#watching the happy faces exclusively then peeking at her expression is really a hit to my heart

[pressuredrightnow]

god NOMTW really hits so GOOD. its a time for celebration! munchkins are so pumped look at those happy faces

absolute exhilaration, celebration all around

and then theres glinda

the stark contrast of her expression against the people is really UGH. just so good.

also

ALSO

the one moment she truly smiled was when she can reminisce her time with elphaba.

[stargazer-balladeer]

Random Imagines [Genshin Impact - girls]

[ boy edition ]

- qiqi’s, klee’s & diona’s are all platonic

nervously shifting her legs on the ground, amber shyly presents you a plushie version of yourself that looks similar to the design of baron bunny. she bit her lower lip in pure nervousness as she imagines worst-case scenarios if you didn’t like it. gulping mentally, she nervously smiles as she takes a peek of your expression before looking down again. “happy anniversary.” she quietly said, hoping to herself that you’ll like the gift and that her mind finally calms down.

ayaka smiles as she takes a sip of her tea right outside her house with her beloved by her side, the sakura tree’s petals fluttering around them wonderfully, making the atmosphere more romantic. it's been a while since she last spent her time with you, so she makes sure that it’s spent with zero interruptions. turning to you as she started the conversation with a sweet, serene smile on her face. listening to you starting to ramble on about a topic that interests you, with a look of admiration present in her face.

feeling thankful that you saved her from the crowd of fans, barbara guided you to a secluded area where she often visited to have peace and quiet. she lets you rest your head on her lap as she softly hums a tune, which slowly switches to an actual song. a concert exclusively for her biggest fan with no worries of being judged. smiling if you join in on her singing, even if your voice isn’t as good as hers, she considers your voice divine like the anemo archon.

laughing lightly as she noticed her significant other getting tipsy after drinking a bottle, beidou stood up and announced that she and her lover would be going back to the quarters early. as the celebration continued behind her, she carefully picked you up bridal style and brought you to her quarters. her eyes widened when you started to ramble how much you love her before letting out a small smile and ruffling your hair, minding her own flushed cheeks. 

diona hisses at the stranger who was obviously taking advantage of your kindness while screaming how disgraceful they are for trying to use you. wanting to teach them a lesson, she takes a step forward but you stopped her with a reassuring smile. huffing but obliging to your wishes, she only glared at the stranger, mentally memorizing their faces so that when they visit the bar, she would ask the traveler to mix up a horrible drink. after all, no one messes with you and gets away from it. 

her eyes widened as she saw how you got hit from the active ruin guard, with eyes full of vengeance, eula gracefully yet deadly strike it on the core, effectively making it inactive once more. quickly rushing to your side as she eyed the obvious injury that the ruin guard caused, she cursed to herself for letting it happen. she quickly tended your wounds as she said her usual line of vengeance will be mine while coaxing you to not fall asleep. 

fischl excitedly retells the stories she loved to you while being held by you in the bed after a tough day full of commissions. her prinzessin persona dropped completely as she started from the very beginning while playing with your hands. a soft smile present on her face, happy to share something she loved to you, her significant other. 

embarrassed at your request, ganyu shyly looks away while looking down, fully presenting you her horns. a pink dust appeared on her cheeks when she felt your hand softly yet carefully trace the design of her horns. the warmth of your hands against her horns made her at peace as the initial embarrassment went away, replacing it with comfort and tranquility.

smiling mischievously as her eyes landed on your unsuspecting figure, hu tao carefully and quietly navigate herself to you. she tries to conceal her excited giggles behind her hand as she crept up behind you. she stayed there for a while before quickly wrapping her hands around your waist and shouting “boo!” in your ear while giggling madly.

waking up at the sound of the birds chirping, jean slowly opens her eyes as she yawns. she blinked a couple of times to get the sleepiness out, once her vision was clear, her eyes quickly landed on your still-sleeping figure. she smiles as she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, softly calling your name in hopes to wake you up. hearing you groan in protest, she pressed a quick kiss on your lips, promising to give you more if you wake up right now.

keqing huffing as she loudly makes her side of the argument, her face almost turning red due to the anger she’s feeling. she knew she was right, so why were you insisting you were the one right and she was in the wrong? not wanting to back out from the argument, she accidentally says something she regrets. after the adrenaline of the argument evaporates from her veins, she quickly realizes what she said as she quickly pulls you into a hug while quietly apologizing.

whilst keeping her company while in solitary confinement, klee happily hums a tune she heard from barbara as she draws on a piece of paper you gave her along with some crayons. patting her head while she does her task, she looks up to you expectantly with her huge doe eyes, showing you what she drew. guessing from the color schemes of the two figures, you figured it was you and klee. happily praising her with her drawing, she excitedly grins at you. 

the fatui agent screamed in terror as a cryo attack hit him, hitting him square on the chest. shouting profanities, he looks at who attacked him to give them a piece of his mind only to fear his own life. standing right behind you, in all her glory, was la signora, otherwise known as your lover. she clicks her tongue, staring at the agent with judgement, before turning her attention to you. cooing sweetly at you as she checks for any possible injuries before telling you to stay in her quarters as she deals with a pest. 

lisa blinkes in surprise at the scenery before her, the library now deserted from people is decorated with a festive decoration. the table she used to have her tea time with is filled with food, from cakes to cookies, it even has her favorite tea among it. the scent of her favorite filled her nostrils as her eyes landed back on your figure, who was fidgeting from nervousness. laughing softly when asked if she likes it, she coos at you and brings you into a hug. you really are adorable, too much for her heart. 

her eyes widened when the door leading to her room opened, lumine looked up to see you in the doorway, the light from the outside pouring in the dark room. she looks away while blinking away the tears gathered in her eyes, why did you have to see her like this? hearing the soft thud of a closing door, she felt the bed shifted and warm arms wrapping around her. your hot breath in her eyes as you whisper comforting words in her ears. deciding to finally drop her guard down, she clings to you and starts bawling. why did her brother leave her once again?

surprised at your question of your future, mona coughs in her fist as she decides to fulfill your curiosity, also with a promise of giving her mora even though she declined it at first. she let the chart of the astrology signs appear before her and started doing her fortune-telling stuff. seeing her nod as she stares at the constellation of what appears to be yours, you noticed that her face bursted into red. worried for her, you asked her what’s wrong and she could barely put out a coherent word from her mouth. she huffed as she looks away, hiding you from her view via her hat, her mind racing at the image of you settling down with her. 

ningguang confronts you one day about your distant behavior with her, her eyes scanning your body, picking up your nervous tics along the way. she tilts her head as she looks at you with expecting eyes, even though her face remains stoic, her eyes are practically pleading for you to tell her what happened, did she do something wrong? sighing at your explanation, she stood up from her chair and made her way to you. pulling you into a chaste kiss, she smiled at you, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

gently waking you up from your nap, the face of a worried noelle appeared after you opened your eyes. smiling gently at you while stating that she finished preparing the soup and medicine and it’s time to eat. she frowned when you told her you don’t want to eat, to which she responded “you won’t get better if you won’t.” deciding the best option is to feed you, she scoop up a spoonful of soup and encourage you softly to open your mouth. her eyes lit up when you complied with her wish. after feeding you and making you drink the medicine, she changed your wet towel on your head and gave it a kiss, hoping to barbatos that you’ll get better soon. 

qiqi looks up at you expectantly while raising her arms up, asking for you to carry her. because you can’t physically or mentally decline a sweet child like her, you lifted her up like she wanted and adjusted your hold on her so that she wouldn't fall off. wrapping her arms around you and smiling happily, you continued to traverse liyue harbor while carrying her.

watching you in amusement as you struggled to try to get a kiss from her, rosaria chuckled when even if you were standing on your toes, you still couldn’t reach her. seeing you pout at her, she gave your cheek a pinch while cooing at you. after having a deal with you, a kiss in exchange for a wine in the tavern, she gave you your desired kiss after rolling her eyes at your expecting face.  

while looking through her notes, sucrose heard you hum while doing your daily house chores. looking up to peek at where you stood, washing the dishes while swaying slightly and humming a tune. she smiles as her focus soon shifts to listening to you humming instead of focusing on her notes. noticing that the shy girl was looking at you, the said-girl let out a tiny shriek and quickly looked down to her notes. chuckling at her adorable action, you continued to wash the dishes as she went back to her notes. 

xiangling blushed profusely at the sight of you holding out a bouquet of flowers with a bag of jueyun chili on your other hand. she covered her face with her hands, incoherent words leaving her mouth as she tried to process what she’s seeing. you must’ve flustered her too much. chuckling at her reaction, you set down the bag and the bouquet at a table and wrapped your arms around her, patting her head to calm her down. 

excitedly yet nervously strumming her guitar in front of you, xinyan took a deep breath before starting to strum her guitar for real and began singing her heart out. she hopes you’ll like the song she composed, exclusively for you. the one and only fan she has that endlessly supported her through her rockstar career. she smiles at you brightly as she continues to sing, bobbing her head up and down. this is who she is, and she’s glad she found someone like you. 

feeling someone’s disappointing gaze on you, you look up to meet yanfei’s gaze with a frown plastered on her face. drunkenly greeting her, she shakes her head as she exclaimed she’ll be bringing you home now. it was a bit difficult as you kept wanting to wander off but she somehow managed to bring you home in one piece. plopping you down on your couch, she sighs as she mumbles that she became your babysitter and quickly fetches you some water. after some difficult time once again to make you drink water and the ending being successful, she stares at your sleeping face before letting out a sigh once again. why do you keep choosing someone else when she was right here by your side the entire time? 

[flooffybits]

Here For You

Idol: Kim Jungeun, Kim Jiwoo (Loona)

Warning: mentions of physical and verbal abuse, homophobia

Author's note: I accidentally posted this and, in my panic, deleted it without copying the ask, so I apologize.

☕buy me a coffee☕

"Kim Lip, over there!" Looking over to where her girlfriend was pointing, the said girl squinted her eyes as she tried to look for what the latter had seen.

Jiwoo had spotted you just as they passed the window, seeing as you picked a table that was noticeable from outside. When they stepped inside the little restaurant they invited you to, she began to look in the direction her girlfriend was pointing at.

But before she could find you, herself, Jiwoo was already bouncing over to where you were sitting. And due to her calling out your name, you were quick to see the pair and flashed them a smile, giggling when you stood to greet Jiwoo with a hug.

“Y/n! I missed you!” She squeals in your ear, making you laugh when you pat her back and then pull away. “I missed you, too. Sorry I couldn’t meet you sooner.” Jungeun stopped next to Jiwoo and smiled at you when she went for a hug as well. “It’s nothing to apologize for.” She assures you. “We’ve barely even got free time, so having to delay a hangout is understandable.” She adds and you all take a seat.

“Oh, yeah. How are things with you and the girls? I saw you performed at the Soribada.” You comment. “Congratulations, by the way.”

"It was nice. A bit hectic since the audience was very limited and there were a few that snuck in to watch." Jungeun explained with a slight laugh. "There were some fansites of ours that had to be kicked out." Jiwoo pouted and you smiled affectionately at how much she really loved her fans.

"Well, when it comes to meeting their favorites, it's really no surprise that they go through such great lengths to see you." Your words made both their hearts flutter and they had to restrain themselves from saying anything because they were afraid of making things weird between you.

You just made it so hard when you spoke so passionately. Everyone could see the spark in your eyes whenever you spoke about the things you loved or things that peeked your interest. It was just so endearing and it was one of the reasons people were so attracted to you. Your friendly and kind nature drew people to you and made you such a loveable person.

"I think that applies to everyone, don't you think?" Jiwoo's smile is much softer as she looks at you, unlike her usual excited smile when she's jumping around and throwing hearts at people.

You hum softly, resting your chin against your hand and cocking your head to the side. "That's true. But sometimes the simple things are worth more than the grand gestures." You tell them and Jungeun nods her head in agreement. "I think that's what people forget these days. Wanting to do all of these things is nice, but if it's going to put them in danger, I'd rather they watch us from the safety of their own homes." She says with a bit of a grimace.

"What about you, two? What have you been up to?" The pair look to each other, smiling and then turning back to you. “There’s nothing much, but we did go on a date after the award show. Since things have been a bit hectic, we thought a little breather was the best option.” Junguen explained while she took the other girl’s hand in her own and gave it a squeeze.

You giggle at your friends while nodding your head. “If you guys wanted alone time, you could have said so, silly. We could have rescheduled our hangout, I know you have a lot on your plate.” You tell them before Jiwoo pouts at you. “But we wanted to see you! Lippie and I are with each other all the time but it’s so rare to get an off day to see you.” She explains while she subconsciously reached for your hand from across the table.

There’s something else shining in her eyes that you don’t quite understand, but she smiles at you in the same manner she usually does before pulling away. “Trust us, we’re more than happy to spend time with you.”

“And speaking of you, how are things with Hansuk?” Jungeun asked curiously while you showed her a grin and clapped your hands. “Oh! We’ve been doing great. He’s been really sweet, waking me up every time because he made breakfast, saying he wants to at least spend the morning with me before he goes to work.” You explain, pausing when a waiter came by to take your orders.

You had quickly given them what you recall to be the girls’ favorites, looking to them briefly for confirmation since you were all so caught up in conversation to check at the menu, and Jungeun had nodded whilst Jiwoo looked absolutely love struck when you turned back to the waiter to tell him your own choice before he went off.

“You guys look like you’re doing really well.” Jungeun said softly while you blinked in confusion. “What?” Jiwoo giggled at your expression before clarifying. “We were talking about you and your boyfriend, remember? Jeez, Y/n, you’re so forgetful sometimes.” She jokes while you pout. “Hey, I remembered your favorites, didn’t I?”

And that was a fact that made butterflies erupt in their stomachs.

"Well, I guess that's true." Jiwoo giggles while resting her chin against her hand. "I have to make sure my girls are well. Of course, I'd remember what you like, not just your food." Junguen reached over to lightly hit your shoulder despite the blush that was creeping up her neck when she laughed. “Why are you so cheesy?” She asked to mask her embarrassment and you burst out laughing too, the sound ringing beautifully in the pair’s ears.

It never failed to bring a smile on their faces to see you so happy.

"Okay, okay. We get it, you love us." Jiwoo giggled at you and you smiled brightly while nodding your head in approval. "Obviously, I do."

But despite that, they wished that you meant it more than what you actually did.

Because even though they were already dating each other, they would be lying if they said that they didn't feel for you what they felt with each other. Being friends for years, the affections only increased and the fondness developed into something that was far beyond friendship.

The moment they had agreed to become idols was also the moment they had decided to confess to each other how they felt, and it was fine for a while, until they had seen you for your graduation.

Seeing you again made all the memories you three had together come crashing down and they're reminded that their feelings were not exclusively for each other.

After graduation, they saw you quite often. It may not have been daily, but they saw you every week when they had the time. They were lucky enough when it was twice a week. But when you inform them that you started dating one of your other friends from high school, they were a bit disheartened to see you because of how often you spoke about the boy.

“Hey?” You called out, a confused look on your face though a smile still stayed. “Is there something on my face? You’re both staring.” You say with an embarrassed chuckle and covering your face with your hands. “Hey, no! There’s nothing on your face.” Jiwoo giggled despite her embarrassment of getting caught staring and Jungeun merely reached forward to pry your hands from your face. “Stop it, you look perfect… ly fine. So don’t worry, okay?” She had to quickly add the latter part of her statement just to cover up what she wanted to say and then flashed an awkward smile.

You ended up blinking at them and then your eyes fell to your joined hands. You had to slowly pull away with a crooked grin and then nodding your head, unaware of the hurt that crossed the latter’s face.

Luckily, your food arrived in time to push away the awkward air and you hummed in delight. “Oh, right. We’ll be sort of busy with preparing for the comeback next week, so I’m not sure we can see you.” Jiwoo explained apologetically before she saw the saddened look in your eyes.

Even when you had shown them a reassuring smile, it was clear that not being able to see either of them was sad news for you. And upon seeing that, they were quick to try and cheer you up.

“It’s not going to be that long. There are going to be days we’ll drop by and hangout.” Jungeun quickly states. “Yeah, and while we’re gone, you and Hansuk are able to see each other often, right?”

You pause for a while before Jiwoo notices the forced smile on your face when you nod your head.

“Yeah, we will.”

..

Right after practice, the girls were scattered around the practice room with the majority of them laying on the floor just so they could rest their legs while others were getting their things ready and still filled with energy.

“Kim Lip, get your girlfriend. I’m too tired for this.” Sooyoung groaned as she draped a face towel over her face just to prove her point and the hyper girl next to her laughed while shaking her arm in an attempt to piss her off. “Come on! We’re going home, anyway.” She claims, making the latter grunt and her girlfriend to laugh.

Jungeun got up from her place and walked over to extract her girlfriend from her best friend and handed her a water bottle. “Come on. I think you’ll want to do something else other than annoy Yves.” She stated, catching the other’s attention. “What?”

Showing her phone, your conversation was pulled up and Jiwoo scanned the most recent ones before her whole face lit up in delight. “Are we going to see her?” She squeals at the nod Jungeun gives her before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and then jumping over to her things and preparing while Sooyoung peeked from under the towel.

“Oh, thank god.” She muttered while sitting up. “I love Chuu and everything, but I don’t think I love her enough to get myself deaf.” She stated jokingly and Jungeun chuckled when she helped the latter to her feet. “It’s part of her charm.”

“You’re both loud. I can only pray for Y/n since she’s the quiet one out of you three.” That earned her a smack on the arm. “Yah!” But she only raised her arms in defense. “Thus proving my point.” She laughed and Jungeun barraged her arm with punches, though not hard enough to hurt her friend.

Off to the side, Jiwoo happily hoisted her bag on her shoulder. “Y/n, Y/n, I wonder if she ate already.” She glanced at the time and gasped. “We should get some snacks, just in case.” From beside her, Yerim grinned at the familiar name. “You’re going to visit unnie?” She questioned and the older girl nodded enthusiastically. “Kim Lip asked her if she was home, so we’re going to surprise her.”

“Can you give this to unnie? Last time, she gave us food so I wanted to give her something in return.” Yeojin produced a bead ring from her bag and Jiwoo smiled while taking the small gift. “I’m sure she’ll love it.” She beams before looking to find her girlfriend wrestling with her leader.

Laughing, she walked over, grabbing Jungeun’s bag in the process before pulling her off Sooyoung. “Come on! I want to see Y/n already!” She announces, and Jungeun huffs before taking her bag and nodding her head. “Let me just tell Haseul unnie and then we can go.”

It wasn’t really that much of an issue for them to visit since you would only stay indoors, plus your place wasn’t that far away from the dorms. So after informing Haseul and saying goodbye to everyone, the pair set off to see you, stopping by a cafe to buy some food like Jiwoo said earlier.

By the time they arrived at your front door, Jungeun was holding the paper bags filled with snacks and then Jiwoo was fishing for the key you had given them in the event that they wanted to drop by, much like today.

There was a thud from behind the door and the pair looked at each other just as Jiwoo pushed it open. Peeking inside, they called out. “Y/n? You alright?” Jiwoo asked as she looked around, kicking her shoes off, followed by the latter.

Of course, they weren’t too sure what they would be walking into when they arrived at your place, but they were very sure seeing your boyfriend towering over you, arm raised in what looked like he was ready to hit your cowering form, was not one of them.

Dropping the bags, Jungeun sprinted over to shove the male off of you whilst Jiwoo hurried to your side, pulling you away from your stunned boyfriend and furious best friend. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jungeun yelled angrily as Jiwoo looked you over, her heart sinking when she saw the small bruises on your jaw and neck.

By the looks of it, there was more that trailed down under your shirt, and it made her heart hurt to see you looking so damaged like this. “What did he do?” She asked softly and you curled up in her arms while Jungeun refused to let the male near you.

“I can have you sued for trespassing, you know that?” Your boyfriend yelled but if his intentions were to scare your friends off, then that was not working at all with the way Jungeun’s glare intensified. “This isn’t your place, and we have keys, dumbass.”

Glancing over her shoulder, the girl felt her anger flare up when she saw Jiwoo cradling you as you quietly sobbed into her shoulder. Her eyes were back on the male before she’s lifting her phone up. “I’m giving you one chance. Get out, now, or you’re going to end up in court.” And unlike Hansuk’s pitiful threat, it was clear that she was not bluffing as she had a number already on display.

“S-Screw this.” Clicking his tongue, Hansuk left almost immediately like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs, knowing that he was no match for an idol with a company to back them up. And though you were just friends with them, it was very clear that they would help you put him in jail, and he could not have that.

Right after he left, Jungeun spun around and dropped to her knees so she could get a good look at you while Jiwoo did her best to calm you down. Her fingers continued with brushing your hair while she kept your head against her shoulder, whispering sweet nothings to soothe your nerves.

Jungeun cupped your cheek and gently, her thumb grazed over one of the newer looking bruises. She held her breath as she looked to see if she was hurting you but relaxed when you looked at her. Your teary eyes made her heart ache and Jiwoo let out a sigh.

“Can you get some ice?” She asked quietly, making the blonde nod before she’s off to the kitchen to grab an ice pack, passing the bathroom so she could grab the first aid kit as well just in case there were more than just bruises on you.

Meanwhile, Jiwoo, who was usually the bright and happy girl you knew, was frowning when she cupped your face to get another look at you. “How long has he been doing this?” She questions and you struggle on deciding whether or not it was a good idea to lie to her or not.

But this was Jiwoo and Jungeun. There was no way you could lie to them. At least not again.

“Two months ago?” You mutter, not entirely sure when the dynamic of your relationship had changed. “He came home from work. He was with his friends without telling me and I was just worried but he got upset and then…” Your lower lip trembled at the memory and thankfully, Jiwoo didn’t push any further as she just tightened her arms around you and nodded her head.

For two months, you were battling this on your own? Why didn’t you tell either her or Jungeun?

Knowing that you were along in this caused her hold on you to tighten before she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re going to be fine.” She whispered before Jungeun joined you, handing the ice pack to her girlfriend and then looking at you with her lips pressed together.

“Can I look?” She asked while gesturing to your shirt and Jiwoo pressed the ice to your jaw, causing you to flinch. You bite your lip before looking down because of the question and Jungeun reaches forward to touch your face, stopping you as she runs her thumb over your bottom lip while staring into your eyes. “Don’t do that.” She tells you. “I don’t want you to get even more hurt than you already are.”

The action and the way she speaks so softly makes your heart flutter and you do your best to hide the way she’s affecting you, but Jiwoo makes it worse when she presses her cheek to your head and her other hand moves from your hair to the small of your back. “We need to check if you have any other injuries.” She murmurs and you make a small sound before reluctantly pulling away to lift your shirt.

“Promise me you won’t freak out.” The sentence alone makes them want to protest, but the pleading look in your eyes causes their mouths to shut and they nod before you finally lift your shirt to reveal the various bruises left on your skin.

And even when the obvious hand prints stared right back at them, Jiwoo was able to keep herself from saying anything as she just held you closer when her girlfriend began to apply some ointment on the bruises, double checking for any scratches.

“Why did he do this?” Jiwoo couldn’t help but ask you and you swallowed thickly while playing with your fingers. “He was… he was starting to suspect you two.” You mumbled and they could feel the nervousness radiating off you when you avoided looking at either of them. “He was telling me how I shouldn’t hang around you guys so much, and that it didn’t even matter since you had your idol careers.”

Remembering his words caused tears to spring into your eyes again. Every ounce of anger and hatred that laced his voice whenever he talked about the two, etched in your mind. He hated it that you defended them and that you would not hesitate to pick them over him, but he always managed to string you back into his clutches.

“One day, he asked me, you’re not like that, are you?” You let out a shuddering breath. “You’re not one of those. He talked about you like… like you weren’t a person, and I just-”

A sob forced itself past your lips and Jungeun put everything back in the kit before she took your hands in her own while Jiwoo continued to rub your back.

“Y/n, listen to me. Whatever he said, it isn’t true.” Jiwoo says firmly. “Just because he can’t accept us does not make you invalid. You don’t need him.” Jungeun adds when she reaches to wipe away your tears. “You can be who you are and love whoever you want. All that matters is you’re happy and safe.”

You let their words sink in and suck in a deep breath, your heart hammering against your chest. "What if… what if the person I liked was already with someone else? And the only reason I was with Hansuk to get over them?"

Jungeun isn't sure how to feel with the revelation. She's upset, yes, because if you didn't really love Hansuk, why did you force yourself into a relationship with him for this long? Why didn't you just tell them the truth? Was there something she was missing?

Jiwoo, on the other hand, was quick to speak as she brushed your hair from your face after setting the ice pack aside. "It's okay. Sometimes we make these decisions that we think will help us. You were hurting so it was understandable that you needed something to distract you from the pain.” She murmured softly while kissing your temple. Even if she was curious as to what it was you weren’t telling them, she needed to make sure that you were okay first before anything else.

Your eyes shift from Jungeun to Jiwoo before they fall down to your own hands, seeing as Jungeun kept her own atop of them, squeezing when she could see that you were thinking about something, afraid to tell them what exactly it was.

“Y/n, it’s okay. Whatever it is you want to say, we’ll listen. We aren’t going to hurt you.” She assured and you nod your head, knowing full well that it was the truth. It was just your own fear and insecurity that was pulling you back.

“I like you.” With a quick breath, you shake your head. “Both of you. And I know it’s weird and crazy, but I just didn’t know what to do. You’re my best friends but you’re together and idols, on top of that so I know that neither of you would see me the same way.” Due to your rambling, you failed to see the way the two look at each other and only looked up when Jungeun joined in to wrap her arms around you.

“Oh, Y/n.” You felt so small being in their arms, but it did give you the sense of security that you needed after Hansuk’s violent episode earlier. “You have no idea how much we wanted to hear you say that.” Jungeun chuckled when she cupped your face, causing your mouth to snap shut.

They what?

The way your eyes widened and how your mouth opened and closed to try and say something made the two of them giggle. Jiwoo had to close your mouth for you before poking your nose. “Believe it or not, Kim Lip and I were a little butt hurt when you told us you were dating Hansuk.” She tells you before earning a smack from her girlfriend. “Why would you say that?”

“Sorry!”

Sighing, Jungeun then looked at you with a small smile. “Look, we aren’t trying to push anything but we wanted you to know that Chuu and I have been talking about you for a while now. We weren’t sure how you would react, so we never brought it up.” She explained. “But then Hansuk came along and we really thought you liked him, so we backed off.” Jiwoo played with the hem of your shirt from behind. “Had we known, we would have said something sooner and we could have kept you from getting hurt.”

The reminder of you being injured made the pair frown but you were quick to shake your head and offered them a smile, taking both of their hands in your own and squeezing them. “It’s okay, he’s gone.”

“And we aren’t going anywhere.”

[alj4890]

Misfortune's Intentions

(Liam x OC*Elisse Millan) (Drake x Riley) in a Choices The Royal Heir fan fiction

A/N We've jumped ahead in this chapter by nearly a month. Liam is returning home after the road trip and Walker family visit for Savannah's wedding. He now has to figure out how to keep moving on now that Drake and Riley are pregnant. Amalas makes a decision that keeps Elisse right where she wants her to be.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie

Masterlist

Chapter 2 Confirmation

Liam gave orders to the staff to take his bags upstairs on the way to his study.

The past few weeks spent exclusively with his friends, trapped in a rental car and small farmhouse, had exhausted him. He longed to go up to his room for a moment of solitude. No thoughts. No conversations. No reliving that moment.

He closed his eyes as he sat down behind his desk. Unbidden and unwanted, his mind brought the image of Drake and Riley to mind.

"We have something we need to tell you." Drake said once Liam, Hana, and Maxwell sat down.

"Is something wrong?" Hana asked.

Riley shook her head, unshed tears formed as Drake cuddled her closer in his arms.

The couple locked eyes before taking a deep breath.

"We're pregnant!" They shouted.

Maxwell whooped and jumped up to hug them both. Hana followed, exclaiming how happy she was.

Thankfully no one noticed the only person in the room who remained sitting down.

No, Liam thought. He wasn't sure why that denial whispered through his mind. He only knew he didn't want to hear this. See it. Be forced to witness every moment.

He made himself stand to congratulate them. Somehow the words came.

"I'm thrilled for you both." He even managed to smile. "This is the best kind of news."

"Oh! Let's go shopping for the baby to celebrate!" Hana exclaimed.

Everyone else agreed, making their way out the door. Hana paused, glancing back at Liam.

"Aren't you coming?" She asked.

"Of course." He shook himself out of his daze. "I need to retrieve something from upstairs."

She smiled at him. "Hurry."

As soon as the screen door shut, he allowed his smile to disappear. His steps were heavy as he climbed up the stairs.

He hesitated as he walked past the bedroom Drake and Riley had been using since their arrival at the Walker ranch.

The walls were thin. Too thin. He heard everything at night as he tried to sleep in the other bedroom.

There were many nights that he had to leave the house and take a walk just to escape hearing them express and demonstrate their love to one another.

If they had not gotten pregnant after all that, then they never would, he thought.

The moment he parted from them outside the palace, he felt the stress of keeping his feelings buried disappear. He was able to breathe again. Frown if he wanted to without anyone asking what was wrong. Remain silent for the next few weeks if he was so inclined.

He could focus again what was most important: running his kingdom.

Even if it is for someone else's child.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Irritation rose within him that he even had that type of thought. He had chosen this himself. No one forced him to. Why was he now experiencing bitterness when he should be rejoicing? His best friends had done what he had asked. They were pregnant with the royal heir.

What more could I possibly ask for?

"Liam? I hope I'm not interrupting."

He stood up with a tired smile. "Not at all. How were things while I was away?"

Regina eyed him for a moment. "Everything went well. We had requests from a few of the visiting monarchs to rent some of the vacant manors outside the capital."

"Oh? Hoping to use proximity to sway Drake and Riley's decision, I take it."

"Indeed." She sat down across from him. "I gave them permission to do so." A slight smile touched her lips. "If nothing else, we will have nearly a year's worth of rent from these people."

Liam chuckled. "True."

Her expression became serious once more. "Liam, dear..."

He cocked an eyebrow when she didn't continue.

"As difficult as this must be, we will need Drake and Riley to be here for a press conference as soon as possible." She averted her eyes when she saw the brief flash of anguish on his face. "The country has been anxiously awaiting for an announcement."

"I see." He rubbed a hand down his face. "I will let them know." He cleared his throat deciding to change the subject. "Which monarchs are staying in Cordonia?"

"Many, like the King and Queen of Auvernal   are dividing their time between here and their kingdoms." She explained. "The only one needing use of a manor for the entire pregnancy is Queen Amalas."

"Really?" Liam's brow furrowed. "That’s strange. She doesn't strike me as the kind of ruler to leave her duties for so long."

"You're right. That's why she intends for her cousin, Viscountess Millan, to be here the entire time and act as her proxy when she is back in Monterisso."

Liam straightened in his chair. "Lady Elisse is moving here?"

"According to Queen Amalas." Regina replied. "As soon as she is back from America, she will be settling at Cranborne Manor."

"She's in America?" He wondered why she would be there. He knew Amalas had surprised Riley and the other ladies at Savannah's bachelorette party. Her brief visit had struck them all as odd.

Was Elisse following us? Is that how Amalas knew where we were?

"Yes, she is. Boston, I think is where the queen said Lady Elisse was going. How was the wedding?" Regina' s voice cut through his thoughts. "The papers here have spent weeks documenting every little thing." She grimaced slightly. "They are eating it up that the Walker siblings made such advantageous marriages."

That's how Amalas knew where to find us. She had seen it in the news.

Liam relaxed some at that mystery being solved.

"Liam?"

"Forgive me." He apologized. "I think the jet lag is causing me to zone out."

"Then you need to go upstairs and rest."

"But I--"

"No arguments." She took his arm and tugged him toward the door. "There is nothing on that desk that demands your immediate attention."

He looked down at her with an affectionate smile on his lips. Once at the main stairs, she released him. Liam surprised her with a hug and kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you." He said softly. "For commanding me to do so."

She gently patted his cheek. "Anytime, dear."

*****************

Monterisso's Royal Palace...

"Don't go, Lisse." Josip rubbed his eyes before launching himself into Elisse's arms.

"I'll be back." Elisse promised, hugging him tight. "And you can come visit me when Mommy comes." She tilted his little cherub face up. "We'll have new places to play." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "And all the cupcakes we want. Your mommy will never know."

"I heard that." Amalas yelled out from Elisse's closet.

Josip giggled at his mother's tone.

"What are you looking for?" Elisse yelled back.

"That black ballgown of yours." Amalas stepped out with hands on her hips. "The one that caused Lord Ashton to trip and land in the punch bowl."

Elisse rolled her eyes. "It wasn't the dress that caused that. It was his vanity in not wanting to be seen wearing glasses."

"I think it was the dress." She returned to her search. A triumphant yell sounded after a few more minutes.

"You're packing this and wearing it." Amalas said in her queenly tone. "That is a direct order, by the way."

"Hmm." Elisse picked up the little prince. "What do you think? Should I mind mommy?"

"Yes!" He replied with another giggle.

"See." Amalas smiled, "even the prince agrees."

"Very well." Elisse set him down. "I can't fight you both."

"I want you to wear it at the next ball Liam hosts." Her cousin instructed.

"Amalas." Elisse drew out the syllables. "Stop."

"Why? You’re clearly attracted to him."

"You know why." Elisse snapped. "I can't--"

"He's already taken care of that!" Amalas argued. "You could be with him without any pressure."

Elisse zipped her suitcase. "I'm going to Cordonia to represent you, not to romance Liam."

Amalas folded her arms. "If you change your mind, know that I would be thrilled both as your cousin and queen for you to be with him."

The viscountess sighed. "I'm not going to actively pursue him."

Elisse couldn't help but think of that moment in Valtoria's ballroom when he asked her to dance. The way it felt to be in his arms. Talking to him.

A smile appeared as she faced Amalas. "But I won't say no if he decides to pursue me."

****************

The Royal Gardens, Cordonia, a week later...

"Drake and I are so excited." Riley told reporters. "I can't wait to meet our son or daughter."

Cameras flashed as she continued to answer questions.

Liam stood off to the side with a well practiced expression of delight on his face. His eyes swept over the crowd of nobles and members of the press.

He paused when he saw Elisse.

As if sensing she was being watched, she began to turn her head from side to side.

Their eyes met. She sent a smile his way, causing his own to respond.

With a tilt of his head toward the back of the crowd, he made his way over as she did the same.

"Welcome back to Cordonia." Liam kept his voice to barely above a whisper.

"Thank you." She replied. "I am glad to be here again."

"How do you find Cranborne Manor?"

"It's beautiful." Elisse responded. "I love being right on the ocean." She glanced over at the press conference still going. "I slept with my window open last night so I could hear the waves hitting the shore."

"I haven't been to Cranborne in years." Liam slipped his hands in his pockets, relaxing his kingly stance.

"Oh?" She lowered her eyes. "You are more than welcome to stop by and see it."

Liam grinned and also looked away. "I might just take you up on that offer."

She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. "I had thought of taking advantage of the perfect weather and spending a day on the beach tomorrow."

"That sounds nice." He lifted his eyes to hers.

"It's a shame I don't know too many people in Cordonia." She clasped her hands behind her back. "I wouldn't mind some company." Her lips curved slightly. "I might even be willing to pack a picnic."

"Might be willing?" His smile turned a touch flirty. "And what should one expect from a picnic you pack?"

She bit her lip, turning slightly away. "Mostly items that no one deems healthy." Her eyes cut to him. "Everything that tastes good and probably wouldn't appear at a formal court dinner."

He shifted closer to her. "That does sound tempting."

Liam cleared his throat. "Hypothetically speaking, what time would you go out to the beach?"

"Around noon." Elisse couldn't control her smile. "Hypothetically speaking of course."

"Of course."

The crowd began to disperse. Members of the press were packing up their equipment while nobles mingled at the garden party.

"Looks like we better catch up."

Liam wondered if he was imagining the faint note of reluctance in her voice.

He offered his arm to her. "Shall we, m'lady?"

She slipped her hand into the bend of his arm. "Thank you, your majesty."

****************

"Who is that with Liam?" Riley asked.

Maxwell craned his neck to see who she was talking about.

"Hmm. Not sure but I think I've seen her before." He muttered.

"That's Queen Amalas's cousin." Hana said once she caught a glimpse. "From what Madeleine said, she will be remaining here to act as proxy for Monterisso's monarch."

"Liam said he would spend time with her to see if the Spy Queen has any hidden motives." Drake added. His eyes narrowed somewhat at Elisse's ability to hold Liam's attention. "I don't trust her."

The group of friends watched silently as Liam made her laugh on their way to join a group of other visiting foreign nobles.

Overhearing Drake's opinion, Olivia stepped up beside Hana.

"Monterisso has been a country that keeps mostly to itself." Her sharp green eyes remained on the viscountess. "I can't recall the last time any representative from their country visited Cordonia."

"Perhaps it is time to flip the tables on them." Maxwell suggested. "Spy on the spies."

"Isn't that what Liam is doing?" Riley asked. Worry for her friend began to appear on her face. "Do you think he is safe with her?"

"Liam can take care of himself." Hana replied. Her own worry reflected in her eyes. "But I'm worried she will use him in other ways."

"Maybe we should talk to him." Riley slipped her arm around Drake. "What do you think?"

Drake's lips parted, hesitating on whether or not they should interfere. "We'll play it by ear for now. Until we see Liam acting differently, we need to stay out of his way as he tries to gain information."

*******************

The next day, Cranborne Manor's private beach...

"You look much more relaxed today."

"I am. I didn't realize how much I needed a break from everyone."

Elisse chuckled before standing up. "Everyone? I suppose that's my cue to leave."

Liam scrambled upright to snag her hand in order to stop her.

With a laugh, she dodged it and ran off toward the water.

His smile came unbidden as he chased after her.

What am I doing?

That thought caused him to falter once he was waist deep in the ocean.

Elisse popped up out of the water, beside him.

"Is something wrong?" She asked once she pushed her damp clumps of hair out of her eyes.

Liam's gaze drifted over her. The wet, coffee colored hair. Bronze skin glistening with suntan oil and drops of water. Lips that were usually turned up in a warm smile were now in a thin, concerned line. Deep brown eyes that reminded him of dark chocolate. The black bathing suit that highlighted her beauty. He took it all in within a second or two.

I really am attracted to her.

He slowly shook his head. "Nothing's wrong, m'lady."

What am I to do now?

Her smile reappeared. "M'lady? I thought a certain king insisted that today we lose all titles."

He chuckled. "He sounds very intelligent."

"I certainly think he is." She reached for his hand. "Come on. There are a number of desserts in that picnic basket that I want to eat but also need an accomplice to finish them off."

"Should I be concerned with your sugar addiction?" Liam teased.

"Only when you find me eating sugar cubes without a pot of tea or coffee nearby." She teased back.

"I'll make certain to have the Royal guards take up sentry duty by the palace pantry."

"That will cause me to have to smuggle sweet treats into your country." She shook her head sadly. "What would the punishment be for such actions?"

"The most severe one we have." His tone playfully turned sinister. "You will have to watch Cordonia's ruler eating it all in front of you without offering you a single bite."

She gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "I never knew how brutal you could be."

"One has to be with smugglers like you." He winked at her as he helped her unpack the rest of goodies she had brought.

She laughed softly, her own body relaxing in the warm sun and his company.

"I'm glad you took my hypothetical invitation and came by today."

Liam polished off the rest of a vanilla cream puff before responding. "I'm glad you offered it." His lips curved. "Hypothetically."

She opened another container filled with various chocolate covered fruits. Her teasing smile turned a touch serious. "This is my first time living somewhere other than Monterisso."

"It is?"

"Yes." She picked up a strawberry covered in white chocolate. She focused on the waves as she spoke. "I always knew there was a chance of marrying someone who lived in a different country. But, I never imagined living somewhere else alone."

Liam glanced back toward Cranborne. He knew her intimidating bodyguard was most likely watching over them. "You're not completely alone."

"You mean Felix?" She laughed softly. "True. It is hard to ignore his presence." She reclined back on her beach towel. "He's that older brother I always needed growing up."

"Keeps you out of trouble?"

"That and isn't afraid of letting me know when I do something he thinks is foolish." She closed her eyes. "He has stood by me during some difficult moments in my life."

Liam stretched out on his side after removing the picnic basket that sat between them. "It's nice to have a source of comfort."

"Yes, it is." She turned her head and met his steady blue gaze. "It seems you have quite a few that are that for you."

"Yes." Liam averted his eyes. "I suppose I do."

"Liam, may I ask you something personal?" She turned on her side facing him. "If you don't wish to answer, I won't pressure you."

"What is it you wished to ask?"

"Why did you decide to name an heir instead of marrying someone and producing your own?"

His silence made her wish she hadn't ruined this day with her curiosity. He probably despised her for the audacity of even thinking she could ask him something like that.

Though it felt like she had always known him from rereading his file every chance she got, he didn't know her.

Her lips parted to apologize and take back her question.

"I think..." Liam began. "I think I did it out of selfish reasons." He grimaced at voicing what he had hoped wasn't true about himself. "I needed a way to take some time from being pressured about my finding a queen for Cordonia." He lifted his eyes to hers. "And I've used the excuses that I secured the throne and gave an honor to my closest friends."

Liam searched her face for repulsion or disapproval.

He saw nothing but a hint of sadness and sympathy.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" He asked.

"No." She replied. "It's not. From what I know about you, you have been put in some very difficult spots these last few years. You unexpectedly being named the crown prince. Forced to choose a bride to become king. Trying to break away from such tradition. Terrorists." Elisse placed her hand on top of his and gently squeezed. "Who wouldn't want a moment to step back from all that had been asked of him?"

He turned his hand over so he could hold hers. "Thank you, Elisse."

She smiled at him. Her eyes drifted over his handsome face in contented silence.

"May I ask a personal question?"

She nodded. "Of course. It wouldn't be fair for me to be the only one allowed."

"Why didn't you take part in my social season?" Liam braced himself for her answer.

He did not expect the sight of tears forming in her eyes.

"You don't know?" Her voice cracked.

"No." He gently gripped her hand. "I'm sorry, I--"

"Your father didn't want me to take part after the results of his required health examination." Elisse closed her eyes, trying to keep from crying.

"Health examination?" Liam's brow furrowed. "Why would that have any importance?"

"Because you are a king who needs to have heirs for the throne." She said softly.

"Yes, but why would--" Realization came over Liam. "Elisse."

She nodded in a jerky manner.

He couldn't stand to see her so hurt. Ignoring the question his mind asked of why he was doing this, he gently pulled her into his arms.

She buried her face against his shoulder while she silently cried.

Liam closed his eyes, dropping his head against hers. He couldn't help but think how ironic it was. Here was a lady he might very well have realized was the one he should marry that his father kept from him. And yet, he was now a single king with no heir from his bloodline.

If Constantine was not already dead, this surely would have caused it.

Liam looked at Elisse's face when she slowly pulled away.

"I'm sorry." She bit her bottom lip. "I didn't mean to put a damper on our day at the beach.

"You didn't." He reassured her. A bittersweet smile curved his lips. "I had hoped to get to know you."

She delicately blew her nose. "I did too."

Liam tenderly cupped her cheek, drawing her attention back to him.

"Elisse?"

She lifted an eyebrow.

"I think," Liam hesistated. "I wish you had been allowed to come for that season."

She swallowed a touch nervously. "I wish I had too."

[dontshouta]

heeey! can i request bakugo, izuku, shoto and shinsou with an s/o that is a bad influence for them (they manipulate the boys to skip classes, make them jealous/angry just for fun, etc) and then someone or something makes them snap and realize that their s/o is not good? i really like ur writing and really liked this idea but it's ok if you dont feel like doing them

this request made me 🥺 why must u make me write these dumb boys bad 😔 theyre doing their best okay. also i know u didn’t make this exclusively reader x bnha but like. I wanted a happy ending okay.

Bakugou Katsuki:

You were sat in your usual seat in the back of the class, your eyes lazily sweeping over the heads of your peers. Professor Yamada was droning on about some grammatically incorrect sentences in the background of your own thoughts, your mind elsewhere while you drew incoherent doodles in the margins of your notes.

English was your last class for the day, the clock ticking ever so slowly while you thought of any last minute plans you could make with your friends. You thought you could go to the mall with Mina, you needed a new pair of shoes and you knew she wouldn’t do you wrong. Or, you could hang out at Sero and Kaminari’s place, you’ve been meaning to bum out and have a movie night with those two. Or maybe, you could grab some lunch with Bakug-

Where the hell was Bakugou?

Your eyes jumped to stare into his empty desk, burning imaginary holes into the seat while searching through your mind’s eye to figure out why on Earth he would be gone. Bakugou never missed a day of class, so why now? Did he catch a cold? Does he have a dentist’s appointment? Was he abducted by aliens? Did he get hit by a-

Suddenly, the classroom door swung open and in came the culprit. Along with a demon clinging onto his arm. You rolled your eyes, a sigh escaping through your lips as you watched the two make their way to their respective seats. Of course she was the reason why he was late.

“Ahh, sorry professor!” She cooed, mock saluting poor Professor Yamada. “Didn’t realize we were so late, right Katsuki?”

You knew the rat was lying through her teeth. You knew she would rather die than come into class early like a normal student. You glared seething hatred into the back of her head, watching as her hand stayed glued to Bakugou’s arm, even as they sat in their seats. 

Bakugou merely grunted in response, his eyes downcast while he settled in. You wanted to get up and pull him by the ear out of the classroom and give that dumb boy a stern talking to but you had at least some restraint. You studied the boy’s face closely, and you felt your heart sink. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him look so… anguished. His expression was so openly conflicted you couldn’t help the feeling of dejection filling your tight chest.

After class, you launched yourself to Bakugou before his demon of a girlfriend could sink her claws into him first and hightailed it out of the classroom without a trace.

“Y/N- what- where the fuck are you taking me!” He growled, trying to shake himself from you. 

“We need to have a little chit-chat Bakugou.” You started, rounding a corner into a little nook where you and Bakugou could talk without any disturbances. “I saw your face, I know you’re not happy with what happened today. What’s going on?”

Bakugou was quiet for a moment, emotions flickering through his face until he finally broke the silence with a deep sigh.

“This isn’t the first time this sort of thing happened… She keeps forcing me to skip my classes and shit and I don’t know why but I just can’t fucking say no. What the fuck is up with that? Since when have I ever been a damn toy for some girl? This shit’s been really pissing me off but I haven’t done jack shit about it!”

You could see the anger coursing through his body as he restrained himself from probably yeeting you into space. You felt angry. Angry because you didn’t notice his inner turmoil earlier and even angrier because of the person doing this. Didn’t she care for Bakugou at all? What a shitty girlfriend. You wouldn’t treat him like this.

“Bakugou,” You placed a comforting hand on his bicep, squeezing the hard muscle tightly to show your support. “I think you should break up with her. I’ve never had a good feeling about her in the first place and I hate seeing you so miserable because of some obnoxious brat.”

He reached up to squeeze your hand back before removing it entirely from his arm with a heavy sigh. 

“Thanks, Y/N.. Even though you’re always in my fuckin’ business I appreciate you knocking some damn sense into my head.”

You gave him a bright smile. “Of course! I’d hate to see my favorite rat in distress!” You puffed your chest out with pride. “Now you owe me, how about taking me out on a date once your free from the devil’s clutches?”

With a roll of his eyes he ruffled your hair, a smirk playing on his lips while he abandoned your super secret hiding spot. Hands shoved into his jeans pockets, he looked over his shoulder, a cocky look in his eyes. 

“I knew you only wanted me to break up with her just so you could get a shot at me. You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”

A furious blush erupted onto your cheeks as you wildly yelled at the boy. The only response he so graciously gave you was a wink and a chuckle, causing your shouts behind him to grow tenfold.

You were left with red cheeks and a shy smile as you watched Bakugou escape your sight. You just hoped the stupid boy would actually break up with the witch or you feared you’d meddle again and do it yourself.

Midoriya Izuku:

Click. Click. Click. Click. ClickClickClickClickClickClickClickClick-

“Okay, Mido, I’m taking that from you.” You snatched the boy’s pen from his hand before he could protest and shoved it into your jacket pocket. His face flushed as he muttered incoherent excuses under his breath, the mess of hair on top of his head bobbing while he jittered in his seat.

You’d hoped you could have a relaxing study session with Midoriya in the local coffee shop but the poor boy had been fidgeting ever since the pair of you entered the establishment.

“Mido, what’s wrong? You’re more spazzy than usual.” 

You watched as he rolled his bottom lip in between his teeth while staring at something behind you, causing a large sigh to escape from your lips.

“Dude, are you zoning out again? I asked you a ques-” Just as you started talking you turned to see what he was staring at, as soon as your eyes landed on the scene behind you you whipped right back around with wide eyes.

“Yo, isn’t that your boyfriend??” Your eyes were wide with concern,  your body frantically forcing itself in front of Midoriya’s line of sight. “Mido, he’s all over that guy, did you guys break up or something?”

You wanted nothing more than to launch yourself from your seat to beat the other boy up but you held yourself back to hear out your friend instead.

Midoriya raked both of his hands through his hair, mumbling as he did so. He slumped back into his chair in defeat, his face scrunching up in both anger and betrayal.

“Haha.. no, Y/N. Um, he’s-he’s been doing this for a while actually haha.. At first it was kinda cute I guess but now I’m not sure if he even likes me anymore. I don’t like being jealous, Y/N.. I don’t even feel like it’s worth the hassle anymore..” 

Your heart broke for him, watching him struggle with his emotions right in front of you. You stole a quick peek behind you again, your eyes meeting the flirting boy’s briefly. His eyebrow cocked up, almost making you jump out of your seat to defend your friend. You felt the need to fight a bitch growing now more than ever.

“Dude what the hell, he’s doing it on purpose?? What’s his deal? Is he so insecure in your relationship that he has to openly flirt with someone else? Mido, you don’t deserve that.” You took his hand in yours as you watched tears well up in his angry eyes. A watery laugh bubbled out from his as a sneaky tear slipped down his cheek.

“Y/N I feel so stupid right now! I can’t even muster up the courage to tell him off-”

A hand wrapped tightly around your arm and ripped it away from Midoriya, you winced in pain as it was suddenly ripped in the wrong direction.

“Yo, what the fu-”

“Get your hands off him, freak. He’s my boyfriend, remember?”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. You stood, your body silently fuming as his words hit your ears. Your arm slightly aching at the socket, adding fuel to the already blazing fire. Who the fuck does this man think he is? You made a mental note to have Todoroki melt your arm off later.

“You’re one to talk! You’ve been all over that guy the entire time we’ve been here! And Mido’s been telling me this isn’t the first time this has happened. You have no right to come up to me, physically injure me, and tell me that I can’t comfort my hurting friend over some douchebag like you. Frankly, I’m fucking disgusted that you had the balls to pull that shit with me.”

Midoriya stood too, his chair screeching as it was pushed back with force. He planted himself between the two of you, a fiery look in his eye as he jutted his chin out to address his “boyfriend”.

“You can play with my heart all you want. You can keep making me skip my classes. You can keep pressuring me to do stuff I don’t want to. You can keep making me jealous. You can keep flirting with other guys. But you, hurting one of my best friends, crosses the line. You need to go. Don’t bother trying to contact me, as of now, you’re nothing to me.”

Before the weasel can so much as object, Midoriya gathered everything from your abandoned table, took your hand, and rushed out of the coffee shop. 

The two of you walked in silence for a couple of blocks, Midoriya’s hand still gripping yours like his life depended on it. Causing your cheeks to flush and your heart to accelerate even more than it already has.

“M-Midoriya, I think we’re good.. now” 

The boy suddenly stopped, causing you to crash into his back. A small ow sounded from you, your hand rubbing your nose while you silently cursed the literal brick house in front of you. How could a sweet, innocent guy like Midoriya be so fuckin’ stacked?

“Y/N.. thank you for sticking up for me back there.. I know I wouldn’t have had the confidence to tell him off if you weren’t there to do it first.” 

“It was no problem, Mido! What’re friends for?”

“Haha yeah.. Friends..”

Todoroki Shouto:

It was around 3 AM. Honestly, you weren’t really sure what time it was exactly but what you were sure of was the fact that it was way past your bedtime. You wanted nothing more than to collapse onto your bed without a second thought but you couldn’t ignore your growling stomach. So, you were posted in front of the microwave like a soldier guarding a princess, waiting for your good ‘ol cuppa mac n cheese to finish.

You heard the front door to the dorms open and shut, two pairs of wobbly footsteps entering with angry shushes accompanying them. You moved from your position, making your way out of the kitchen and towards the two people trying, and failing, to keep quiet.

“Todoroki? What’re you doing here so late? Shouldn’t you be in-”

The other person shushed you, eyebrows set in a tired frown as they clung to Todoroki desperately. Something was off.

“What the fuck’re you so loud for? Shove off why don’t you? It’s none of your business.” 

You were shocked to the point where you couldn’t get a clever retort in even if you tried. Which pained you. But, you couldn’t leave it at that. You would’ve loved to pretend like you didn’t see them, but you couldn’t ignore Todoroki’s look of displeasure on his usually calm, beautiful face.

“Dude, as much as I would like to ignore you for the rest of my life, I can’t just let you drag around Todoroki like that. Can’t you tell he’s uncomfortable?”

They just rolled their eyes, hands tightening on Todoroki’s shirt possessively. You felt your own hands ball into fists, your patience thinning in the company of the little troll.

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Their response rewarded a scoff from you, you refused to let them get away with whatever they were trying to do. It didn’t seem right, not one bit.

“Um. But it is my business. Todoroki’s my friend and I’m not gonna leave you alone until you leave him alone.”

“Ha!” They barked, hand fluttering onto their chest haughtily. “You think he’d rather be with you? What, you confused or something? He’s dating me, smartass. Not you.”

“Actually, I’d much rather be with Y/N right now.. If you don’t mind.” Todoroki’s speech was slightly slurred as he spoke, his eyes barely following your movements as he slumped over.

His date physically recoiled, an incredulous look painting their already angry features as they pushed the drunk boy onto you without any care.

“Fine, like I care. When you come to your fucking senses, I’ll be in my room.”

With a huff, they were gone. You were left with the barely sober man who slowly wrapped his arms around you, using you as his support while the two of you stood without a word.

A million thoughts were racing through your mind as you assessed the situation. Todoroki and his date came super late into the dorms, drunk. His date tried to get him up into one of their respective rooms, together. The thought made your skin crawl, hoping the events that would’ve transpired were more innocent than you thought. 

Todoroki shifted in your arm, his face nuzzling into your neck with his hot breath fanning against your cool skin.

“Um- uhh, Todoroki? Do you want me to take you to your room? You should sleep, it’s super late.”

The boy hummed, his face burrowing deeper into your neck, making a surprised squeal erupt from your lips while goosebumps exploded onto your skin. You felt hot, your whole body burning from the sudden affection.

“No.. I’d rather be right. Here.” The boy said it with such finality you wondered if he’d sobered up right then and there. You wished he did though, he was getting heavier and heavier in your arms. You would be surprised if the two of you didn’t collapse onto the floor.

“Todo, you’re drunk, please lemme take you upstairs.”

He let out a small whine, his hands wrapping around you tighter. He shook his head no while still buried in your neck, tickling you and causing you to giggle. Oh man, he was going to be the death of you. With a defeated sigh, you ran your fingers through his hair to try and appease the drunk brat latched onto you.

“I like you better than them, Y/N. You’re nice to me and don’t make me go out clubbing every night.”

Your heart raced, the hand in his hair stopping its ministrations to process the words that had just came out of your drunk companion. This was a usual thing, wasn’t it? The poor boy must always be tired. Come to think of it, there has been some uncharacteristic dark circles under his eyes lately. You wanted to sleep with him every night to make sure he was getting a good night’s sleep.

“Todo, if you don’t like them, break up with them. It’s that simple.”

He moved his face from it’s spot in your neck and rested his chin on your sternum, mismatched eyes staring into yours earnestly.

“If I do, can I be with you instead?”

Shinsou Hitoshi:

You knew you were being creepy. You could feel it in your bones. The creep factor was up by 50% with the way you were slinking around in the library. You couldn’t help it though, you knew something was up as soon as you saw them walk in.

You watched with narrowed eyes as Shinsou and his girlfriend walked through the library. Shinsou looked as passive as always, but you knew him better than that. You could practically feel the discomfort coming off him in waves. 

You wanted to confront them but something was stopping you. You knew you couldn’t just come up to the two and start accusing his girlfriend of something you don’t know anything about. You didn’t want to make a scene. Yet. So, like the nosy bitch you were, you decided to snoop.

“Hitoshi, just use your quirk, yeah? Do it for me? Please?” The way she pranced around him and hung onto his arm for dear life made you want to gag. But you were more concerned about her trying to coerce Shinsou to use his quirk.

For what? What was she trying to accomplish? Did she want something from someone? Why were they in the library? What was the point of all this?

“You know I’m not comfortable with using my quirk for things like that, so why do you keep asking?”

“Well, you’re my boyfriend, shouldn’t you make an exception for me? It’s not like you’ve denied me before.”

You furrowed your brow. She’s been making him use his quirk without his full consent? Why would he let her do that? You found the whole thing to be completely and utterly. Whack. You really didn’t understand what was happening so you continued your snooping adventure.

“Yeah, well, I just don’t wanna do it anymore. Like, you keep making me use my quirk for villainous shit. You do realize I’m trying to prove to everyone that it could be used for heroing too, right? You’re my girlfriend, shouldn't you understand?”

Hearing him use her own words against her made your chest swell with pride. Fuck yeah, Shinsou baby, tell that bitch what’s up. But then you felt it sink right back down after processing his words. She’s been making him use his quirk, with dubious consent, for villainous activities? That’s more than whack. She’s in a school for heroes for crying out loud, surely she’d know better than that?

“Hitoshi, it’s all just a little bit of fun! We’re not hurting anybody, and nobody knows its us! it’s a win-win if I do say so myself.”

At this point, you couldn’t keep yourself concealed, you had to give her a piece of your mind. You sprang from your hiding spot and rushed towards the two, an accusing finger pointing right at the little gremlin woman who claimed to be Shinou’s lovely girlfriend.

“Listen up ya little wench, I think you’re gross for trying to use my buddy Shinsou for your little games! How could you do that? Shinsou’s such a genuine person trying to be a hero and here you are ruining it for him! You make me sick!”

She all but huffed before stomping away, flipping you off behind her back and motioning between her and Shinsou before making a heart and breaking it. 

“Did she just break up with me?”

His casual nonchalance at the whole fiasco caused a cackle to erupt from your chest, hand slapping at his hard chest as you fought your raucous giggles.

“Good riddance! I couldn’t stand to hear her babble on any longer.” You huffed and crossed your arms, making sure to stick your tongue out at her retreating form.

“So.. you were spying on me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah? And? I could smell her bad intentions from a mile away, you should thank me.”

“How about I thank you over some dinner?”

[musicaltheatrewannabe]

snow - a seblos oneshot <3

hope yall had a merry christmas - i am back with another seblos fic bc i cant get enough of them, so here we have them as boyfriends building a snowman and cute shenanigans ensue, enjoy!

Carlos put his feet up on the couch and yawned. It was the morning of December 26th and all of the Christmas excitement in his house from the day before had worn off, leaving his family scattered around doing nothing. For one thing, it wasn’t snowing anymore, and the non-stop snowfall of the day before had made it a magical white Christmas. Carlos got out his phone and scrolled mindlessly through the multitude of Christmas - and the handful of Hanukkah - posts on Instagram, smiling at all of his friends’ pictures. He was so glad that the production of High School Musical that semester had given him not only the opportunity to work as a choreographer, but also his first real group of friends. And then there was Seb, his boyfriend. Carlos smiled at the thought of the blonde musical theatre farmboy. He was still getting used to them being boyfriends, but with every day that they spent together it sunk in a little more. Carlos navigated back to Seb’s account and was looking at his family Christmas post just a little longer when he received a text from him: hey babe! happy boxing day lol:)

Carlos felt his heart flutter at being called “babe” and replied: happy boxing day to you too! you doing anything interesting to celebrate? ahaha.

Seb’s reply came immediately: not really - everyone has kind of disappeared to their own corners of the house…

Carlos stretched his back and sat up a bit on the couch before replying: honestly same, idk how my house went from the chaos it was last night to being completely deserted.

Seb wrote back again: well, if you’re not doing anything, do you wanna come over? the snow is so pretty here on the farm!

Carlos already started getting off the couch as he typed out his reply: yes pls, ok ill be there soon!

Soon enough Carlos had put on a scarf, hat and gloves, and had gotten one of his older cousins to drive him to Seb’s farm. He rang the doorbell eagerly, filled with the nervous energy that he got every time he saw Seb. Carlos heard footsteps thundering down the stairs and smiled at the fact that Seb was running to get the door. A few moments later, it swung open to reveal Seb grinning out at Carlos. “Hi!” he said, and leaned in to give Carlos a peck.

Carlos blushed at the kiss and said, “hey, what’s up?” He walked inside after Seb and started to take off his coat and hat when the other boy turned to grab his arms.

“Well, I’ve honestly just been hanging around so far, but I was thinking we could head out back and, I don’t know, like, make a snowman? Or something?” Seb looked hopefully at Carlos.

Carlos shrugged his coat back on with an eager grin, “yes, that sounds super fun!”

“Ok, great! Let me just put on my coat and boots,” Seb reached into his hall closet to get his winter clothes, including a long knitted rainbow scarf.

“Is that a homemade scarf?” Carlos asked. “Because it’s very cute,” he nodded his approval.

Seb grinned and wrapped it around his neck. “My grandma knitted it and gave it to me for Christmas,” he said, “it’s really cute, she’s been trying so hard to show her acceptance of me being gay ever since I came out to her last year.” Seb closed the closet and walked Carlos through the living room to the house’s back door.

“That’s so sweet, did you manage to fit your entire extended family in here last night?” Carlos asked, trying to imagine dozens of relatives filling the space.

“Don’t ask me how,” Seb laughed, opening the door and stepping out onto the porch. “Between my extended family and the farm animals, there was a lot of chaotic energy here last night.”

Carlos reached out to hold Seb’s hand as they looked out at the untouched snow beyond the porch. “Well, it’s very peaceful now,” he said, leaning his head onto Seb’s shoulder.

Seb took a deep breath and basked in the silence for all of three seconds before yelling, “not for long!” and running off the porch out into the snow.

Carlos laughed and followed suit, trying for fun to step exclusively in the footprints that Seb had made. “You’re such an idiot!” he called after his boyfriend, who was already gathering up snow into a large pile. When Carlos caught up to Seb, he started helping to build the base of the snowman.

They quickly finished the first layer, though that one was the easiest. Seb tried to make a small snowball and roll it around to accumulate more snow for the second layer, but it kept falling apart when it was only half the size that they wanted. When Seb kept failing, Carlos said, “here, watch and learn,” and tried as well, but his snow wouldn’t stick together either.

“You were saying?” Seb smirked and raised an eyebrow at Carlos, who shot him a glare in return.

“Hey, this has always worked for me before, okay?” Carlos countered, playfully hitting Seb on the arm. Seb feigned shock and knelt back down to the ground, forming a snowball again. “What are you doing, honey, it’s not just gonna work all of a sudden-“ Carlos’ sentence was cut off when Seb looked up at him with a mischievous grin and threw the snowball at him.

“Seems like that one worked,” Seb giggled.

Carlos raised his eyebrows at Seb and calmly said, “oh, I see, we’re doing this?” He dropped down to the ground to start making several snowballs, and a look of worry crossed Seb’s face.

“Uh oh…” Seb trailed off, running away from Carlos and the house. He stopped behind a tree and started making his own set of snowballs there, ready to retaliate when Carlos would attack. Seb took a quick peek back around the tree and was immediately met by a snowball to the chest and Carlos running toward him.

“How are your reflexes so fast, what the hell?” Seb laughed, throwing a few snowballs at the quickly-approaching Carlos.

“Ten years of dance training!” Carlos shouted back with a grin and a pirouette. Before he could reach the blonde boy, he dropped his last snowball and stopped to make a new one.

Seb took this as his opportunity to get away and ran in the opposite direction, frantically looking back to see Carlos hot on his trail. “No!” he shrieked and laughed as Carlos hit him right in the center of his back. Seb dramatically dropped to his knees and fell into the snow, turning around so he was on his back.

Carlos stood over him with a triumphant grin. “Do you accept defeat?” he asked.

Seb nodded and held out his hand. “Help me up?” he asked, looking up at Carlos with puppy dog eyes.

Carlos rolled his eyes and laughed, grabbing Seb’s hand. “You shouldn’t have dropped to the floor,” he tried to pull but Seb wouldn’t get up, and instead pulled Carlos to the ground with him.

Carlos let out a shriek but landed gracefully before laying his head carefully back into the snow. Seb laughed and turned to his boyfriend, his face softening into a smile, before looking back up at the clear blue sky again. He stretched out his arms and started sliding them up and down, along with his legs. “Look, a snow angel!” Seb turned his head to Carlos and beamed at him.

Carlos smiled fondly and softly said, “you’re a snow angel,” before blushing madly. “Oh my God that was so cheesy I’m sorry,” he laughed, and Seb giggled.

Seb stopped making the snow angel and shuffled closer so he could wrap an arm around Carlos. “No, I think it’s cute when you say stuff like that,” he chuckled. ���It shows that you’re comfortable around me,” he said softly and nuzzled Carlos’ nose with his own.

Carlos stared back at Seb in awe and wrapped his arm around his neck. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he smiled, their faces still nearly touching. Barely needing to move, he leaned in to kiss Seb, slowly and gently. Seb’s arm tightened around Carlos’ back and then his hand started tracing patterns over the other boy’s coat. Carlos played with the hair at the nape of Seb’s neck in response, eliciting a contented sigh. They pulled apart and locked eyes again, not needing any words to express what they were feeling. Carlos leaned back into the snow again and his eyes drifted shut. Maybe it was just the cold, or maybe it was the way that he could feel Seb there without seeing him, but he felt the need to take in the moment, and Seb did the same.

After they had laid in the snow a few minutes longer, both boys started to really process the cold and got up to wander back to their unfinished snowman.

“Let’s try together,” Seb suggested regarding their previous failed attempts at making the second layer. Instead of just rolling a regular snowball around, they placed one on the first layer and packed snow onto it, and it stuck together.

“Nice!” Carlos high-fived Seb when they got the second layer to stay in place. They quickly managed to make the snowman’s head as well.

“I’ll go get some pebbles - can you find a few twigs for the arms back at my tree?” Seb asked with a chuckle.

Carlos picked out two pretty even sticks to be the arms and returned to find Seb giving their snowman pebble eyes, a nose and a mouth. Carlos nodded approvingly and stared at the snowman contemplating how to stick in the arms, earning a laugh from Seb.

Finally he stuck the twigs into the snowman so that they were sticking up, twig hands in the air. “Now we can call him Bob Fosse, what do you think?” Carlos grinned at Seb.

“Sounds about right,” Seb laughed, taking off his hat to put it on Fosse’s head.

“And for the finishing touch,” Carlos said and dramatically put his scarf around the snowman. He stepped back to look proudly at Fosse and took a picture of him.

“You know what? I’m very impressed with our creation!” Seb beamed at Carlos, their gazes lingering on each other. Seb noticed Carlos shiver and his expression turned to one of concern. “You don’t have a scarf anymore!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m fine,” Carlos said, his teeth chattering.

“No no, it’s cold! Here, we can share mine,” Seb unwrapped his long rainbow scarf and looped it around Carlos’ neck, pulling him closer and wrapping it around his own neck as well. Both boys laughed at the impracticality of it but Seb just put his arms around Carlos and said, “see?”

Carlos couldn’t help but smile as he glanced up at Seb’s head. “And you don’t have a hat anymore, which means I get to do this,” he grinned as he ran his fingers through Seb’s hair.

The blonde boy thought about protesting in the name of not messing up his hair, but then he realized that he’d already laid in the snow, and besides, it felt really nice. “I won’t complain this time,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“So the truth comes out, huh?” Carlos chuckled and dropped his hands back down, earning a pout from his boyfriend. Seb tightened the scarf around their necks to bring them closer to each other and crashed their lips together. Carlos was momentarily startled by the action but his eyes squeezed shut and he reacted quickly. His hands flew back up to Seb’s head, running through his hair, and Carlos felt Seb smile into the kiss. He pulled away but placed tons of little kisses over Seb’s cheeks and jaw, earning a small giggle, before returning to his lips. Seb finally pulled away for good and nuzzled his face into Carlos’ neck.

They rested there peacefully for a moment before Seb’s little sister ran out onto the porch and yelled, “Sebby! Can you make us hot chocolate?!!” The boys rolled their eyes with a sigh and laughed.

Seb unwrapped the scarf, leaving it around Carlos’ neck, and took his hand to walk back inside. Seb couldn’t help but kiss Carlos on the cheek right before they walked in. “You just look so cute in my scarf,” he said with an unapologetic smile.

After making hot chocolate for all of the kids, the boys were cleaning up in the kitchen. “You know,” Seb said, turning to Carlos, “we should make this our new Boxing Day tradition, since neither of us had one.”

Carlos smiled and raised his eyebrows at Seb. “Oh yeah? That could work… Which part?”

Seb bit his lip and grinned, wrapping an arm around Carlos’ waist and whispering into his ear, “all of it?”

[rueitae]

What Reality Is This?

The crack isn’t finished. This is the prequel to It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like A Christmas Carol, which you should probably read first for maximum enjoyment: Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 or on Ao3.

(I joked about writing this but @hailqiqi and @sp4c3-0ddity are enablers.)

Read on Ao3

~~~~~~~

Waking up not-dead had been a nice surprise, suddenly having the knowledge of infinite realities... not so much.

Allura has forever, and it doesn’t take long comparatively for her to get used to her new role as caretaker of all realities. The information is limitless and her mind and spirit has the capacity for it all.

She’s bored.

Her realm takes the form of her old room on the Castle, a large screen across from the bed she sits on. She’s thought it all up for maximum comfort, right down to the pink lion sleepwear.

She studies the contents, absentmindedly braiding her hair. “Does Pidge truly sound like that in most realities?”

After a quick check, yes, in seventy-three perfect of realities (oh how she hates how right Slav was) she - or rather  he  in this case - does.

Allura is grateful for  her Pidge. She owes her much more than she had been able to express in life. The passion and drive for Altean technology, especially in their early days provided a sense of normalcy and peace that her people’s legacy would live on in  someone . She’s thankful to Shiro for sharing leadership, for Keith and his understanding, and for Hunk who reunited her with her people. She misses her Paladins - her family - more with every reality she peeks into, particularly since there aren’t many in which she knows them.

She especially misses Lance.

He’d given her a thread of hope for the future and she’d clung to it desperately. He was a comfort and shoulder to cry on; she felt wanted for being herself, not just Princess of Altea and leader of the Voltron Coalition.

Had she given him the same? Had she soothed his insecurity? A place deep in her gut clenches at the doubt and she clings to her pillow a little tighter. In their short time together it seemed he just wanted to be together.  That’s  what it had taken for him to be sure of himself? It doesn’t seem right.

She needed him for those two months; had he needed her?

When she looks into her own reality she isn’t as sure as she’d like to be. Lance isn’t doing what she expects of him, away from the spotlight and cultivating juniberries in a near constant state of melancholy. For a while she’s proud. He’s a better person from when they first met, no longer obnoxious and overbearing but choosing to show his more heartfelt self.

So why does he seem so sad? What does Lance need?

She has the rest of eternity to dwell on it. If she’s to remain sane, she will have to desensitize and look at things objectively, like any other mission.

Today is not that day.

“He must have a happy ending at least,” she hopes. But the further into the future she delves, the harder it becomes to watch how Lance handles her death.  His death leaves her wholly stricken and heartbroken. A complete accident? A life ended too short and unfulfilled, not even for the good of anyone else? None of their shared family to speak of their time in space together at his funeral?

Allura fervently flips through as many realities as she can, comprehending their entirety faster than they can flash on her imagined monitor. She needs to see something happier for Lance. Guilt twists in her heart as a pattern emerges.

Lance is happiest when he’s around and wanted by others. He loves being the center of attention, and not for the selfish reasons Allura’s led herself to believe. He just likes people. He genuinely wants to know about everyone’s day. He wants to see others smile (and will absolutely make a fool of himself to do it). He’s a pilot of some kind in nearly every reality.

Her Lance isn’t getting enough of it with his family on a farm.

“I don’t understand,” she tells a perfectly happy future Lance as he joins Keith in an airshow squadron. “You matured. You should be happy.”

“Knowledge is power, and power means quasenbullion credits for the bonus round! Need a brain to pick?”

Allura huffs in annoyance, and with a flick of her finger throws Bob across the room.

He poofs right back, hovering in his chair to the side of her bed.

“That’s a sour face if I ever saw one,” Bob says with a roll of his eyes. “I haven’t seen you this upset since you first arrived here. Where’s that winning smile when you helped me with the heroes from Centra-7.”

“I am not in need of your assistance, Bob, not right now.” She fixes her eyes upon the monitor, now back to her home reality’s future. “I am in the middle of something very important.”

Bob floats in between her and the screen, leaning towards her with an elbow resting comfortably on an armrest. “Are you sure about that? You do  not  look like you’re having fun at  all . That’s what Norlax is around for.”

Allura wills herself to flip around, back to her unwelcome visitor (not for the first time either). The screen moves with her. She doesn’t need to move herself physically here, not when just thinking for something makes it appear for her.

“This isn’t the kind of work I would consider fun,” she insists. There must be a way to help Lance avoid a dismal future, if she can only find a constant between all the realities.

Bob’s face lowers upside down in front of hers. “Is it a people problem? I’m good with people.”

Allura huffs, a too familiar scowl forming on her face. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

“That’s not fair!” Bob flips rightside up and waves his hands around in indignation. “I helped the gang from Planet Zedoran go from enemies to friends! You saw it!” He waggles his eyebrows. “I’ll bet you ten credits they’ll go friends to lovers next.” He pops beside her once again and pats her shoulder. “Your performance for that was spectacular by the way, mmmmh,” he kisses his knuckles with flair, relishing in the memory, “like well aged nunvil.”

“You’re welcome,” Allura says with finality. “Now will you leave me be? This is truly important to me.”

“Your team is in trouble?” he guesses.

Allura is about to retort, but pauses as she realizes he guesses correctly. His tone is tinged with sympathy she’s become accustomed to from him. “Something like that. I’m worried for Lance’s future.”

“Loverboy,” Bob nods in recognition. “How’s the kid doing these days?”

She sighs in defeat. Frustrating he may be, Bob is still a guest, and without his guidance she’d have lost herself to madness by now. In a blink she’s standing and presentable in her favorite dress, hair loose and free.

She sighs and clasps her hands together. “What are you really doing here, Bob? Did you want to see your favorite reality again?”

Bob leans on an elbow, palm raised towards her, and crosses his legs casually. “Your thoughtfulness is touching as always.” He sighs dramatically. “As much as I enjoy watching Voltron as actual cats, I’m here for business, but I can’t see why I can’t help out a friend in need while I’m at it.”

Her mouth twitches. Bob has revealed himself to be an odd but kind mentor since her arrival to this place. Never would she have imagined willingly assisting him on his game show, but from her new position she sees how he tests heroes throughout the universe where as a contestant she never could. He encourages her to use her powers, testing their limits to show heroes what may or may not become of them.

Although his helpfulness one minute and infuriating goofiness the next is still something she isn’t over. “Hero business or show business?” she asks in resignation.

“Not mutually exclusive,” he tsks, wagging a finger, “as you can attest to yourself. It happens to do with your Paladins, actually. I just got my ratings back from your episode of Garfle Warfle Snick - and it is a  hit ! The networks want more.”

Only years of diplomatic training forces Allura to shut her gaping jaw.

“What networks? Bob, the show is your test - no one  is watching,” she says in exasperation.

Bob zips over and nudges her in the arm. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he teases before hovering leisurely over to the screen where the current reality still plays. “So what do you say, think you can get the gang back together for a sequel? It’d be a great reunion  and  you can sort out whatever’s making Loverboy upset.”

Allura grits her teeth and crosses her arms. “I do not think so!” she scolds. “Even if I could see them again, I would use the opportunity to ensure their futures are happy, not put them back on your quiznaking game show!” Anger and frustration build under her skin. Her reality’s Lance is doomed to such a poor fate; it churns her stomach that he may have been better off trapped with Bob instead of mourning her.

Mourning. The realization hits hard, and it spears her heart. “I was not able to move on from my past and it blinded me to my personal future happiness,” she breathes in disbelief. “I - Bob - I can’t.” She doesn’t know why she begs as if Bob has these answers, he can’t change anything. (But he does listen.) “I will not let Lance suffer the same fate, it isn’t fair.”

“Aaaaand there’s the answer to the billion credit question,” Bob grimaces. “Weren’t there six Paladins? Last I checked, you’re the only one who died. You all passed the test with flying colors,” he nudges her in the arm, “Lions, colors, flying, get it?” Bob backs away before continuing, “you’re all perfectly capable of helping each other through anything.”

Allura growls and shows Bob Lance’s sparse funeral. “Then why don’t they?”

Bob shrugs. “You’re the one with access to the multiverse.”

Allura grumbles, but he’s right.

She starts from the beginning. She sees Hunk grow to love cooking, Shiro struggling with his degenerative disease, Keith’s parents meeting, and Lance greeting pilots with enthusiastic questions.

Pidge surprises her. Allura knows she loves her family fiercely, but their interactions as Paladins were limited to issues related to saving the universe, so seeing Pidge’s childhood is centered around her family in nearly every aspect catches her off guard. Allura wishes she had paid more attention to Pidge’s interests, not just the technological ones or relating to Voltron.

Her room is full of so many adorable things, but Allura doesn’t know the names of any of them. But she wants to know, and Pidge could have told her. A young Pidge paints her nails and puts her hair up in funky styles for fun. Salty tears reach Allura’s mouth before she realizes she’s crying. That could have been  them  during their downtime on the Castle. She mourns for the missed opportunities.

Allura feels the pain along with Pidge when she loses her father and brother. It’s like waking up from the cryopods and discovering the fate of her father and her people all over again.

The time at the Galaxy Garrison is enlightening, in more ways than one. Piding fumbles her first interactions with Lance and Hunk, continually brushing them off only to look longingly after them as they walk away.

“Pidge, please,” Lance moans, draping himself over Pidge, who sits at a desk. “Hunk is sick and I need a break. I’ve been studying so hard my brain is going to fall out.”

She stands abruptly, causing Lance to tumble to the floor. “No. I have more important things to do than go to a Valentine’s Day dinner!” She huffs and sits down, back to him. Her cheeks flush a bright red.

“Okay, fine. Do what you want.  I  am going to enjoy a delicious steak dinner with… someone…” he finishes lamely.

Once the door closes, Pidge slams her book shut, opens a small notepad, and proceeds to write furiously in it, her cheeks not returning to their normal color until she’s finished writing.

“Ooohh...rejection,” Bob winces. “And on the day of love too.”

Allura turns to him, flabbergasted. “‘Day of love’? They have a Sacred Heart Day as well?” It doesn’t surprise her that a day set aside to celebrate love of all kinds was a universal concept, but she’s shaken by the idea of Lance and Pidge spending it together. It tickles at a meaning that goes deeper than teammates and Paladins.

“Lance was always near Pidge in almost everything we did as a team,” Allura realizes as she searches her memory. “I always suspected he liked her - those Olkari earrings were such a specifically thoughtful gift, but I did not realize Pidge felt the same. He promised to follow me anywhere, I assumed I’d been wrong about his feelings for Pidge.” she says, hand clenched near her heart. “The Paladins were my first real friends too. I should have said something. Surely Lance would be happier?”

“That’s the game winning question, isn’t it?” Bob asks. “Would he?”

Allura tightens her gaze. A teledav platform rises from the floor and she takes hold of each pedestal. “It’s better if I show you. Perhaps that will shed some light on this situation.”

“Oh? This will be good.” A bag of popcorn appears in his lap. “I only got half of your team’s story from Bi-Boh-Bi.”

She twists her hands on the pedestals to show him, but then stops. “Bob,” she says blandly, “you literally see into the hearts of heroes. What could you have possibly missed?”

“Just because I can see individual parts doesn’t mean I have the entire performance,” he shrugs. “You want Lance to be happy? Find  everything  that makes him happy, romance is only a fraction of of his person.”

Allura does want him to be happy, all of them. What is her sacrifice worth if they are not? So she closes her eyes in concentration... and searches. Realities pass by in an instant and Allura sifts through them one by one.

She finds what she is looking for over Bob’s ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s and ‘scandelous!’ at various realities. “They were roommates!” he exclaims as Allura speeds by an older Rizavi and Kinkade walking out of an apartment together. Bob leans in, grinning slyly, “I’ll bet there’s only one bed too.”

“There!” Allura declares in triumph when she finds Lance, ignoring Bob’s observation. “A reality in which they do not find Voltron. Lance becomes a pilot and a teacher!” she exclaims, thrilled. “Perhaps he needs to go back to the Garrison?”

Bob does not look convinced. He leans back comfortably. “Eh. He’s mostly happy I guess, busy at least. He  is  the most ambitious out of all of you.”

Allura puts a hand on her hip. “He is busy on the farm and he still ends up forgotten.”

“‘Cause he feels insignificant,” Bob says as if it were obvious. “You saw him flinch every time I called him the dumb one. Being a part of Voltron did something for all of you. There’s a far greater purpose in that than just flying a jet or growing flowers.”

“All right. Then what about this one.” Allura shifts the monitor to Lance delivering supplies to alien refugees. “Helping others is a greater purpose!”

Bob nods, examining the reality with scrutiny. “That’s not all he has in this reality.”

Sure enough a young girl jumps out of the ship and into his arms as soon as he sets a crate down, hugging and laughing with her.

Her hearts breaks as she sees most of Lance’s happy realities involve a family of his own. “I can remind him of his purpose. How can I possibly give him a family?”

An older Pidge steps out of the shuttle and scoops the child out of his arms. “You and I have a date with the hyperdrive, Peanut. You can help Daddy hand the supplies out later.”

It clicks. Allura can’t give him a family (and if she’s honest she never was excited about having children of her own)...

But Pidge could.

“Oooh,” Bob perks up. “Have you figured it out?”

“I believe so,” she nods, used to him reading her body language. “At least a catalyst.” The relationship was there it just needed… coaxing.

He waves his arm expectantly, “and the answer is…?”

“A-”

“Like we practiced. Please?” he begs, batting his eyelids.

Allura sighs. “What is, all of the above?” Bob spins for joy as she continues, “I need to keep him in regular contact with the others, rekindle his love for piloting, and get Pidge to do it for me.”

Bob’s grin is wide and excitable. “You’re really going to do something about it?”

“I have to, Bob. I can’t stand to see Lance as he is. He’s  too  melancholy. He’s lost focus, I owe him too much to let it go on like this.”

“Count me in then!”

He says it so casually that Allura is caught off guard. “I’m sorry, what? You’re saying I actually  can  help him from here?”

“Allura,” he says in a way that feels as if she’s about to, as Hunk used to say, ‘get truths handed to her’. “You’re a goddess. You have the power over all of realities,  plural  . If you want to help your boyfriend, you  can .”

Hope surges in her heart, but it feels more like a knife. “Wouldn’t it be catastrophic to abuse this power like that.”

“Not if you do it  just  so,” Bob muses, rubbing his chin.

“You are saying there are loopholes?” This is a concept she’s familiar with at least, thanks largely to the combined influence of both her father and Coran.

“Allura, honey, I’ve been doing this cosmic overseer thing for a long time, I know a trick or two; you’ve participated in one,” he assures her. “If you want to do something, there’s  always  a way; trust me.”

“Then you have an idea?” she presses.

“It’s all in the presentation,” Bob explains, growing more excitable by the moment. “You give loverboy a vision, the more spectacular and emotional the better, say what you want to say and hope it sticks.”

Allura paces, giving her options thought. She wants to remind Lance of his purpose, to lift him up and be hopeful for the future, perhaps even show him what he’s missing on his holiday.

She’s reminded of a reality where a man is visited by ghosts to show him how to care for others (on the same holiday that Earth currently celebrates!), to the benefit of his puppet frog employee.

“I’ve got it!” she says brightly. “There is an Earth ghost story I can model. After four visits surely Lance will understand!”

She plays the reality for Bob and he watches silently, critically (she hopes, she worries the one called Gonzo might be a bad influence on Bob).

“Well,” she asks anxiously, “what do you think?” For the first time since arriving here she feels real hope and joy; she can do something tangible.

A grin grows slowly on Bob’s face. “Allura sweetheart… this is  excellent .” He sniffles and sheds a single tear. “I’m so proud.”

He teleports into her face. “I volunteer for ghost of Christmas Present. Please,” he begs and bows before her, both sets of hands clasped together, “I have prepared for this moment my  entire  existence.”

Allura considers the pros and cons. On one hand, Lance is the last person who would appreciate Bob’s presence. On the other hand, he  would  take notice and listen.

“All right,” she decides. “You’ve been very kind - in your own way,” the intrusive visits, while annoying, forced her to learn her powers, “and have helped me come to terms with my role. I would be pleased to have your assistance.”

“Yes!” Bob cheers, unleashing tons of confetti into the air. Where did that come from?

Bemused, she continues. “I’ll speak to him myself as the ghost of Yet-to-Come. It will be difficult for him to see. I need to find two others —“

Bob throws a brown piece of fabric her way, landing on her head and blocking her sight. “Bob what is this?”

“Your costume!” he proclaims. “You have to keep yourself cloaked; it’s the air of mystery of what might come.”

Allura tries it on. She gives it a good sniff and grimaces. “It’s a bit… stuffy. I’m not sure it’s necessary,” she says while taking it off.

Bob slaps all four hands to his face, as if hit by an unexpected betrayal. “You have to keep yourself hidden! That’s the point of representing an unknown future!”

Allura sighs and puts it back on; the material is heavy, as if burdened with the weight of the future… or past… she can appreciate the symbolism, even if it isn’t to her tastes. “This does not seem like the type of costume I would expect you to keep around.”

“It was prime fashion back in my day! Gotta keep some things of sentimental value.” He winks. “So, any ideas on who you’re going to recruit for this special,” he says as he rubs his hands together.  “Find him a Kaltenecker-wrangler, the kid could use some pointers I think.”

“There are a few possibilities. Would you mind doing a bit of set up for me while I talk to them?” She leans in with a wink, feeling sly. There’s no way Bob would say no to adding some flare in order to get Lance’s attention. “Lance likes the dramatic, he may appreciate it.”

Bob rewards her with misty and soulful eyes. “I’m so glad it was you who became one with the Force.”

Allura blinks, “The what?”

He gives her one of his ridiculously smug grins. “The Force, honey, the quintessence of the universe. We all call it something different.”

Bob poofs out of her realm and just for a moment she relishes in the silence. How she misses the easy chatter with her friends. Bob’s boisterousness is something she will have to get used to, he’s already been kind and patient.

The current reality on display shows Lance alone with Kaltenecker, voicing his latest frustrations and sorrows,

“I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I, girl?” he asks, and receives only a neutral ‘moo’. “You’d be lonely with no one here with you.”

“Hold on, Lance,” she says. “I’ll help you find your purpose.” Her fists clench in resolve. “Even if I am not meant to be a part of it.”

Then she would make sure she was not the bulk of his future, for his sake.

[artificialqueens]

Searching, Waiting, Looking -Ch02- (Trixya) - Pichitinha

A/N: it took me 84 years but I’m back with a second chapter. This is as cliche as the first one, a little bit longer and overall gay. It’s also on AO3 and I’m here on tumblr as @pichitinha

Chapter 2 - We’re all patiently impatient

Trixie makes absolutely sure that she’ll be at least fifteen minutes early to their agreed coffee meeting because the first time she’d met Katya had been the first time she’d been late to anything in ages and she already hates that that’s the first impression she caused. Granted, Katya hardly looks like the type of person that would hold it against her, but that was a fluke, it’s not who she is, and it’s important for her that Katya knows that. So she’ll be her usual Trixie early, ready for anything with her entire schedule planned out for her - both in her brain and in her little planning book where her whole life is stored, really - and wait for Katya if she has to. She doesn’t mind waiting, she’s used to it, but she wants Katya to know what kind of professional - what kind of person - she is.

As she’s crossing the street to the little café they agreed to meet at, though, she can see Katya turning the corner and arriving at the same time. Maybe she also likes to be early to everything. That’s a quality Trixie loves in people, especially those she has to work with, so she hopes it’s true. Katya looks serene, a bit lost in her thoughts, and it tugs a smile to Trixie’s face.

“Katya, hey!” She waves as she’s crossing once she and Katya are close enough that she doesn’t have to shout. Her outfit today is more tasteful - well, it’s less horrific, more normal and fitting for an afternoon out in a coffee shop, but the pattern is still troublesome and Trixie’s really curious as to how she always makes her looks work when they’re actually are super ugly. Maybe she’s just really naturally pretty.

“Oh, hey! You’re early.” Katya hugs her quickly, more of a squeeze with one arm than an embrace, and Trixie can faintly gather the smell of her shampoo, something light and breezy that she can’t really place but that makes Trixie think of dandelions flying in slow motion and that somehow matches the way Katya’s hair dances in the light wind that’s hitting them on the sidewalk. It’s poetic, almost, and it widens her smile a little.

“I usually am, yesterday was a complete rare event, I swear.” Trixie feels the need to explain herself, for some reason she really wants Katya to be assured of her personal qualities.

Katya merely raises both her hands as if in surrender. “Hey, I’m not the time police. It’s fine. Let’s go in, I really need a coffee.”

They find an empty square table at the back of the café where the light isn’t great - which explains why most of the students in the place are crowded at the tables at the entrance where the sun is peeking through the window - but it’s quiet and there’s space to spread sheets on the surface and it’s not on the way to anything so there shouldn’t be people walking by. Katya orders a black coffee, Trixie sticks with a tea, and soon they’re seated in silence and Trixie wonders where the hell one starts planning a wedding.

(She’d googled it, of course, for hours the previous night. She’s still lost, though. She has no idea what she’s doing. But she’s doing it anyway.)

“So,” Katya looks just as lost as she is, but she’s still very joyful. “How about we play a bit at our actual jobs of pressing a button in a camera and throwing flowers around in a room before we dive into, you know, planning an entire wedding from beginning to end with zero experience?” She places both her elbows at the table as she speaks, rests her head on her hands and opens a very large but clearly dry smile as she finishes her sentence, and Trixie can’t help the laugh - or rather scream, as her friends have complained she does - that escapes her throat. She looks very cute like that, younger somehow with the two pigtails she has adorning her face, and Trixie can see in the hollows of her cheeks the coat of foundation she’s wearing.

“Yeah, ok, that’d be good.” She smiles and settles comfortably into her chair. Katya is as easy to talk to as Sasha had mentioned. “I do more than throw flowers around a room though, sometimes there are ribbons.”

“Oh my, how could I forget the ribbons!”

They laugh together and both start digging papers and photos out of their portfolio bags. They turn to each other, each with a huge stack of things at hand, and both giggle again.

“You go,” Trixie offers, settles her things on the empty chair next to her and watches as Katya spreads a few simple wedding pictures on the table.

Trixie’s barely glanced at them but her jaw drops immediately.

“Ok, so these are some weddings I did where the theme was like fall, which is kinda boring if you ask me, but anyway. So each was with a different decorator and idea, of course, but this is a type of photo I always like to get with the couple no matter what type of wedding it is and I think it translates well, no matter what’s going on around them. What do you think?”

Katya has her eyes on the photos as she speaks, her eyes fidgeting over them as if she is nervous, but now as she asks Trixie the question she can feel her eyes on her, questioning. She doesn’t look at them, though, can’t tear her own eyes away from the raw emotion that’s displayed on the photographs on the table. The scenery is different for all of them, the colors matching in the pastel and hazel fall setting but different in every other aspect, and the poses each couple is in also differs - there’s a man and a woman locked on an embrace, their faces almost touching but their eyes closed, expression serene, and there’s one with two men, one hugging the other from behind with his head buried on his neck, their eyes also closed and happy little smiles, and the others all follow the embrace and eyes closed pattern, but in different ways, different expressions, different everything.

Except for the feeling. Trixie isn’t sure how she does that - how she gets the couple to portray exactly what she has in mind, even - but she feels pure and unadulterated contentment when looking at each and every one of them. She feels calm, in peace, and a little bit in love herself - with what she doesn’t know, but she feels it.

Sasha wasn’t lying when she praised Katya’s work. She has no words.

“I… these are phenomenal, Katya. Like, truly magnificent.”

“Oh, please.” Katya waves her hand, makes light of the situation, but a quick glance is enough for Trixie to notice the faint blush on her cheeks. It’s adorable, really.

“I’m serious, there’s so much emotion in these. How do you do that?”

Katya shrugs sheepishly, lets her fingers roam the pictures as if she’s reminiscing.. “I don’t know. I just… that’s why I became a photographer, you know? It was never about photographing something but rather what that photograph would mean. Does that make sense?”

Weirdly, it makes all the sense in the world to Trixie. That’s why she never sold herself as a wedding decorator per se but ended up doing those almost exclusively. She doesn’t know the couples, doesn’t follow their lives afterwards to know if it worked of if they got divorced the week after, but there’s just something when she’s decorating a room for a wedding, when she knows that the day will be important, even if briefly, even if only then, that the people in there will be at their happiest for a couple of hours at least, it just severely beats down decorating a room for a company fifteen year anniversary.

“It does.” Trixie sighs. “It really does.”

*

They spend another half hour looking over Katya’s pictures, Trixie’s intent on analyzing every single one carefully resulting in several minutes spent in every set of new photos that Katya displays. Trixie can’t help it, really, she’s beyond amazed with Katya’s talent. And she doesn’t seem bothered, on contrary, seems flattered and even a bit embarrassed at Trixie’s clear awe when looking at the pictures. She keeps pointing out details, describing what feelings she gets from each, and every time Katya seems a bit surprised at how well Trixie reads what she meant to show. Trixie’s proud of herself, if she’s honest.

“We make a great pair,” Katya mentions lightly at yet another one of Trixie’s observations, this time on the last set of photos she has to show, and Trixie feels the corners of her lips tugging into a grin before she can even process it. The words sound nice.

“I’m not saying we don’t, but your pictures are so clear. You’re really talented, anyone would get what your goals are.”

Katya shakes her head, but doesn’t let her smile disappear completely. She looks so pleased and Trixie’s a little pleased with her own self for it. “You’d be surprised.”

Trixie can’t picture anyone looking at what she just looked and not being completely awestruck. Katya’s talent is clear in every colors she uses and to think that people might not see that is mindblowing. “Some people are really dumb.”

“Ugh, stop with the complimenting already, it’s gross!” Katya swats Trixie’s hands away as she jokes, her eyes shining as she gathers her things to put them back in her bag. Trixie laughs at the cute grump face she makes and moves to get her own pictures. Katya seems absurdly interested. “Yes, show me your talents now.”

“Before you see anything you should know that I have unfortunately never had a photographer that could capture my ideas as I wanted them to be captured so don’t judge me too hard.”

Trixie isn’t usually shy about her work - she’s a good decorator and she knows it - but now that it’s her time to share her work her brain is haunting her with everything Katya just showed her - beautiful, amazing works of art -, and it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed.

Katya merely looks at her like she’s grown an extra head. “Uh, I’m a photographer? I’ll be able to tell that the photographer did a bad job, don’t worry.”

Trixie’s heart swells with her plain confidence that whatever she sees will be the photographer’s fault, and Trixie hopes briefly that she’s right, that none of the photos she brought - although chosen very carefully to share her talent - have any of her mediocre decorations, where the time was too little, or the theme too strict, or the couple too unhelping.

Trixie starts with her outdoor wedding photos, knows it’s a bit irrelevant given Shea and Sasha actually have a closed hall, but she loves them and their simplicity and the fact that her decorations have to match the existing nature; and she really wants Katya to see what she’s capable of - what she knows she’s capable of. After what she’s seen of Katya’s work, she wants her to think she’s a worthy partner. She knows she is, she just needs to prove it.

Katya grabs the first one off the table and puts it weirdly close to her face, her eyes squinting and roaming through the entirety of the picture, searching. Trixie is oddly uncomfortable, loves the wedding she’s currently scrutinizing and really hopes she doesn’t hate it because if she does, Trixie doesn’t think she’ll have anything else better to save herself.

“That was such a poor choice of lightning for this photo. They totally missed how a color gradient could have formed with the flowers and the sunset in the back.”

Katya moves to show her, places her finger on the middle of the frame where the intersection between the flowers and the sky is, but Trixie doesn’t look, she doesn’t have to. She had placed those flowers there strategically, had known that the sun setting in the back would create the perfect colors to follow the line of the flowers if taken from the right angle from the ground at the beginning of the carpet. She’d told the photographer that, several times, up until the point he had outright told her he went to school for this and she didn’t. He never did take the picture she wanted, never immortalized the image she envisioned, and the crappy photo she took on her personal phone is the only proof she has of that.

Now Katya’s pointing that out, after maybe staring at the picture for thirty seconds, and she seems sad at the missed opportunity. Trixie’s heart aches for a moment, because that’s a particular event she’s never really forgotten, was never able to replicate again, and she’s part sad by the confirmation that what she wanted was indeed possible, but mostly happy because Katya gets it. She wasn’t there, she didn’t see it, but she gets it.

“Trixie?” Katya asks with arched eyebrows and Trixie notices she’s been staring at her the whole time, mouth probably agape.

“Sorry, I just- hold on.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and frantically looks for the picture she took that day. She had an older phone, then, but she’s saved it through all the months and always has it in her gallery. “Bare in mind that I am not a photographer and this was taken with an old iPhone, ok?”

Katya nods even though she seems lost, and takes Trixie’s phone.

“Oh!” Katya stares at the phone for several long seconds, and then the right side of her lips tugs into a cute side smile, content. Trixie’s heart soars. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean. That was wicked smart, Trixie.”

Trixie can feel herself blushing, readjusts a bit on her chair as she feels warmth spreading all over her face and chest in pride. She never realized how much she wanted to be recognized for that feature that’d been gone unnoticed. “Thanks. I’ll never forgive the photographer for not capturing it.”

Katya nods in agreement, eyes still on the crappy picture on her phone. “It truly is a shame. Maybe next time you do something like this you can invite me to take pictures?”

“Yes!” Trixie finds herself nodding before Katya has even finished speaking, her reply perhaps more enthusiastic than necessary. “I think you’re right, we make a great pair.”

Katya finally gives her back the phone, stares at her again like her entire focus and attention are on Trixie and she can practically feel the weight of it. “We do.”

*

“Ok, so that’s basically it, right?” Katya asks staring up and down the page on her notepad where she and Trixie made a list of everything they have to do for the wedding - well, everything they think they have to do. They looked at several websites and discussed each item to see its real relevance and added a few of their own - are there oddly specific photography and decoration items? Yes - and currently they have an entire written page consisting of no less than seventy-four items.

“Basically,” Trixie snorts. “Yeah, I guess that’s basically it.”

Katya smiles and gives a little laugh, puts down the notebook with a sigh as she leans back on her chair and stretches. Trixie can see a tiny part of her stomach, then, and it’s lighter than her arms but tanner than her face and it’s fully toned. She averts her gaze when Katya speaks again, “So where do we start?”

“By moving to Mexico and pretending we never agreed to any of this?”

Katya’s laugh is loud this time and it fills the entire room and it is undeniably adorable. Trixie can’t help but smile in return. “Good plan,” Katya replies when she manages to stop, leans on the table still completely focused on Trixie. She hasn’t stopped smiling yet. Trixie wouldn’t ever stop smiling if she had her teeth, she thinks.

“I don’t know, there are definitely lots of things to do and we don’t even know the date they’ll get yet. Which, of course, is number one on the list. We don’t have a lot to work on right now.”

“Let’s discuss the couple then, maybe we’ll get some ideas. Tell me about you and Shea, how long have you known each other?”

Trixie feels her smile dropping for a second before she puts it right back on. She loves Shea, she’s been her best friend for years, but she doesn’t like discussing their friendship, especially with someone she just met, no matter how fast and easily they hit it off, even if they’re someone who knows and loves Shea as well.

“I met Shea back when we both still lived in Chicago. When I decided to move there from Milwaukee my friend Kim told me she had a spare room that she and her roommate needed to rent, so there I went. Her roommate was Shea and we became friends very fast. The three of us were inseparable.”

Katya raises her eyebrows, seems weary. “What happened to the third friend?”

“Oh, she’s fine. She still lives in Chicago so we don’t see each other all that much. But we talk everyday, I’m sure she’ll be the maid of honor.”

Trixie stops talking then, feels like she’s given pretty much all of the important details - what else could she say? Katya is still looking at her like she expects more though, and there’s a few uncomfortable silent seconds where neither says anything and both look uncertain.

But Katya recovers quickly, clears her throat and takes it upon herself to share. “So, I’m Russian.”

“Oh?” Trixie isn’t sure where she’s going with this, but she’s glad for the change of subject.

“Yeah. I mean, technically. I was born there but my parents moved to Boston soon after that. But anyway, I met Sasha in Russian 101 in college.”

“Why would you take Russian? Why would Sasha take Russian?”

“She didn’t, she was the TA. I did because I figured it would be an easy A. It was, but that’s neither here nor there.” She makes a dismissive motion with her hand and Trixie laughs at her sly grin.

“You cheated, you mean.”

“They never said a fluent person couldn’t take the entire language curriculum. French and Russian awarded me with an honors degree, thank you very much.”

“Cheating,” Trixie insists.

“Loophole,” Katya replies, a giggly sound marking her sentence. Trixie giggles with her. “But, anyway, we’ve been friends ever since.”

“Was she stupid smart at school, too?” Trixie asks, has always wondered what Sasha was like in college. If she was anything like she pictures, effortlessly good at everything and often praised, Trixie thinks she would have been impossibly jealous had they studied together.

“I don’t think Sasha knows how to be anything other than stupid smart, honestly.”

Trixie chuckles, nods for lack of what to do. “Yeah, I figured.”

There are a few seconds of silence in which they each finish their now cold beverages and Katya takes the opportunity to change her expression to completely serious for the first time.

“Do you… hm, do you like Sasha? Like as a partner for your best friend?”

Trixie feels her jaw dropping instantly, sits up straighter at the shock of the words - or rather her tone. She sounds convinced the answer is actually no. Granted, Trixie has several unresolved personal issues that may or may not have a side effect on how she thinks of Sasha sometimes, but at the end of the day Sasha has been a constant presence in her life for the past three years and she’s been a really good friend and a perfect match for Shea. Trixie genuinely loves her and she really hopes that she doesn’t give off the wrong vibe.

“Oh my god, yes! I adore her. Did she say something? Does she think I don’t?”

“No, no, no! Sorry, Sasha likes you a lot. You just made a face, just now. I thought… I misinterpreted, sorry.”

“Oh.” Trixie doesn’t know how to explain it. She can’t find the proper words when she herself isn’t sure yet of why she sometimes feels the way she does. So she takes the easy road. “Single’s jealousy, I guess.”

“A wedding decorator who wants to get married? Groundbreaking.”

Trixie scream laughs again, swats Katya’s arm lightly. “Shut up!”

*

“So, is she mad as a hatter or what?”

Trixie and Shea are seated as comfortably as it’s possible on Shea’s ridiculously old couch, the one she’s been saying for over a year she was going to replace and now she won’t because she and Sasha will buy a new one when they move in together after the wedding. They each have a box of chinese food and they are halfway through them when Shea asks about her meeting with Katya.

“She most definitely is. We actually hit it off pretty well.”

“You did?” She raises her eyebrows, seems surprised at that.

“Yeah? Why? I wouldn’t peg her as someone difficult.”

“Oh, she isn’t. I’m surprised by you.”

Trixie kicks her on the shin as she scream laughs. “You bitch!”

Shea laughs out loud, throws her head back for good measure, and Trixie cuckles to herself. She wonders briefly how it’ll be between them once Shea gets married. She wonders if the next however many months they’ll have before the wedding will be like a countdown of last moments like this. The thought leaves a lump on her throat and she tries really hard to force it down with her wine.

“I’m kidding, I’m glad you hit it off. She’s a good friend to have, she’s the most selfless person you’ll ever meet and I’m marrying Sasha.”

“Wow. Is it a Russian thing? It doesn’t sound Russian. She’s as selfless as a Russian. Nah.”

Shea smiles mischievously and places her empty container on the table, picks up her glass of wine. “Wow, you already know she’s Russian? It took me three months.”

Trixie rolls her eyes, is not surprised at all by Shea’s comment and has no doubt about where she’s going: there’s nothing Shea likes more than trying to set Trixie up. Anyone, anytime, anywhere.

“We were discussing how we met you guys. Because we’re planning your wedding. We’re business partners.”

“Sounds kinky.”

Trixie gets up then, fake exasperation. “Oh my god.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m joking!” Shea laughs and moves to grab Trixie’s arm, pulls her back to sit on the couch. “She’s a catch though, if you’re interested. And she’s gay.”

“Much better than last time when you tried to set me up with your straight coworker, I’ll give you that.”

“She’s not straight, she’s pressured by society’s heteronormativity and she’ll realize that soon enough, give it a year!”

Trixie rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Ok,ok!” She surrenders with a motion of her arms, light smile on her lips. “Tell me about my wedding then. Did you plan it all already? Can we do it this Saturday?”

“Yep, in fact we have already reserved the dumpster down the street.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely. How-” Shea stops talking when her phone lights up on the coffee table, Sasha’s name and photo on the screen. “Uh, sorry.”

Trixie dismisses her. “Go ahead.”

Shea gets up to answer the phone on the other room and Trixie takes these few minutes to breathe. She finishes her wine, makes the last sip turn to three as she stares at the apartment that Shea’s lived in since she moved to California a few months after Trixie. It’s familiar to her, like in sitcoms where it’s always the apartment of one of the friends that becomes the point. Kim always stays there when she’s visiting and so does Trannika even if she visits less. Pearl is there constantly and she always has Violet with her and no one is sure why they go to Shea’s place when it’s the furthest and not the biggest, but it’s their thing now, she guesses.

She doesn’t want to be that friend, the best friend in the Bridesmaids movie that gets jealous and bitter and ruins everything because she can’t get a hold of her emotions, but it’s hard when it feels like the last solid thing she’s managed to maintain is going to fall apart. Shea’s friendship is the one thing she managed to keep after all the turmoils in her life - leaving her family in Wisconsin, leaving her friends in Chicago, leaving a string of relationships that she wasn’t able to save everywhere she went. All her friends are married or in a relationship or some even happily single and Trixie still struggles with the ghosts of all her past girlfriends haunting her. She’s not old but she is getting older, and she hates the feeling that she’s stuck while everyone else passes her by. While life passes her by.

She gets up from the couch and grabs all the boxes and dishes to clean the place a little bit, tries to ground herself to the reality of the now and to convince herself that she’s overreacting and things will be fine. Kim lives almost on the other side of the country and their friendship is still one of the strongest bonds Trixie has. She’ll be fine with Shea having a wife. A wife that Trixie knows and likes and is friends with.

Shea is happy and that’s all that matters. It is.

“So Katya thinks you’re ‘one of the most talented people I’ve ever met’, quote, and seems very infatuated by you, says Sasha.” Shea says when she enters the kitchen and finds Trixie pouring herself some more wine, leaving just enough on the bottle for Shea to get half a glass.

“Sasha did not say that.”

“Ok, that’s my interpretation of what Sasha said.”

Trixie rolls her eyes. “You can’t expect me to date every single person you’ve ever met, Shea.”

“I wouldn’t keep trying if you dated one! You’ve been single for like five hundred years, Trixie, you gotta get out there!”

“It’s been like less than a year.”

“Potato, potahto. But anyway, she seemed really impressed with your work, Sasha says she’s looking forward to working with you.”

There’s still some sort of innuendo in Shea’s voice, but Trixie ignores it in lieu of the compliment, smiles despite herself. She can’t help the giddy feeling in her chest at the praise. She loves what she does and she loved Katya’s work and she doesn’t necessarily need validation but she loves that she got it, especially from her. “Me too! Her photos were mindblowing, she’s amazing. Your wedding’s gonna be, like, the best wedding ever made.”

Shea smiles back, seems happy at the prospect, but then she sighs a little. “I know that you’ll be the best decorator in the seven realms and that my wedding is gonna be the most beautiful in all of the lands, but I’m still sad you won’t be my maid of honor.”

Trixie sips on her wine at that, tries to find the right words to reply.

She’s sad too. But it’s better this way.

“You’ll forget about that as soon as you see how magnificent the hall will look.”

“I can’t wait. We’ve decided on a date, by the way. It’ll be in six months.”

“Oh.” Trixie’s not sure how to respond. Six months isn’t that close but she kind of thought they might wait for another year or so. “Already?”

“I know it’s a bit tight for the planning, but you know we don’t want anything too big, right? We’ll make it work, don’t worry.”

Trixie nods, smiles a bit as she pours a tiny bit more wine. The planning. Right. That’s why she’s surprised, because the closer it is the less time she has to plan.

“Of course we will, I’m amazing at what I do.”

“You are a conceited little country gal, that’s what you are.”

Trixie shrugs and grins into her glass. Her insecurities be damned, she’ll focus on the now. “Maybe.”

[spxderman-s]

my best friend’s hot

requested: by anon 

summary: You’re one of Tom’s best friends, but that’s all you’ve ever been. However, when asked about you during a live interview, maybe that’s not entirely true.

pairings: tom holland x reader 

word count: 1.9k

warnings: some swearing ofc

a/n: i love the best friends & then lovers trope, so this shit was adorable as hell to write and hope you guys like it as much as i do xx  also: if you wanna be on my taglist, click here! 

“Are you nervous?” you asked, straightening Tom’s shirt. 

He rolled his eyes. “We’ve been on this press tour for how long now?”

“Don’t get smart with me,” you chided, giving him a playful push. “I’m just making sure you’ll be alright.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured you, standing up and smoothing a hand over the side of his head. “Just as long as you and Harrison don’t make screwy faces at me behind the camera.”

“No promises,” you grinned at him, and ushered him towards the stage. “Go on--they’re waiting for you.”

It wasn’t unusual for you to be this attentive to him before an important interview--in fact, it wasn’t unusual for you to be this attentive to him at all. Tom, Harrison, and you had all been three peas in a pod since you were children, and as Tom’s acting career skyrocketed within the last few years, you were absolutely bursting with pride. Every chance you got, you boasted that the new Spider-Man was your best friend.

The press tour for the new movie was well underway. Countless interviews, premieres, conventions: every single one of them you were there with Harrison, supporting Tom. Today, he had scored an all exclusive, live questionnaire with Entertainment Weekly.

You joined Harrison offstage to watch from behind one of the cameras. Tom glanced in your direction, and you flashed him a smile and a thumbs-up.

The stage manager signaled they were going live in five, four, three, two….

“So,” the interviewer began, shuffling her index cards in front of her. “Let me start off by saying that we are so honored to have you here today.”

“Thank you so very much!” Tom replied back, and you noticed his hands folding tightly in his lap, shifting his position. He was nervous. “I’m very honored to be here.”

“Is he feeling alright?” you murmured to Harrison, who had a matching concerned expression on his face.

“He might have eaten something that isn’t agreeing with him,” he whispered back, watching the interview continue, crossing his arms. “We’ll ask him once we get a break.”

You nodded in agreement, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“To get an inside look at your personal life, we’ve got a few questions from your fanbase that were sent to us, would you like to answer some of them?” the interviewer asked, smiling.

You knew Tom loved answering questions his fans asked, and it showed as his face lit up with excitement. “Oh, absolutely!”

“Alright, our first one is from Cara in New Jersey: what is your favorite thing to do in your spare time?”

“Sleep,” Harrison quietly joked to you behind his hand. You stifled a laugh.

“Probably going to the gym,” Tom answered, rubbing his chin. “Or sleeping.”

“Next is from Tabitha, in Florida: how is Tessa doing?”

Tom laughed, and leaned back in his chair--seemingly more relaxed. “She’s doing very well--I miss her very much. It makes me so happy that you guys ask about her.”

“Our last one for now is from Devin, in California,” the interviewer read from a card. “Is there anything going on between you and [Y/N]?”

The sound stage fell quiet for a moment. Your mouth fell agape behind the camera, and Harrison couldn’t contain his giggling. Tom shifted in his chair again, his left leg beginning to bounce nervously. God, you knew he was terrible at answering questions about girls--and you never once expected him to be asked about you.

“[Y/N]’s--ah--great,” he cleared his throat, turning a deep shade of scarlet and trying to hide it by laughing casually. “We’re really good friends.”

The interviewer leaned forward with an arched brow. “That’s all?”

You elbowed Harrison next to you to get him to stop snickering. 

Tom scratched his head. “I might as well be honest, right?”

Suddenly, your heart was beating so fast you were afraid it would leap right out of your chest and run off. As you watched Tom with your mouth still hanging open, you turned a matching shade of crimson. You guys were just friends--there was never any kind of possibility of something going on, you were just close. Unless….did he have feelings for you that you were blissfully unaware of?

“[Y/N] is….she’s very special to me,” Tom was saying, his tone and expression suddenly very serious. “We’ve been best mates since we were kids, and she’s--she’s always been by my side. I cherish her greatly.”

Tom’s eyes met your own after he spoke, and for a moment--it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Holding your gaze, he was glowing in front of you, this light washing off of him, while everything around the two of you seemed to grow dimmer in his presence. His deep brown eyes burned with a tidal magnetism that held you frozen in place. All you could do was stare at him, this person who had been by your side almost all your life, someone who you never bothered to give a second glance. But now--you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

But then he cleared his throat and shifted his attention back to the interview. You blinked in shock, wondering just what the hell passed between you two.  

“I need some air,” you muttered to Harrison, and you didn’t wait to hear his reply. You disappeared from the studio, and slipped out of a back door and into the chilly winter air. Your breath was visible in the alley as your teeth began to chatter, pulling the thin sweater tighter around your shoulders. Your cheeks felt like they were burning, and you leaned against the brick wall and closed your eyes. But as you stared at your eyelids, all you could see was that look Tom had given you: it was almost like he was silently screaming something at you.

The studio door opened beside you. Looking up, you saw Harrison peeking around it, frowning. “Are you alright?” he asked.

You exhaled, watching your breath disappear into the air. “Does Tom have feelings for me?”

Harrison was silent, and you heard him audibly sigh. “I think you better ask him yourself.”

But you didn’t. Harrison had urged you to come back inside where it was warm, and the two of you finished watching the rest of the interview. The remainder of it had gone smoothly, routine questions about the film, upcoming projects, and if he could leak something from Infinity War. The car ride back to the hotel was silent, you were crammed in between the two boys. Tom stared out of his window without saying a word, while Harrison kept throwing implicated glances towards you, to which you fervently shook your head.

Once the three of you were back in the safety of your hotel room, you collapsed on your bed and ran your hands over your face. You could hear the two boys talking quietly in the other room, and you wanted to cover your face with a pillow and scream. Why was this such a complicated matter to approach?

“Hey,” you heard Harrison’s voice. Sitting up, you saw he was poking his head into your room. “I’m going to hit the gym for a little while--you should say something to him.”

You didn’t reply, but you gave him a reluctant nod. He disappeared from the doorway--you heard him shout a goodbye to Tom, and the front door opened and closed.

“Tom?” you called out, trying to keep your voice level.

“Yeah?” he replied from the other end.

You rolled off of the bed, and quietly walked into his room. He was lying diagonally across his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, eyes closed. As you tentatively seated yourself at the foot, you clasped your hands tightly in your lap. “We need to talk.”

“Do we?” he asked, and you wanted to punch the sarcasm right out of him. You faced him now, hands balled into fists.

“What did earlier mean?” you demanded, and he opened his eyes and gazed lazily at you.

He sat up, running a hand through his curls. You resisted the urge to reach out and fix them.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he said bluntly.

An odd silence blanketed the two of you as you processed his words.

“Are you being serious?”

He gave an irritable scoff. “Yes, you div. I’m serious.”

“Since when?”

“I don’t know. A while.”

You didn’t say anything after that. You nervously pulled at a lock of hair, trying to figure out what to do.

“You don’t have to love me back,” Tom filled the silence. His voice had taken on a softer tone, and your eyes locked with his. “I know what you’re thinking. You always tug on your hair when you’re stressed.”

“I don’t,” you protested, dropping your hand into your lap. “I just—I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” he repeated, frowning. “Why?”

“I mean, look at you,” you gestured to him. “And look at me.”

He groaned, and rolled into a seated position. “Can I put all my cards on the table, please? Just so that everything is out in the open and we can do whatever from there.”

“Okay,” you spoke quietly.

Tom rubbed the palm of his hand, another one of his nervous ticks you knew. “Aside from Harrison, you are one of the only people who stayed true to me when my acting took off. You didn’t change, you stayed the same—the fun-loving, intelligent, beautiful lass that I grew up with. You know everything about me: what makes me happy, what makes me angry, all my favorite foods and movies and songs. And you do everything without ever expecting a single thing in return.” His hands stilled, signifying he had acquired a little more confidence. “I think I fell in love with the beauty of your soul.”

“Come here,” you whispered, taking one of his hands. You stood up, faced him, and swallowed back the tears brimming in your eyes. “Thomas Holland, you might be one of the most romantic assholes I’ve ever known.”

And you kissed him, your fingers lacing around the back of his neck, feeling the soft curls at the nape. Taken by surprise, a moment passed before he kissed you back, a content sigh escaping him as his arms snakes around your waist and he held you tighter to himself. Kissing him was like laying on a grassy field and watching the clouds rolling by—soft and sweet and gentle, but also like the calm before the storm. You sensed a darker, more lustful power behind his kiss, and it sparked a jolt of excitement through your body as you wondered what it would be like for him to release that power.

“Jesus,” he breathed against your lips as you both came up for air, still locked in each other’s arms.

You bit back a grin. “What do you say we go for a walk and get something to eat?”

“After a kiss like that—I’m not really interested in food.”

You pulled away from him and smiled. “We’ll get there, unless you don’t want to take this relationship slow.”

It was his turn to smile, and it was positively radiant. “So you want to give this a shot?”

“Only if you’ll have me.”

He kissed you again—quicker, but still sweet. “I wouldn’t ever think twice about saying no.”

tagging: @tronnoristheotp @nedthegay @i-saved-me @theweirdowithablogo @skymoonandstardust @timemngmtoptimisationproblems @thumper-darling @holywinchesterness @grabyourpolaroidandmyhand @ketterdame @tonight-couldbeforgettable @dimplesandcutesmiles @terrashrone @leorai-lemony-lewa @yoinkpeter @spider-boo-5 @elizzabeth21 @multi-parker @rvrdxle @gaiasambuci @bisexualmomfriend @1022bridgetp @erule @tommysdarlin @penguinlover-7 @dangerousluv @stephie-senpai @emmaamalie @fairydustparker @5shadesofcool 

[theinkquiry]

Popular | Chapter 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Avenger!Reader

Prompt: Tony has made a bet to see who could end up with the most fans, out of the Avengers, by the end of the month. Bucky takes it just to piss Sam off and Reader really wants to prove that she isn’t the least popular. Bucky and Reader team up to be a fake couple in order to beat the other Avengers, agreeing to split the prize at the end. Will it all work out?

A/N: I really don’t know why I picked Clint, but I swear I don’t have him. He’s just very…fitting for the following scenarios. Enjoy that Serious Bucky™ gif.

Warnings: It’s fluffy until it’s suddenly not. Clint gets the short end of the stick.

Series Masterlist

Clint’s Bad Day

Trouble brewing in Avengers Tower? Our undercover team caught never before seen exclusive shots from the photoshoot the team had just a week back. What the cameras didn’t show was the drama that was happening between superstar couple Bucky Barnes and Y/N L/N behind the scenes! Our photographers first caught Bucky making eyes at another girl on set. Experts and theorists both agree that this could mean signs of an affair.

 Either way, this did not sit well with his girlfriend. Y/N was quick to see that her boyfriend was not paying her the fullest of attention. Jealous much? Not soon after, the two quickly started arguing. As seen in the photos, arguing began not long after the end of Bucky’s shoot. He seems to be going on the defense but quickly takes the offense after Y/N pushed a few wrong buttons. It looks like these two are just a few stops away from Splitsville…

“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more.” You slouch down into the sofa and cover your face with your hands. How could this happen?

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Those stupid gossip columnists don’t know what they’re talking about.” Wanda carefully patted your back.

Everyone had gathered once more for the score reveal. It was almost halfway through the competition, and you were already losing what you had gained. This time around, you were at the number four spot before, but now it had fallen. Bucky wasn’t faring much better. It was actually kind of hard to tell which one of you was on top. Your two scores kept alternating between the seventh and eighth spot

When everyone looked to Tony, the man only shrugged. “You two are being tweeted about so much, I think the machine is having a hard time keeping up and seeing which ones are actually positive. Bottom line is, you both have a lot of supporters and a lot of haters.”

“I can’t believe they did this without our permission!” Bucky slammed his fist down on the table. Everyone jumped a bit when the wood looked like it was about to give. Your heart sank at his realization of what he could have done. “I-I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s not your fault, Buck. Those reporters are taking all of this way out of context. There wasn’t any audio, video, or even eye-witnesses!” You point out.

“Who even let this anonymous camera guy onto set anyway?” Nat glared at Tony. “You said you knew everyone there.”

Tony held a finger up. “I said I knew the people from the company. I am not responsible for these two lovebirds getting caught at a bad time.” Tony scooped up the article and briefly scanned it. “This sure is a pickle..”

“Yeah, we got that part already,” Steve snapped. He sighed and went back to consoling you and Bucky. “It’s not your fault, guys. We’ll just..hold a conference or whatever to clear it all up.”

Nat grimaced. “Not a good call. Addressing this kind of gossip only makes it worse. You need to be clear, short, but not act totally heartless.”

“So you except for the last part,” Clint snorted. Nat threw a glare his way, along with a copy of the magazine. “Hey, I was just joking!”

You looked over the article again. It was the same four to five pictures on every single website, blog, and paper. Bucky being flirty with the camera woman, and then you looking upset. You exhaled and tried to think of ways to salvage what was left of the relationship. You didn’t even realize you were squeezing Bucky’s hand whilst reading until he gave a squeeze back.

“Hm?” You lifted your head up, momentarily distracted from the incriminating paragraphs.

Bucky gave you a weak smile. “I may be strong, but I think I’d prefer if you didn’t break my last real hand.” You looked down and saw that you gripped his hand to the point where it was turning a bit red.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry Bucky. It’s just-” You let go and sigh deeply. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand how a few out of context pictures could blow up into such a big scandal. A phony one too. The one day where the Kardashians decided to stop being for once.”

It was draining, hearing badmouthing and lies from almost every outlet imaginable. You were all over TV, newspapers, the internet, even trending number two on Twitter. You were only beat out because a rumor spread that Guy Fieri had died from flavor poisoning (#flavordrowned). You and the other Avengers spent the last hour talking about the romance rumors. You and Bucky have even made a little nest on the couch to cope- complete with comfort blankets, ice cream, and Steve.

“I just want this to go away,” you mumbled into Bucky’s shoulder. You frustratedly threw a magazine, aiming it at nowhere. Unfortunately for Clint, he got hit again.

“Guys, I was just joking!” He rubbed his head. “Why were you two arguing in the first place?”

Uh oh. You and Bucky froze up, looking at each other with frightened eyes. The team was staring intently now. Why was it that you were always being cornered at the exact same place? The universe clearly was not in favor of you getting your new penthouse sweet penthouse.

“Yeah, why were you arguing in this picture? It’s probably not what the papers say it is, but Y/N does really look upset in this one,” Nat observed.

Tony rested his head in his hands, eagerly leaning forward to hear the story. Even Steve stopped to look you both in the eye. “Well?”

“I-it is really stupid,” you mutter.

Bucky nodded in agreement. “Not something we’re proud of.” That part was the truth. At this rate, neither one of you were too happy about the false relationship. If you were caught now, you might as well be stuck living in your overcrowded room forever. You looked at Bucky, who was equally nerve-wracked. Suddenly, the blankets over you felt way too hot.

“Come on. It can’t be that bad,” Wanda encouraged. Actually yeah, it can. You took a deep breath. Maybe if you just kept denying stuff, they’ll stop pressing on. Bucky seemed to be a better liar than you were.

“It was because we couldn’t agree on where to go out, okay?” Bucky finally admitted. “We were both craving something different and didn’t feel in the mood to compromise. That was it. It was stupid, we didn’t end up going out anyway, and we made up three seconds after the last photograph.”

Hah. You bet everyone felt stupid after asking that question. “Seriously? Over where to eat lunch?” Clint held in a laugh.

“I was on my period, okay?” You snapped. That shut the guys up pretty quickly. Nat raised her eyebrow, but didn’t press on any further. You quickly felt your cheeks heating up and buried your face under more blankets. “This. Sucks.”

You couldn’t see, but you did feel someone (namely Bucky) lift you up in their arms. You weren’t sure if it was because you really needed a hug or if it was just really really nice in general to be lifted like a paper bag by Bucky, but you sure did feel a whole lot better. Especially since you were apparently leaving the room.

“I think Y/N and I better go upstairs. We don’t want someone,” He sounded like he just gave the death eyes, “upsetting us further.”

Your best guess was Clint. Your suspicions were proved correct as a yelp of pain escaped his mouth. “Ow! Come on, I wasn’t being serious! Do you remember a time when I wasn’t the punching bag? Because I sure don’t! Why do we buy so many magazine copies anyway? They’re all online!”

The rest of his complaints were drowned out as the elevator whisked you away to a quieter- and hopefully less violent- place. You let out the fortieth sigh of today and settled for pressing yourself closer to Bucky. Even though it was probably a hundred and five degrees outside, snuggling up in blankets with air conditioning on full blast was the most comforting activity you could name.

You peeked out from where you were hiding to see that Bucky had opted to go to your floor instead of his. You were quite thankful since it meant you didn’t have to leave the pile of blankets currently surrounding your entire body.

“You look like a caterpillar that just refuses to come out,” Bucky commented.

“Why bother when I can stay in here forever. No bad press and no other Avengers. Besides, traveling via super-soldier express is very luxurious,” you state. It was safe here, unlike out there where a flying magazine could hit Clint in the head at any given moment.

“I just can’t believe what’s going on. You were right about the whole flirting thing. I-I’m so sorry. Now I’ve cost us both the win,” Bucky lamented. He gently placed you down on your bed. He laid next to you, arms folded behind his head. There was a crease that ran deep along his forehead, and the smile that you were starting to get used to was nowhere to be seen. You had definitely both seen better days.

“No, it was me. I’m the one who got all up in your face and upset.” You muster up the energy to roll over and onto Bucky so that both of you were covered by the blanket burrito.

“Are you trying to crush me so that you can steal the win?” Bucky’s playful nature started to peek out. You smirked to yourself.

“I still need you to win, remember? I’m trying to be nice and cover you. Do you want the blankets or not?” He shrugs and rearranges them to fit both of you.

“Now I won’t have to tell everyone you drowned via blanket tsunami.” Curse him and his stupidly charming jokes. You were ready to propose a night of hiding and watching old movies when a series of long vibrations started to shake the bedside table. “What is that?”

You look up and grab at your phone. You tug it underneath the layers and watch as your normally quiet screen is lit up with hundreds of Twitter notifications. “Uh oh.”

“What?” Bucky dipped his head in. “What are they doing?”

“Y/N is such a clingy shrew. Bucky is the classic example of unreliable men. Bucky should just dump her and move on, preferably with me. Don’t let anybody steal your man, go Y/N.” You continued to read out tweet after tweet. Sometimes, it was funny. Other times, it was downright uncomfortable. You received threats, degrading name-calling, and even jealous fans. Bucky seemed to be getting just as much hate.

“This is so stupid. I can’t believe they’re talking about us like that.” Bucky frowned, taking your phone from you. “They’re calling me a two-timer now?”

“Ugh. All because you were flirting prematurely,” you said. Apparently, this comment was quite alarming to your dearest fake lover.

“Excuse me?” He sat up, looking very stoic. “I was what?”

“What?” You frowned. “Am I wrong?” He even admitted it early. You didn’t get what his issue was.

“So now you’re blaming me for this?” He gasped. “I thought we agreed it was nobody’s fault.”

“I’m not saying it was. But I do recall that you were the one who started to get all up and friendly with Miss Gorgeous Photographer,” you accused.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you,” Bucky uttered. Your mouth hung wide open in shock. Frankly, you were a little offended. Maybe you were being overdramatic, but he did not just accuse you of being jealous.

You shrugged off the blankets, deciding to face him without the added padding. “Say that again?” It was more of a challenge than a question.

“Just admit that you were jealous. I didn’t go all bug-eyed when you were giggling like idiots with Sam,” Bucky asserted.

“Real mature bringing Sam into this. Remind me again how long your preschool feud has been going on? I don’t have to be jealous of anything. How dare you call me jealous when you were the one who had such a disregard for our agreement! I warned you to keep your eyes away from other women-”

“-which was exactly what gave the photographer enough dirty gossip and ruin our reputations,” he finished angrily. He got up, quite proud of himself for such a flimsy argument. In a rush of pent up rage, you gave him a shove. It probably felt like nothing to a man of that stature, but Bucky somehow stumbled back a bit anyway.

“Real mature,” he spat.

“Yeah? Like telling Sam to wear a giant ‘Loser’ shirt is so mature,” you sneered.

“Why do you keep bringing that guy up? Are you in love with him or something?” Bucky growled.

You felt really warm now, and not because of the blankets. It wasn’t a nice, fluffy warm. It was the hot chili pepper enraged kind. “I’m sick of you and your downright stupid attitude. If anything, you’re the one who has him on your mind twenty-four-seven.”

“You sound like a teenager!” Bucky roared.

“And you act like one!” You shouted back. All this yelling made your heart accelerate really fast. You heaved heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Unrealized tears threatened to spill at any moment. You gaze didn’t waver from Bucky’s. He looked back at you with the same level of furious frustration.

It seemed like you two had nothing left to say to each other. Without another word, not even a sparing glance back at you, he left. The door slammed loudly, but you didn’t bother to check if he actually broke the hinges or not. As you listened to the elevator whir away to another floor, you finally laid back down. How did everything spiral to be so out of control? This was supposed to be fun, not another headache for you to be worrying about. How did Bucky become so mean? When did you become so nasty? All these thoughts began to make your head spin.

You pulled the blankets up higher. It didn’t feel so cozy without another body wrapped around you. It was warm but empty. You closed your eyes, knowing that tomorrow there would most likely be tear stains on your blanket.

Taglist: @agentsinstorybrooke @msiilpl  @just—love@rimuslymoony@mackenziesgalaxy@4babez @max-tro @221bbands@satansknittingclub@cassandras-musings@undiscl0sed-desir3s@aqueenwithoutherkingx@jigglology @starkxpotts  @teenwolflover28@debzybrazy @kindnesswins@soldierplum @greypineapple @winteroses@pickylittlebitch @ravenclaw-geek24 @quicksoldier @zesty-ballerina @writing-soldiers @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @pastelbronagh @lust-for-pan @aya-fay @this-manis-playing-galaga @ria132love @chuckennuggets1213@crazybutconfidentaf @curlycals  @sergeant-james-bbarnes @taylenas2 @therealsweetspawn @saulof-tarsus @sofiaskywalker30

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[softcorehippos]

It’s The Thought That Counts

Pairing: Avengers x Muslim!Reader

Summary: Again, communication is key to a good relationship.

A/N: I want to do something for my muslim readers out there for my comeback, Ramadan Mubarak to my brothers and sisters, happy fasting to you all! (Also, I hope you don’t mind me doing something exclusive like this, I’m just in a celebratory mood and I hope you don’t take offense ❤️)

TW: Mentions of eating disorders

“Hey, Y/N, lunch is ready.” Sam peeked into your room.

You looked up from the stacks of paper on your study, mission reports that needed to be filed later that night.

“Oh, I’ll pass, thank you though.” You smiled before turning back to the papers in front of you.

“Huh, alright then.” Sam closed the door behind him gently before making his way to the dining room, where everybody was already seated.

“Y/N’s not joining us?” Natasha asked as she scooped a portion of braised quail.

Sam shook his head. “Nope, she’s doing her mission report.”

The conversation quickly shifted to whatever shit Clint and Tony got into that week and lunch was ended with a table full of sleepy Avengers, bellies full of tasty food, courtesy of the private chef Tony had graciously provided for the tower.

One by one, everybody retreated to their own space, either to sleep off the food or go do whatever it is that they do for leisure. Free times like these comes rarely for the Avengers, especially lately now that Nazis felt safer to rear their heads in public, causing unnecessary terror and havoc.

You deeply appreciated this day off; it was something that you look forward to so that you can fulfill your religious responsibility. The Holy month of Ramadan fell during that summer, which means the days are longer and the nights are short, which also means, you fast for a longer period of time. Being an Avenger demands you so much physically, which means you can’t carry out your fasting during missions and such, so this time off provided you the perfect chance to do exactly that.

Later that day, when the sun sets, you came out of your room and head straight to the kitchen for Iftar, to eat in order to break your fast. The kitchen was empty when you got there, you start by brewing a hot tea to get your stomach used to working again after an entire day of not consuming anything.

“Hey, didn’t see you all day.” Bucky’s voice caused you to jump, nearly knocking over the pot of hot water.

“Don’t do that!” You playfully smacked his shoulder.

He chuckled an apology. “You makin’ tea? Sweet! Can I have some too?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“I haven’t seen you all day.” He repeated as he slid onto the kitchen island stool.

“Yeah, I was catching up with the reports. I like being productive, you see, unlike some people.” You gave Bucky a cheeky smile.

“Hey, watch it. I spent the entire day fixing that dump of a bike Steve got from the junkyard, I’m staaaaarving.” He whined.

“Well, join me for dinner? I’m just going to head to my room to pray for a bit.” You said, taking a sip of your tea.

“Sure, I’ll be here. Starving. And dying.”

You laughed and flipped him off before returning to your room for your prayer. The team knew about your religious routines and they were very supportive of it, Tony even went above and beyond by having FRIDAY remind you the day’s prayer times. Not even once did anyone from the team ever made it hard for you to conduct anything that relates to your religion, or tease you in any way, and for that you were eternally grateful.  

Not long after you started dinner with Bucky, Sam and Clint joined you, followed by Tony and Steve. During Ramadan, you don’t usually eat much since your stomach had adjusted to the changes in your daily intake, so even after fasting the entire day, you only eat a moderate amount food because your stomach filled quickly.

“Alright guys, I’m gonna head to bed, it’s been exhausting talking to you guys.” You sat up after setting aside your napkin.

“What? It’s only nine!” Tony raised both hands in disbelief.

“Yeah, well, I’m secretly 90 years old, so, I’m going to go to sleep now. Behave children.” You waved your pointer finger at the boys before retreating to your room.

Each morning, you woke up with the intention of following through with your fast, but sometimes in the middle of the day, you would get called for a mission and then you would have to break that fast in order to get the strength you need. So each morning, you woke up a few hours before dawn to eat suhoor, the meal before the fast.

Bleary eyed and barely awake, you dragged your half-asleep body to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of spaghetti and some cut up fruits. You found that the less you eat, the less hungry you get during the day, so you eat a portion enough to fill you up but not too much that you were full.

The tower was silent, so you made sure to make as little sound as you possibly could. Without your knowledge, a floor above you, Tony was still awake with his insomnia in full swing.

The schematics for a new repulsor were laid out in front of him and as he studied it, his right hand grabbed the mug sitting slightly to his right and brought it close to his face, only to realize that it was empty.

Tony groaned and he begrudgingly made his way to the kitchen to make more tea. To say that Tony was surprised to see you, eyes barely opened, sitting on the kitchen island with a bowl of spaghetti, was an understatement. The only thing stopping him from dropping his mug and shattering it into pieces was the thought of waking Pepper up and getting an earful about working overtime, again.

He stood silently by the kitchen entrance, with your back to him, watching you slowly eat the small portion of food you prepared for yourself. Tony felt the need to say something but he refrained from doing so, and slowly retreated back to his lab, thinking that if you were here alone at this hour, chances are you weren’t looking for company.

The next day, Natasha poked her head into your room around noon, asking you to come shopping with everybody. You agreed, simply because you were bored out of your mind sitting in your room and watching TV.

Natasha made you go to an artisanal candle shop where she spent almost a hundred dollars on scented candles and soaps, while Wanda practically dragged you to a more high-end shops where she could blow her birthday gift card Tony had generously given her the month before.

You ended up buying a few stuff as well.

Pepper and Maria made it a mission to go to a gallery to buy some art for their offices, and you made everybody groan when you decided to hit the bookstore, again.

“Oh. My. Gaaaaaaaaahd.” Wanda groaned. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Me too, who would’ve thought going shopping with guys tire me out this much.” Pepper replied with a chuckle.

“It could be the amount of bags you guys are carrying.” You retorted with a cheeky smile.

“Oh shut up, like yours aren’t just as many.” Maria glared playfully at you.

You laughed.

“I could go for a hamburger right now, whadaya say?” Maria asked the group, in which they agreed unanimously.

“I think I’m gonna pass, my arms are going to fall off and my feet are practically sleeping. I’ll just meet you back at the compound.” You smiled at their confused expressions.

“What, no. Come on.” Pepper said.

“No, no, really. I’ll just meet you back there.” You said with a smile before making your way back to the compound.  

You were so exhausted that day, you cleaned a full portion of spinach ravioli when it was time to break your fast.

“Hey, where’s Y/N?” Tony asked the morning after, everybody were sitting quietly around the dining table for breakfast.

“Dunno.” Natasha mumbled.

“She’s not joining us for breakfast?” Tony asked again.

“Dunno.” Natasha said again.

Tony made a grunting noise before sitting down, he had his thinking face on and Bucky noticed.

“Uh oh, that doesn’t look good.”

Tony flipped him off before tapping the table with his fingers. “I think there’s something going on with Y/N.”

Natasha paused mid chew and raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“There’s something wrong with Y/N, I think it’s been going on a while but I’m just beginning to notice it now.”

Bucky and Sam spun in their seat to face Tony with a look that said ‘go on.’

“Two nights ago, I was getting a refill for my tea and I found her sitting on the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of pasta.”

Wanda shrugged. “Well, it won’t be the first time that people eat at unreasonable hours, I got a midnight sandwich last night.”

“She was eating at three in the morning, Wan. She was barely awake.”

Sam made a humming noise. “Funny you should say that, because I haven’t seen her eat in like forever.”

Steve looked at him funny. “What do you mean? She was here–“

“Hah, see? When was the last time she joined us for a meal?” Sam asked Steve.

“I ate with her a few days ago, it was around 7 or 8.” Bucky answered.

“She bailed on us yesterday, during our shopping trip.” Natasha said with a sudden realization. “Yeah, we were having a shopping spree with all the girls and when Maria suggested burgers, she just decided to go home.”

“See, something’s wrong.” Tony said smugly. “Called it.”

“Okay calm down, if she’s really going through something, it’s not something to be glad about.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

The entire table went quiet as they thought about what could possibly be wrong, until Wanda stared at everybody with wide eyes.

“I… I think I know what it is.”

Everybody stared at her, before Steve gently nudged her elbow for her to proceed.

She took a shuddered breath before continuing. “Well, like you said, she doesn’t eat during the day, only when it’s dark out or there’s nobody there, eating at odd hours, and she’s been withdrawing lately, staying in her room all the time…” she paused, “it could be eating disorder.”

Sam leaned back against his seat with wide eyes, while Bucky just clenched his jaw.

“H-how sure are you?” Steve cleared his throat.

“Pretty sure, I mean, I can tell from experience.”

This time, it was Steve who stared at her with wide eyes.

“Oh I’m fine, it was a long time ago, I was young, insecure and had very bad body image issues. I’m fine now. I got help, which is something that she really needs right now.”

Tony nodded. “Yes, yes, I agree. What do we need to do?”

Sharp pains in your stomach woke you up from your nap, you glanced to the clock and groaned, there were still five more hours left of fasting until you can eat. It wasn’t a good day for you, somehow you managed to eat too much during suhoor and woke up immediately feeling starved, then you tried to sleep the hunger off but it didn’t work, so you decided to go out and do something to distract you from your growling abdomen.

You wrapped yourself with your blanket like a cocoon before making your way to the common room, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you found everyone sitting in circle, speaking in hushed voice.

“Well, this is not cool, why wasn’t I invited to this family gathering?” You plopped yourself onto the couch, blanket intact.

Tony was the first to jump to his feet, clearing his throat and acting like he wasn’t just whispering about you the minute before.

“Heya, where have you been?”

The group soon spread out around the living room, but you noticed that none of them actually left.

“Uh, I took a nap.” You eyed everyone warily. “What’s going on?”

Tony shot a look at Wanda and she stepped up, before kneeling onto the carpet. “We, uh, we have something we’d like to discuss with you. Are you up for it?” She said with gentle eyes.

“Yeaaaah? What is this about?” You started to get uncomfortable with everybody staring at you, so you pulled the blankets closer together.

“I just want to let you know, that, even though we have no idea what we’re doing, we’re here for you, every step of the way, don’t you ever think that we’re going to let you go through this alone.” Tony sat next to you, grabbing your hands and squeezing them tightly.

“It’s my fault really.” Your attention turned to Natasha, who was sporting a permanent scowl on her face. “We’re best friends, how I can miss something this big would always be one of my biggest regret.”

“Guys, please, you’re scaring me.” You said with worry, they were all talking but none of them seemed to be talking about what the fuck was wrong.

“Scaring you? What about us?” Bucky snapped as he stood up, you flinched back at his sudden movement. “God! Y/N, you’re–“ he sighed, “you’re beautiful as you are, why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Okay guys, come on, this wasn’t the plan.” Wanda turned around and glared at everyone before turning her attention back to you. “Y/N, we, uh, we’ve noticed lately that you’ve been withdrawing yourself and we’re really worried about you.”

She pulled what you thought were pamphlets and set them gently on your lap. “What ever you need, we’re going to be here, right here.”

Your eyebrows knitted together when you saw what was on the pamphlets. “Guys, what is this?” You held up the one with bright blue lettering that said EATING DISORDER in large fonts.

“It’s just something we gathered up for you.” Steve took his turn to talk. “There are great facilities that you can visit, we already spoke with some of the experts in rehabilitation and–“

“No, no,” you shook your head, cutting Steve off, “what’s this all about? You think I have an eating disorder?”

Wanda took your hand and squeezed them. “I know it’s not something easy to admit, but we’re not judging, we’re just really worried about you, Y/N.”

“Wh–Why would you think that?”

“It’s pretty obvious, part of why I’m fucking furious that I didn’t realize this sooner. You skip on meals, you practically don’t eat anymore and when you do, it’s at three in the fucking morning when nobody’s awake.” Sam muttered angrily, mostly at himself.

You were stunned.

You stayed quiet as you processed everything and you couldn’t help but to start laughing.

“I’m sorry.” You tried covering your mouth to stop the laughing but you couldn’t.  “I’m so sorry. Guys, I know you meant well, but really, this is all just a misunderstanding.”

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N, we understand, it’s not easy–“

“No, no, I mean it, you got this all wrong. I don’t have an eating disorder, okay? I’m fasting.” You smiled fondly at the group of disheveled and broken people around you.

“Fasting.” Tony deadpanned.

“Yeah, you know? The Holy month of Ramadan?”

“Ramadan.” Sam echoed.

“Yeah.” You nodded, feeling a cramp on your face for smiling so much.

“B-but, why didn’t you just say something?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t think that it was worth mentioning? You guys always let me be when it comes to my religious duties so I didn’t see this one as an exception?”

The entire room stared at you like you’ve grown to heads before Natasha breaking the silence with a yell.

“What the fuck!” She threw her hands up in the air and spun around to leave.

You didn’t take offence at it, in fact, you were grinning even wider.

“Oh, well, in that case I guess we should­–uh, we should–“ Tony stammered to the group before you pulled him into a hug.

“I’m very touched at the gesture, though, it’s really nice of you guys to look out for me like that.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“Yeah, well, you’re family, so, it comes with the job.” Steve said, a smile was beginning to form as he shook the tension off his shoulder.

“I, for one, am really glad that I was wrong.” Wanda pulled you away from Tony’s arms and into a bear hug.

“What about you, Buck? You still think I’m beautiful this way?” You teased the former soldier until his was bright red and stalked out of the room.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that! Tell me I’m beautiful!” You shouted as Bucky kept on walking. “Bucky!”

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[krissysbookshelf]

Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek Of: Dress Codes for Small Towns by Courtney Stevens!

As the tomboy daughter of the town's preacher, Billie McCaffrey has always struggled with fitting the mold of what everyone says she should be. She'd rather wear sweats, build furniture, and get into trouble with her solid group of friends: Woods, Mash, Davey, Fifty, and Janie Lee. But when Janie Lee confesses to Billie that she's in love with Woods, Billie's filled with a nagging sadness as she realizes that she is also in love with Woods...and maybe with Janie Lee, too. Always considered "one of the guys," Billie doesn't want anyone slapping a label on her sexuality before she can understand it herself. For Billie—a box-defying dynamo—it's not that simple.  

LEARN MORE

  THE SHORT PART before PART ONE

  That’s the way things come clear. All of a sudden. And then you realize how obvious they’ve been all along. — MADELEINE L’ENGLE , The Arm of the Starfish

  NINE YEARS EARLIER

Three-hundred-year-old oaks were good for two things: hiding from playground fights and kingdom-watching. Billie McCaffrey climbed skyward and settled into a sprawling fork to observe her classmates. Over by the four square concrete slab, Janie Lee Miller sat cross-legged with her nose in a library copy of A Wrinkle in Time. Across the field, Woods Carrington was campaigning for a kickball game. Just below, two third-grade boys, Mash and Fifty, fought over a fourth-grade girl in blue bows and light-pink sunglasses. Other boys swung from the monkey bars while a herd of girls huddled, giggling and happy, around the adults. Their teacher, the center of the girls’ commotion, was dressed in a plain denim jumper and wore a bouquet of smiles. She produced from an ugly black handbag her newly awarded Corn Dolly. “Ooooh,” said the little girls. “Ahhhh,” said other teachers, who asked if they could hold the doll. They treated that decorated corn husk like Billie’s daddy treated a Bible.

Billie oooohed and ahhhhed like everyone else, her voice barely above a whisper. No one even glanced up.

Before the end of that school year, Billie had learned from her daddy that if she wanted friends, she couldn’t stay in tree forks. So she stopped climbing up, up and away, and befriended every boy in her grade by either brute force or voodoo charm. Woods, Billie’s new best friend, claimed it was her kickball skills. By God, that girl could kick a ball farther into Mr. Vilmer’s cornfield than anyone in the class. Even the most competitive boys loved her for it. The girls were a different story. They didn’t quite know what to do with her. And Billie didn’t know what to do with them.

Late summer brought water-gun fights, fishing at the quarry, and biking to and from the dam to skip rocks along the mirrored surface of Kentucky Lake. All this good fortune sparked a happy question from Woods.

“Hey, B, will you come to mine and Janie Lee’s wedding tomorrow?”

Billie chomped on an apple they’d smuggled from Tawny Jacobs’s orchard. Juice ringed her lips. “Do I have to wear a dress? ”

“Nah,” Woods said. “You’re my best man.”

After passing the last bite to Woods and wiping her mouth with her shirtsleeve, she considered his request. Seemed fair. Seemed important. “Sounds good to me,” she said, even though it sounded worse than awful.

“Promise? ” He looked concerned that she might go back to her tree-climbing, avoiding-everyone ways.

“Promise.”

She made the mistake of spit shaking. That night she asked her dad, “Will I go to hell if I break a promise? ” He’d assured her that hell did not work that way. But she didn’t know which way hell worked yet, so she tore up all the notes she’d written asking Woods not to marry Janie Lee.

The next day, Woods Carrington stood behind one of those sprawling playground oaks and wed Janie Lee Miller with a grape Ring Pop and a peck on the lips.

Billie wore her cleanest jeans and stood by Woods’s side.

She looked up to her old perch and thought this friend thing was very hard.

  PART ONE HEXAGONS ARE TRIANGLES

First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do. — EPICTETUS

  1

  I’m waffling on my tombstone inscription today. Elizabeth McCaffrey, born 1999—d. ? R.I.P.: She found trouble. Or. Elizabeth McCaffrey, born 1999—d. ? IN LOVING MEMORY: Trouble found her.

“This is a bad idea,” Janie Lee tells me. Which is her way of saying we’re going to get caught.

“We will not be contained by a grubby youth room and pointless rules,” I reply.

Janie Lee peers down the hallway. There’s no sign of my dad, but her expression indicates she’s voting for retreat. The dingy carpet beneath her feet is patterned with repeating arrows that all point the way back to our assigned sleeping room.

I tickle-poke her in the ribs. She giggles and leans into the tickle instead of away. “I’ll protect you,” I tell her.

That’s enough prompting for her to skitter down the hall with me—two handsome thieves on a wayward mission.

We stand in front of a door labeled Youth Suite 201. It’s 3:12a.m. Janie Lee is wearing a sweet pink sweatshirt, flannel pants, and UGGs, which always make me ugh. I am wearing a camo T-shirt, jeans I stole from Mash last weekend, and combat boots that I found at a local army surplus. Clothes I can sleep in. And, well, clothes I can live in.

Elizabeth McCaffrey, born 1999—d. ? IN LOVING MEMORY: She died in her boots.

I perform the prearranged triple knock.

Davey props open the door, and behind him the rest of our boys offer various greetings. He’s the newest of the gang and we’re all still learning him. There’s an awkward pause while we work out whether we’re supposed to fist-bump or shoulder punch or hug. I up-nod, and that seems to be acceptable enough for him to duplicate.

I turn my attention to the rest of the room. I’ve just noticed that Einstein the Whiteboard is leaning against the mini fridge when something hits me. It’s Woods, tackling me to the decades-old carpet.

“Hello to you, too,” I say from beneath him.

He licks my face like a Saint Bernard and then pretends to do an elaborate wrestling move that I don’t evade. (Even though I could.) Without warning, a two-person dog pile becomes a six-person dog pile. Davey hesitates, then lands near the top. He must be learning us a little. Boys really are such affectionate assholes. I am crushed at the bottom and Janie Lee is half-balanced on top of Davey’s back.

“Love sandwich,” she mouths at me.

It is. It’s not. It’s more. Labeling and limiting something as big as us feels somewhat impossible, but usually we call ourselves the Hexagon. On the account that sixsome sounds kinky and stupid.

“Up! We’re crushing Billie,” Woods says, because he’s always directing traffic.

Fifty farts in Davey’s face in a momentous fashion, and just like that, the jokes begin and the dog pile ends, boys sprawling onto the two couches as if it never happened. I digest the scene as I slouch against the door. Boys. My boys. I’ve been collecting them like baseball cards since third grade.

Woods. He’s not pretty, but he’s stark and golden and green like a cornfield under noon sunlight. Tennis shoes; low-cut, grass-stained socks; ropey calf muscles; blond leg hair; khaki shorts; aqua polo; and an unmatching St. Louis Cardinals hat tamping down floofy blondish-brown curls: he is these things. He is so much more. I know exactly what he’ll look like in thirty years when he’s sitting on our porch drinking peppermint tea.

Davey, elfin and punkish in smeared eyeliner, sits next to his cousin Mash, who looks nothing much like him. Fifty always appears a bit smarmy, and tonight is no exception. His dark hair is oily and he hasn’t shaved in a week. Janie Lee sits slightly apart, cross-legged and petite in a papasan chair. She takes up about as much room as a ghost. Then me. Knees up. Chin up. Happy. Taking their mischief like the gift that it is.

Some lock-ins are for staying up all night and playing shit-tastic games. This one is for parental convenience. The youth group is cleaning up Vilmer’s Barn tomorrow—early prep for the upcoming Harvest Festival—and Dad didn’t want to run a shuttle at six a.m. Tyson Vilmer, barn owner, patriarch of Otters Holt, grandfather of Mash and Davey, will be there waiting with his enormous smile and incredible enthusiasm. Despite the fact that we were supposed to be in separate rooms and asleep by two a.m., I am pretty damn excited to help. Two a.m. bedtime was wishful thinking on my father’s part. We are not true hellcats, but the Hexagon is particularly bad at supposed to when we’re all under one roof.

The other four can’t decide who will open the meeting: Woods or me.

I copy Dad’s southern drawl and say, “Let’s start with glads, sads, and sorries and then say a prayer.” They all laugh, except for Davey, who hasn’t been to enough Wednesday night Bible studies to get the joke. I gesture to the writing on Einstein the Whiteboard. “Dudes and Dudette, I predict this lock-in ends poorly.”

Woods will hear nothing of my prophecy. Einstein is among Woods’s favorite things on the planet—a medium-sized board that technically belongs to the youth group but practically belongs to him. Woods developed leadership skills in utero, and he thinks in dry-erase bullet points. Currently, Einstein says: THINGS TO DO WITH A CHURCH MICROWAVE. Five bullets follow, and most of them look like a one-way trip to a stark-raving Brother Scott McCaffrey, my father.

In the bottom corner, someone has drawn a sketch of a Corn Dolly being lifted on high by a stick figure. They’ve labeled the stick figure Billie McCaffrey, which makes me label them all idiots. The joke is so old it has wrinkles.

A Corn Dolly is only a corn husk that has been folded and tucked and tied into the shape of a doll. In the town of Otters Holt, the mayor handpicks this husk on the morning of the Harvest Festival, which is an annual event the town treats like Christmas-meets-the-Resurrection. The dolly is then assembled and bestowed during the middle of the Sadie Hawkins dance to the most deserving woman of the year.

Hence, the joke.

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” I say, slow clapping.

Woods is positive THINGS TO DO WITH A CHURCH MICROWAVE is suitable 3:15 a.m. material. “You say ends badly. I say ends brilliantly,” he says.

Fifty has an opinion on the matter. “The only thing farfetched is Billie actually winning a Corn Dolly.” He laughs at himself. Too hard. We are often forced to forgive this failing since his facial hair allows him a fake ID, which allows us the beer that comes along with that privilege.

I’m eye-rolling. “You asshole.” Just because it’s true doesn’t mean he needs to say it.

Fifty stands up as if to challenge me while Janie Lee buries her face in the nearest pillow and reminds us that teenagers don’t, won’t ever win the Corn Dolly—Gloria Nix, twenty-three, was the youngest.

I wave Fifty forward with both hands, ready to wrestle him down.

“Back to Einstein,” Woods announces before Fifty and I go for a real row. This may have happened a time or two in the past.

“Back to Einstein,” everyone, including Fifty, choruses. The merriment rises to previous levels.

“This microwave thing.” I point to the first bullet point: Cook Pineapple Bob. “I do like it.”

Woods is beaming proudly. “He’s had a good life.”

I agree. Pineapple Bob is, well, a pineapple. Frozen these three years in the youth fridge. Named by yours truly.

“We’ll burn down the youth room,” Davey replies. He doesn’t say it in a distressed way. It’s more of an FYI. Like he’s maybe done something like this before. I’ll light fire to that backstory eventually and smoke out some truth, but right now, it’s all Bob, all the time.

The youth room microwave is from the eighties, black as coal, and built like a tank. No doubt donated by some senior church member who moved to assisted living. Its smell is a mix of baked beans, ramen noodles, and burnt popcorn (with the door closed). So if we properly execute bullet point number three (Melt 50 Starlight Mints), its condition will drastically improve.

Janie Lee laughs nervously, her UGGs bouncing against the wicker of the papasan. She’s sipping hard on some vodka–wine cooler concoction Fifty has made. I give her a little fist-bump love for showing initiative. On both the rebellious drinking and the microwave. She doesn’t offer me a drink. I don’t need alcohol; I get drunk on schemes.

We begin.

The first three steps are disappointing. Pineapple Bob pops pretty loudly, as does the handful of Monopoly houses and hotels we’ve stolen from the game closet. The Starlight Mints have to be scraped off the microwave walls. It’s more eventful when Mash pukes up wine cooler on a half-eaten bag of Twizzlers.

“Come on, man,” Fifty says. “I wasn’t done with those.”

“You okay?” Janie Lee comforts Mash, which is pointless. Every group has a hurler: he is our hurler. He is used to puking. She is used to babying him. They are a very good team.

“Shhhhh with the upchucking,” Woods orders.

Woods and I turn our attention to step four, which is seeing How Many Peeps Is Too Many Peeps? The answer: more than forty. It’s messy and delightful.

Woods and I clean, reload, and move on to bullet five. Fifty moves on to more vodka. Typical. Step five involves boiling a used sock—Woods’s, because he has the worst-smelling feet—in Dad’s newly purchased World’s Best Preacher mug. Two minutes in, we’ve got gym smell and no action. It’s a little anticlimactic to be bullet five.

As we watch the mug-and-sock do its nothing, Woods says, “In basically three hours we have to be in the barn.”

Fifty lifts his head from a plank position on the floor and says, “In three hours, we could be walking Vilmer’s Beam.” This makes Mash throw a blanket over his own head. Everyone is tired of hearing Fifty bellow about walking the loft beam in Vilmer’s Barn. It was a dumb dare in fifth grade. We’re seniors. We’re over it.

I say, “I hate mornin—” and the sock catches on fire.

“Heck, yeah!” Mash says, too loud, and then laughs.

Janie Lee says, “The other room!”  Because there is a group of our fellow youth snoozing in Youth Suite 202.

The fire is small—barely more than a magnifying-glass-on-grass sort of spark—and entirely worth the four steps that came before it.

“Hot cup of sock, good sir?” I ask in a British accent.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Woods says, reaching for the microwave door.

Davey sits bolt upright. “Do not—!”

The moment Woods opens the door, the small fire becomes a larger one. The mug rockets out of the microwave and explodes on the carpet. The fire—well, most of the fire— lands on a fuzzy blanket. The flames poof. Woods snatches the other sock—the one whose mate is now ablaze—and beats at the fire. He only fans the flames.

We are all screaming. There is more fire. More sparks. Both shoot out of the microwave; the antique appliance dismounts the counter and lands on the carpet with an explosive bang.

I imagine my father sitting up down the hall, scratching his head, lifting his nose toward the ceiling, sniffing. A yell gathers in his throat.

“Give me something to beat it out!” I shout, and Mash laughs so hard that he vomits again.

“Puke on the fire, man,” Fifty says.

Davey shucks his jacket; Janie runs into the bathroom and returns with a damp towel. The jacket is working but not fast enough. Janie Lee throws the towel over the whole mess in a big Ta-da-I-will-fix-this fashion.

The fire is suddenly enormous.

“Was that the towel off the floor?” demands Woods as Davey rolls his eyes and says, “I’m calling 911.”

Janie Lee shrinks from Woods’s tone, nodding furiously. There’s commotion in the hallway. The counter, where the microwave previously sat, is also on fire. The alarm begins a high-pitched wail and the sprinklers descend from the ceiling as if they are Jesus in the second coming. We are all getting soaked as Woods yells, “We used that towel to mop up vodka!”

It’s hard to tell what is fire and what is smoke and what is microwave, but incredibly, I see the toe of the sock that started it all. Dad is going to kill me.

“Time to peace out,” Davey says, gesturing toward the exit.

The fire alarm continues to pierce our eardrums. Woods throws open the door to the hallway. “Abandon ship!” he shouts gallantly. Always directing traffic. He’s glistening with sweat. We all are, but he’s glorying in it.

Mash throws last week’s bulletin onto the fire before heading to the hallway. Fifty gives the wall a pound and yells, “Wakey, wakey. Church’s on fire.” Davey issues me a long look. He’s got some I told you so in those eyes. I’ve got some I know, I know in mine.

I grab Janie Lee in her sweet pink sweatshirt and UGGs and drag her behind me into the hall. She’s as soaked as the rest of us and not wearing a bra, and that’s gonna be a problem when we hit cool autumn air.

I think: I didn’t mean for all this to happen. I also think: I effing love Einstein the Whiteboard adventures. I have a moment of true fear when Woods plunges back inside the youth room. Before I even have time to process this, he reappears, coughing, and says, “Help me, Billie.” He darts into the smoky room again.

In I go to rescue Woods, who wants to save his precious whiteboard. Einstein is too near the fire. The edge is already melted, and I assume too hot to touch. “I’ll get you another one,” I promise him.

Not what he wants to hear. I drag Woods away and shove him toward the back stairs.

Around us, kids are evacuating. They’re carrying phones and sleeping bags and pillow pets. Two sixth graders are getting on the elevators while Fifty screams at them, “Take the stairs! Didn’t you learn anything in kindergarten?” A very familiar form is swimming upstream against the evacuees: Brother Scott McCaffrey. My tired and scared and angry father frantically counts everyone he sees. He flings opens doors, yells, moves to the next room. Precise words are impossible to hear over the fire alarm. But as I watch him check Youth Suite 201, I see he’s putting two and two together.

Likely conclusion: where there’s smoke, there’s Billie.

Janie Lee and I quick-walk toward the exit. She pulls me against her and says right in my ear, so I hear it over the noise, “Billie, I think maybe I’m in love with Woods!”

“Jesus,” I say, and hope it counts as a multipurpose prayer.

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