    "It would have been better were I not involved." Sal sighed. "I didn't contribute anything, it was all Saveli out there."    "What! No, don't say that!" Kid pouted. Sal jumped at the expected declaration.    "But its the truth." Sal objected.    "Mmm." Kid groaned and grabbed Sal by the arms. The usual color returned to Sal's face. He stared at Kid in awe as his fatigue dissipated. Syrus shot Sal an inquisitive glance. Sal shook off his uneasy expression and returned a smile to Kid.    "A-as long as everyone is ok, right?" at this Kid beamed brightly. Syrus continued to watch Sal skeptically as Kid dragged him and Mira off to the others in the park. On Kids urging, the rest of the group joined in. After an hour or so passed, everyone gradually went in their separate ways home. Skai's mother picked up Kid and Skai in her car.    "That was so fun!" Kid cheered in the back seat. Skai shifted his gaze away and let out a breathy laugh then adjusted his glasses.    "That's good, dear." Skai's mother chimed in. "That's an amazing gift you have."    "G-gift?" Kid stiffened up in his confusion.    "You're able to gather all different kinds of people around you with ease, I have to thank you for that." she glanced at the boys in the rear view mirror.    "Mom..." Skai scoffed. Kid looked back and forth between them.    "Because he met you, my son's made so many new friends."    "Oh! Haha!" Kid laughed bashfully. "I wish Arata could have been there!" he whined, changing the subject.    "They had things they needed to attend to at home." Skai forced out an excuse and adjusted his glasses. He had almost forgotten the events that transpired earlier in the day.    "I know!" Kid groaned. "Still sucks..." he sulked in his seat. Skai couldn't help but grin at his friend's innocence. "Oh! and Murasa too! I'm sure everyone would like him too if they could get to know him!" Kid eyed Skai expectantly.    "S-sure..." Skai didn't feel like arguing in front of his mother so he agreed and adjusted his glasses. "Not like he beat up your friends or tried to kidnap you or anything..." Once they arrived at Skai's house, they settled in for their sleepover as his mother prepared diner. After eating the day drew to a close.    In the morning, Kid and Skai met up with the group in the plaza. Kid regaled his 'date' with Alex to Tori and Sai. Tori laughed nervously as Kid talked. Sai just snickered to herself. Kid jumped up once he spotted Alex, who happened to be passing by.    "HEEEY, Murasa san!" Kid waved frantically. Alex flinched and stopped walking. "Come heeeere!" Kid beckoned him over. Alex rolled his eyes and reluctantly headed over.    "What is it?" he put his hands on his hips and sighed. Everyone watched with unease.    "Thanks for yesterday, I had a lot of fun on our date!" Kid smiled back. Alex gasped and jumped back, his entire face flushed red. The twins suppresed giggles and Anya chocked on her drink.    "Th-that w-wasn't a d-d-date!" Alex shrieked and ran off.    "Ah..." Kid stared into the space Alex had occupied, gradually growing depressed. Jem and Mini burst out laughing.    "WHAT WAS THAT?" Aren howled laughter. Sal snickered along.    "I never imagined he could make such a face..." Kelly uttered bewildered at everything.    "Sh-Sharpe?" Syrus questioned hesitantly, "Do you even like him enough to want that to have been a date?" Skai and Jem looked up, waiting for the answer.    "Ah...um...w-well, I like girls...so, no" Kid slowly came to the realization of the implications of his excitement, "But that expression was pretty cute."    "...whatever floats your boat, I guess." Sal huffed. Kid frowned while others acted with distaste about Alex. "Why won't people just get along with each other?" Kid pouted as they waited for their lunch orders to arrive.