#well first of all you’re wrong & second of all they’re still adding things to spoon 3. there’s more seasons

[jesterjamz]

i think it’s unfair to compare splatoon 3, a game that hasn’t even been out for a year, to splatoon 2, which has been out for 6 years

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Six. Movies and Speedruns

warnings: swearing, many memes word count: 3.8k (not including pictures) (wow okay ash pop off!) 

behind the screen (irl!dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: LETS ALL JUST AGREE TO NOT LOOK AT THE DATES ON TWEETS AND STUFF BC SOME CHAPTERS ARE SO SCUFFED WITH DATES!!!! JUST KNOW THIS STORY STARTS MID NOVEMBER!!!!!!!! (in a world where covid doesn’t exist btw)

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Unknowingly and unintentionally, Y/n let out a big sigh as she poured a glass of water.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" Naomi asked gently, coming up behind her and hugging her tightly.

"Peter."

Naomi hummed, a sign that she was waiting for Y/n to lead the conversation so she could follow because if it were up to Naomi, she would immediately start trash-talking Peter and she wasn't sure if that was the vibe right now or not.

Y/n shook her head in disbelief as she jumped up to sit on the counter. "He got so mad when he found out I slept over at Karl's."

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I wish you would just cut him off completely."

"I don't know. I know I should but... part of me wonders if he could ever go back to how he was when I met him. I would probably date that guy again but not who he turned out to be."

Naomi looked horrified. "No. You sound like you're considering hearing him out. No, is that a joke? He's a bad person."

"I'm not," Y/n reassured. "I'm just thinking hypothetically. Probably because I miss having someone..."

"Y/n, you have a ton of thirsty people in your mentions. If you really want someone that bad, just scroll through, land on one and I bet they're a million times better than that sack of burned potatoes."

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled lightly. "Most of those are jokes."

"Not all of them," she teased.

"I know you're going to tell me anyway so just say it. Who specifically do you think isn't joking?"

"Dream," Naomi sang.

"Okay, crazy." Y/n reached over, staying seated on the counter as she grabbed a bowl from a cabinet on her left. She then leaned all the way right, reaching as far as she could, but couldn't quite grab a cereal box from the top of the refrigerator.

Naomi rolled her eyes as she helped, handing Y/n the box. She even went the extra step to get Y/n a spoon and the milk because she was that nice. "I'm not joking. Neither is he. Karl and I have talked about it and we both agree."

Y/n paused at her friend's words, her hand hovering over the milk that Naomi held out for her. "You guys gossip about my love life?"

Naomi set the milk next to Y/n, tired of holding it out for her. "Of course? Like we don't do that about Karl? Or you and him about me?"

She couldn't argue there.

"Karl says there's a different vibe from Dream when you join calls and I believe it. I mean, I've seen it during streams myself so I can only imagine how much more obviously in love with you he is during private calls.

"That 'vibe' is Karl's delusional mind creating things. He's too scared to talk to cameragirl so he's projecting onto Dream and I."

"Yeah, okay," Naomi agreed sarcastically.

Y/n huffed. "Besides, he's in Florida. I'm in North Carolina, in case you weren't aware."

"So you're saying if you lived in the same state, you'd date him?"

"I didn't say that." She honestly had never thought of it. Sure she liked hanging out with Dream and her stomach got butterflies when he talked directly to her and he made her smile harder than anyone ever had and he—

And she didn't like him like that. She had only officially met the guy like a week and a half ago and she didn't know what he looked like. There was no way you could catch feelings for someone without seeing them.

Naomi's expression fell again. "Distance doesn't matter, anyway."

"I swear if you say something about George I will slap you," she threatened through a smile and Naomi gave her an innocent grin back.

"If you're lonely, get on Tinder, not Peter. Or get on Dream. I have no qualms with that."

"Peter isn't even an option, Naomi." Y/n sighed, ignoring the comment about Dream.  "Also," she swallowed the last of her cereal and set the bowl down with a clank. "I'm gonna tell Peter I don't want to be friends anymore. Dream and George can be added to the list of Peter haters."

"You talked to them about it?"

She nodded. "You know how I have little gossip sessions with George? Well, Dream was there too this time."

"Well, of course Dream would hate Peter. We've established that he likes you."

"No, no, you and Karl delusionally hypothesized that."

Naomi tapped the counter methodically, a sign Y/n knew to signal that she was thinking hard. "Somehow, one day, I'll prove he does."

"Good luck."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"Yes," Y/n perked up. "Go pick something, I'll get blankets."

She went to her room, grabbing her favorite cuddling blankets. She started leaving her room when she heard a ding on her open desktop, signaling that she had a call incoming from Discord. Cool timing.

"I'll be just a second, Naomi!" she called across the house before dropping the blankets on her bed and sliding her headset on, answering the call from Dream. "Hi, Dream!" She sat on her chair and tucked her knees to her chest.

"Hi," he greeted sweetly. "How are you doing today?"

"Much better than when we last talked. How are you?"

"Great now that I'm talking to you," he said smoothly. Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "Are you busy?"

"Unfortunately, yes. My roommate and I are about to watch a movie."

"Ooh, what movie?"

"Not sure yet. Any suggestions?"

"Dark Knight. Unless you wanted me to say, like, Tangled or something."

"Yeah, girls' night is exclusively princess movies. Do you know nothing?"

"Apparently," he said with a laugh.

"What's up?"

"Oh, well, I was just gonna see if you wanted to be on call later with me, George, and Sapnap while I stream speedruns, but you're hanging out with your roommate so nevermind."

"Oh," Y/n deflated. "That sounds fun."

"I can push it back if you want to be part of it. If not, that's fine. I just thought it would be cool."

"No, no, no I really do want to, but I don't want you to have to push it back. When were you planning on starting?"

"In about an hour."

"I'll just join later if you're still playing. If that's okay that I come late."

"No. You have to be on time or not at all," he joked. "Of course that's fine," he assured. "And if I'm not playing anymore, you can still join... we usually talk for forever after we play games and it's fun. I would, er, we would love for you to hang out with us."

Y/n couldn't help the large smile on her face from staying even after they hung up and she walked back into the living room with her pile of blankets. She couldn't help it even when Naomi pointed it out and asked why she was so happy.

"Oh, uh, I've been invited to join Dream and them later for a stream."

"That vague answer doesn't warrant the shit-eating grin you have."

Y/n shrugged and cuddled more into her blankets. "What movie did you pick?"

*****

As the end credits rolled across the screen, Y/n yawned and looked over to Naomi in the dark. She was out like a light. Y/n stood up and made sure Naomi was covered in the blanket and she had a pillow. She crept back to her room and slid her headphones on, pulling up Discord where she saw the three boys' names still in a voice call.

She pulled up Twitch on her second monitor and looked for Dream's stream. It was already about an hour in. She clicked on it and her headphones echoed with the sound of George and Sapnap laughing like they said the funniest thing in the world.

"Shut up," Dream muttered. "Guys, what were the coords for the portal? Seriously, come on."

"Nobody tell him," George joked.

"George!"

"Where's Bugsyyyy?" Sapnap whined. "I want her to make fun of you with us."

"Half the stuff we're making fun of him for is about his big fat crush on her so..."

"George!" Dream yelled again. "No, it's not!"

Y/n smiled as she heard that, knowing it was a joke but laughing at the way Dream laughed at the accusation. She knew it wasn't serious or else they wouldn't talk about it on stream. George and Sapnap teased a lot, but certainly, they wouldn't out someone's crush in front of a hundred thousand viewers live.

"Oh!" Sapnap spoke out loud as George laughed loudly, both reading the text at the same time. "Speaking of..."

Dream waited for either of the two boys to elaborate but neither of them offered one. "What happened?"

"Bugsy texted us," George said off-handedly, typing a response to her. "She's coming in a second."

"Oh."

"What do you mean 'oh'?" Sapnap laughed.

"You guys have a groupchat?"

"Aw, jealous?" George asked.

Y/n joined at that moment, the first sentence coming from her Discord instead of Twitch being from Sapnap saying, "Would it make you more jealous to know our group name is Bugsy's Boys?"

"No, Sapnap, that's the one with Karl," George corrected. "The one with just you, me, and her is Bugsy's Boyfriends."

"WhAT?"

"I still don't approve of that, by the way," Y/n commented.

"Bugsy!!" Sapnap giggled happily. "You're finally here!"

"BUGSY!" George cheered.

"Hi guys!" Y/n laughed at the enthusiasm she was greeted with. "Hi, Dream!"

There was a few seconds of silence before, "Dream!!" George yelled right before the death screen appeared on the Twitch tab still opened on Y/n's right screen. "You idiot, what are you doing?! Why did you throw that run??"

She covered her mouth with the hoodie collar and laughed. "Off to a great start, bud."

"NO!" Dream yelled, knocking something, or somethings, off his desk. "Noooo! I didn't throw it, George, I FELL! Oh, that was going to be such a good run."

"What happened? How did you miss that huge ravine?" George asked while laughing. "It was literally right in the open. You didn't even try to use your water bucket."

"I-I was... I was distracted."

"By what? The completely open field with nothing blocking your vision?" Sapnap criticized with a laugh as well.

Y/n giggled to herself before letting her eyes trail to his chat, which was filled with the same accusations and guesses.

user5: BUGSY!

user2: DISTRACTED BY BUGSYS VOICE

user4: imagine saying hi so cutely that you make a man fall into a ravine

user1: are they dumb? obviously bugsy saying hi made his brain short-circut

user6: guys stop it wasn't bc she said hi. it was the g i g g l e

user3: DISTRACTED BY BUGSY!!!!

user8: HI BUGSY

user10: how to kill a man: hire bugsy to giggle and say hi directly to him

Y/n immediately blushed and covered her face again. She really had a habit of hiding even when no one could see her.

"Oh my gosh," Dream groaned, leaving the world and starting a new one. "Oh. My. Gosh. That's so annoying. I was doing so good."

"Oh," Sapnap laughed. "I understand now."

"What? What did I miss?" George asked.

"Just read chat," Sapnap explained. "They have the answer. Dream, your chat is so smart. Thanks for solving the mystery, chat!"

"No, they aren't ri— that isn't true!" Dream defended. "Chat, shut up."

"You sure?" Y/n asked teasingly, watching as his character paused when she started talking. Was she really making him this flustered just by talking? Surely not. He was just playing into the joke. He continued playing without saying anything, which made George and Sapnap laugh more.

The subject eventually changed and the atmosphere quickly became more relaxed and chill. Tonight was not a feral night like George had texted in all caps.

"Hey George," Y/n started, biting on her hoodie string with a smile because she knew Naomi would hear this when she watched the VOD the next day. "My roommate says hello."

"Oh my gosh," he muttered, making her laugh. "Let it go."

"Wow, I guess that's one way to treat your fans..."

"Fine," he sighed. "Tell her I say hello."

"Well, not if you don't mean it," Y/n teased.

"Yeah, George, you sound so unenthusiastic?" Sapnap asked.

"He's just flustered," Dream commented. "It's okay George, you can have feelings."

"Dream, you fell into a ravine because Bugsy said hi."

"Oh, come on! That's not—I just— I missed the jump! That's it!"

"I'm not flustered or unenthusiastic, I'm just tired, okay?" George explained, ignoring Dream, a yawn spilling out of him to prove it.

Y/n smiled. "Well, you could always let me give her your number if you really want..."

"No. If she had Discord you could give her that but not my phone number."

"Wait, really?" Y/n gasped. "Seriously?"

George laughed lightly. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"YES! Okay, a huge win for the girls. Well, a huge loss for the fangirls but a huge win for the girls of this apartment."

"Oh my gosh," he muttered and she could practically see him rubbing his face in embarrassment.

"I'll send you her hashtag when she makes one so you know who to add back."

"She's going to make an account just to talk to George?" Sapnap giggled.

"Yes, dude!" Y/n defended. "She at least wants to be his friend, let her shoot her shot!"

Dream ended the steam soon after, not being able to focus enough to beat the end on any of his runs. He had streamed for just under two hours so he seemed to be getting tired as well. George went to bed soon after and after 20 minutes of talking with Sapnap and Dream, Sapnap mysteriously disappeared.

Y/n was about to leave as well, not wanting Dream to feel obligated to stay on the call with her when he spoke up.

"Does Naomi actually like George?"

"Yeah, she does."

"Then I want him to accept her love."

Y/n laughed. "How is he with long-distance relationships?"

"Well, he and I do just fine..." Dream joked. "Oh, not what you meant. I don't know, you guys are the ones that talk about each other's love lives apparently."

"You're still bitter about that?"

"Yes!"

"Suck it up," she laughed. "Naomi would do probably anything to date him so I doubt distance is a problem for her."

"George's sleep schedule is completely messed up, so the time difference wouldn't matter too much. And when he comes to America they can meet in person."

"Wait, he's coming to America?" Y/n gasped happily. "When?"

"There's no set date, but yeah eventually. He'll probably just come to Florida but we've all talked about having a huge meetup with a lot of our friends."

"Oh... cool..."

"Bug? You know you'd be invited to that, right?"

"Oh, really?" she smiled.

"Of course. You're part of the group now."

"Sick," she muttered to herself, but he heard.

"Bug, you're one of my favorite people, do you know that?"

She blushed. "Really?"

"Really."

"You barely know me, Dream."

"Yeah, well, I know enough to know that I'm sorta attached to you."

"Attached to me? In what way?"

He suddenly sounded nervous as if his brain caught up with what his mouth was saying. "I don't know, nevermind."

"No, Dream, what do you mean?" her voice was soft and understanding and it made him feel safe.

"I just... I don't know. I care about you a lot. We met only, what, like a week or two ago, and I already worry about you a lot. Playing games doesn't feel the same anymore unless you're playing with us."

"To be fair, we have been tweeting at each other for much longer than a week or two."

"Yeah, that's true. But it's not the same as actually talking to you."

She smiled shyly. "I care about you a lot too, Clay." His name sounded strange as if it suddenly made everything much more serious. "Sorry, that just kinda slipped. I won't call you Clay if you don't want me to—"

"No, it's okay, it, uh, I like hearing you... say it. But, uh, you can call me whatever you want."

She smiled widely at the nervousness in his voice and the hard pounding of her heart. "I've heard from multiple people that you never stop talking about me."

He laughed timidly. "Maybe. Do you talk about me?"

"Ask Karl," she giggled. "My guess is yes." Her stomach felt tingly and her hands shook lightly. Why did she feel like this all of a sudden? It was late, she reasoned. That, or it was because Naomi had planted the seed of curiosity in her mind. Did Dream like her? No... right?

"I'm sorry if my chat was making you uncomfortable at the beginning when I died..."

"Don't worry, I wasn't uncomfortable."

"It was true, by the way," he paused, "what they were saying. Just... in case you were wondering."

Y/n couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which was growing painful at this point. "What, my voice makes your brain short-circut? That was one comment I saw."

Dream laughed. "More like your entire presence, but... yeah I guess so."

How is someone supposed to respond to something like that? The sweetness in his voice almost made her sick but in a good way.

And just like when he named her Minecraft flower something sweet knowing that no one would see it, why was he still playing up the joke when no one was around?

Not knowing what to say, she decided to let him in on a little secret. "If it matters, you're one of my favorite people too."

"It does."

There was a deathly moment of tense silence as if both of them were screaming to say something but neither did.

"Basically, if we do have a meet-up, I'll sue you if you don't come."

Y/n laughed. "My pockets are empty, sir, so... good luck."

He laughed and it was music to her ears.

"Are you not nervous to show everyone your face? Like, if or when we do all get together."

"Not really. Especially not if it's just to our friends. Are you?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Why?"

She sighed. "I'm sure people have me painted in a specific way in their heads and I've seen fanart of me that is way different and way more attractive than I am. I just don't want to let anyone down by not living up to their expectations."

"Bug," Dream said softly, "you couldn't let anyone down."

"You don't know that."

"You can't disappoint real friends or real fans with the way you look."

"To be clear, Dream," she laughed nervously, afraid she would sound conceited, "I don't think I'm ugly. I like the way I look. I'm happy with me. But that doesn't mean I can't still let people down."

"Different than expected doesn't mean disappointing."

His words smacked her in the gut. He was right. Reality and imagination are very different. Neither has to be better or worse than the other. She could look the complete opposite of how someone expects but that doesn't mean they will be either disappointed OR pleased. And why does it matter anyway? If she likes how she looks, who cares what other people think?

"It's also scary to think of getting recognized in public," she admitted. "Being recognized from the start is one thing because it starts off slowly with only a few people knowing your face but if the first time people see your face is when you have millions of fans, the recognition would be overwhelming."

"That's true. I don't think I would mind that much, though."

"Of course not, you're you."

"What does that mean?"

"You like the spotlight."

"I guess. Not all the time."

"Well, what about you?" she asked. "Are you afraid of people knowing what you look like?"

"No. I want to do a face reveal soon but I don't know how I would do it. I want to do it at some kind of event or something but I don't know."

"I need to schedule around when you do it because you'll break the internet. Give us content creators a warning so we can prepare to not get viewers for a week."

Dream laughed. "Oh come on."

"Twitter would just be full of the same picture of you in every single tweet."

"It won't be that big of a deal."

"Something tells me your millions and millions of subs say otherwise."

"Whatever," he said. "As if you wouldn't break the internet too."

"Maybe for a day or two. But you'd break everything for weeks."

"Sure." There was a long pause before Dream softly said, "Karl's lucky."

"How so?"

He didn't speak for a moment, almost like he wasn't prepared for that question because he didn't mean to be heard. "I wish I could know you the way he does."

"You could. He and I knew each other in person first so it's different. You and I could get there eventually."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I trust you a scary amount for someone I met weeks ago."

"I didn't mean to sound like I'm trying to pressure you into showing me your face or telling me your name. I didn't mean like he gets to know what you look like and I don't. I meant, like, I wish we could hang out in person because I prefer that over talking in Discord."

"I get it, Clay. I feel the same way," Y/n said softly. There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again.

"Oh, gosh, it's already four."

Y/n's head snapped to look at her clock, which read 3:57am. "Already?" she whispered. "Dang."

As if acknowledging the time changed the atmosphere, it suddenly felt like 4am. Her back ached from her shifting in her chair so much over the last few hours, never being able to find a good position. The house was eerily quiet and all she heard was the low hum of the heater. The house felt stale, not used to its occupants being so alert and awake at that hour.

"I should probably go to bed..."

"Yeah, me too," Dream agreed. His voice sounded tired. "Thanks for joining us, it was really fun with you."

"Thanks for inviting me. Sorry I made you die. Hopefully you'll still let me back again."

"You're always invited to barge into my streams. Actually."

Y/n giggled again and mentally slapped herself for sounding like a little kid. "Well, you too. You can interrupt my streams anytime."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Goodnight, Clay."

"Goodnight, Bug."

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[sweetest-honeybee]

Down to Dust

Chapter 5

Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself that's only amplified by his No Killing mindset.

Chapter Summary: After a semi-sleepless night with a mysterious and insult heavy voice, Mumbo admits to Grian that he wasn’t exactly honest when he said nothing happened to him before he gave back the egg.

TW: Sleep deprivation (just in case), insults/degradation, and similar things (it’s not a bad chapter but to those a wee bit sensitive)

Word Count: 1441

Notes: None I don’t think

Enjoy!

——————

Your idiocy astounds me.

Mumbo turned on his side and pulled his knees to his chest. It was still dusk, the middle of the night most likely. At least, it felt like he’d been up for hours. Just as sleep tugged at his eyelids in an almost successful attempt at letting him drift into a peaceful slumber, a voice, and a strange one at that, jabbed itself into the back of his mind. It did nothing more but insult him.

How’ve you become so gullible.

It wasn’t just any voice, he discovered. It was his voice. Of course, that’s what thoughts were most of the time, especially particularly degrading ones. However, it was different from his usual self deprecation. It was a deep, distorted echo of his voice, but he recognized it all too well.

And it wouldn’t stop talking.

He didn’t see you take it, you daft spoon.

It was likely just buzzing nerves after the egg’s outburst. His heart still raced at the very thought of it, and when the egg came to mind, so did the eerie voice. Weird things happened after he got his hands on the egg in the first place. Thus, the voice was a new addition alongside an aching in his limbs and an uncanny…guilt, for lack of a better word. Almost as if he’d done something wrong. Like a child that’s broken their parents’ favorite vase.

Must’ve been the leftover shame from Grian’s scolding.

He sat up, leaning his head back on the cold wall of the van and rubbing his eyes.

Grian’s lied to you like he’s done several times before. You’re a fool to trust him.

Mumbo didn’t feel like listening to the gravelly voice. He pulled his hand away from his face and held it in front of him. The fatigue left it blurred against the interior of the van. Only a soft golden light emitted from the windows behind it from the bases outside. It was a nice glow. A soft, serene warmth that he could almost…almost doze off to…

That egg holds a power unlike anything you’ve seen. A thousand times more than all the redstone you can imagine.

He lifted his head from its slow descent to his chest. Power? What was power to him if he was too tired to use it because the damned voice wouldn’t let him sleep. Half lidded eyes trailed towards the hand that was now in his lap.

Why don’t I get it for you if you’re so frightened of your little bird friend.

Mumbo was dozing again. In this state, he mumbled to himself.

“Don’t even know who you are,” was all that slurred from his lips. He decided to humor the voice anyway. “Just some thought.”

Who I am hardly concerns you.

“You keep insulting me. Why would I listen to-“

Mumbo, it snapped. If you wish to keep questioning me, it’s a futile attempt. My purpose here is to…make a deal of sorts.

“Deal,” the redstoner echoed with a short nod. “I must be very tired. I’m making deals with myself. Mhm, what kinda deal.”

I need a little bit more power. You retrieve the egg, then we can talk more.

“I can’t…get the egg. Grian has it.” He snorted. “If he hid it well this time. Didn’t you say you could just get it?”

If a vexed businessman with less common sense than a beached squid can find it, I’m sure you can. As for the offer, I unfortunately cannot get it alone.

“I’m not very helpful.” Mumbo yawned. “Just some stupid hermit.”

Believe me, I’ve heard, the voice sounded as if it were to roll its imaginary eyes. But, you’re the only stupid hermit that I have the capability to ask. I’m asking for your assistance. You want the egg, yes?

“I…do want the egg.” It just causes issues though, he added to himself. But, it could revolutionize everything if he could experiment with it. Test its limits.

Good, Mumbo, you can use it for all kinds of farms. You love farms. Farms, vaults, walking…bases. The voice cleared its throat. Many things, of course.

“Mhm. I do.”

Do we have a deal, then?

Mumbo nodded silently, more so to please the voice and get on with ending the conversation. But, he was just talking to himself, it wasn’t exactly easy to simply turn off your thoughts.

He pulled the blanket over himself. As long as he got some rest, things could go back to being as normal as Hermitcraft would let them be. It was already looking up for him. The voice quieted for longer and longer until he was successful at his final attempt to sleep.

The next morning, however, he was up much earlier than he certainly wanted to be, having been awake a mere four hours later to a knock at the van’s door.

He groaned, finally having just gotten comfortable in the small space. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed at his eyes with a wide yawn. He reached over to the other side of the van, opting to pull the door open from his bed. (Having spider-like limbs came in handy once in a while, he supposed.)

At the door was Grian who looked much more awake- no- alive than Mumbo certainly knew he did. The builder initially greeted him with a smile but before a word even partially escaped his mouth, he grimaced at Mumbo. Though, cringe seemed a better word.

“My god you look awful,” he hissed.

“Good morning to you too,” grumbled the redstoner as he pulled himself out of the van. He stretched, earning a chain of pops down his spine which ended in a satisfied sigh.

“You know, I’d say sorry but I’m not joking, you look like the walking dead. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“A bit,” came a simple answer.

“A bit,” Grian mocked. “When someone says they got a wink of sleep, it’s not a literal statement-”

“Do you need something?” Mumbo turned with a huff.

The avian cleared his throat. “Oh yeah, just wanted to check up on you.” The redstoner only raised a brow. “And you’re out of end crystals.”

Mumbo waved a dismissive hand, only to cover another yawn. “I’ll get those soon.” He began to walk to his potato farm when Grian stopped him with a tug of his arm.

“And I um-“ He sighed. “Sorry again about the whole egg thing. I hope that’s not the reason you look so tired.” Rather than ending in a snort or a giggle, he only looked up at the other with an almost regretful expression. A stark contrast to his mood seconds prior.

Ah, Mumbo guessed that he only came to talk more about the egg. The sentiment was nice though.

Too tired to try to lie, however, he shrugged. “Well, it kinda was but not much to do with you.”

Grian pulled away. “Kind of?”

“Yeah, can’t really explain it. Just nerves I guess.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to choose his next words semi-carefully. “But, I um- I wasn’t all that honest when I said nothing happened when the egg did what it did yesterday.”

This only earned a groan from his friend who accompanied the sound by pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jeez, Mumbo, of course you weren’t. What happened?”

“The egg…I don’t know. When that whole thing happened I was kind of…caught in it. I didn’t run fast enough to avoid this weird wave of energy. Weird stuff’s been happening since.”

“Oh,” was all that left Grian’s mouth.

“Oh?” Mumbo gestured for his friend to continue. “Am I- Is that a good thing? Bad thing?”

“Well did it feel bad?” The avian ran his fingers through his hair. His expression seemed a mix between confused and fearful. Still, wide eyes darted in every direction except the other man.

It only made Mumbo anxious. “What? Is something going to happen to me? Did I screw something up?”

“We’ll that’s the thing, I don’t know! The Watchers don’t know either and-“

The redstoner held up a hand to halt Grian’s answer (or lack of), now mirroring the wide eyed horror on his friend’s face. “Hold on The Watchers don’t know?! Grian you’re a Watcher!”

“Ah, not quite-“

“Not quite?!”

“Mumbo!” snapped the builder. He continued in a hushed voice. “Okay, no, we don’t know. Really, you won’t die but the likelihood is that you might’ve just started a potential dimensional war.”

“I did what.”

[danddymaro]

Perfect | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Who Is the Perfect man for (f/n)?

-Something Corny, and sweet.

Word Count:  2826

Perfect 

He found it impossible to compete with his closest friend, not just because it was morally wrong to try and get the same girl, but because all in all, he had no chances with her, and he was well aware.

'Because even if I'm wrong,' He started, '...Even if it's not Steve... then I'd still be the last person in the world you’d ever look at,' He silently declared, truly believing it.

'You could always do so...so much better than me,' He thought with dejection.

'I know it...but even then, I'm willing to make a fool of myself. 

 I want to let you know because it's getting harder and harder to just sit back,'

"(f/n)" He said while following up with a harsh swallow,

"I'm not perfect like Steve," Bucky started, "...I’m not someone who’s loved by everyone, and looked up by just about every child on the damn planet," he confessed, and at his sudden outburst she let out a surprised peep, turning to him with wide eyes,

“Wha-”

" And I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm not him!" He cried out. " But I wish I was..." he added, knowing just how much the woman idolized the other man.

"I really wish I were." He added with a short mutter.

 (f/n) eyed his pain-stricken face with concern, because there was an obvious shine of heartbreak in his steel-colored eyes, causing a hitch in her breath, her heart stopped by the sight before it tore in two, further breaking as she saw his expression grow even more with anguish and melancholy as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

- This was the endgame, the all or nothing for him,

"In Fact, I'm the furthest thing from a hero and I know that." he continued on, a dry laugh tailing the words because he found it almost amusing how little he was in comparison to the perfect blonde.

‘When I stand next to him… I can’t help but feel like I’m less.’

"- I know what I am," he added, trying his best to let his wavering smile last.

He wanted to at least look brave, to look like a real man and not the groveling mess he really was as he forced out the words, battling rough the pain that threatened to take over.

Her (e/c) colored eyes went wide as he said that, and she immediately rushed to his side, " No Bucky, please don't start with that, you're a good person!" she said with a certainty that almost convinced him.

Like many times before, she rushed to his side, both Metaphorically and in literal actions, trying her best to assure him, and it was yet another reason why he cherished her so much.

"It can't be true if I don't believe it," She said stubbornly, throwing him a glowing grin as she said the words, the expression brightening even more as he looked at her dumbfounded,

"What does that even mean?" He asked her, a little chuckle leaving him.

"Just what I said," She went on, " It can't be true if I don't accept it," She reiterated.

He let the words settle in, and it wasn’t long before eye understood, by then offering  her a tired, little smirk  as he shook his head, "So, it’s just that easy?" He asked her, the moronic simplicity of it amusing him.

"For me it is," she told him, "For me, it's easy to accept that you're not a monster. It's easy for me to believe it, and even if you keep telling me otherwise, Buck...It won't change the way I see you," She explained,

"So just think of it that way, that, even if the entire world believes it, you included, there's not a damn thing in the world that will let me fall into the same train of thought.

As long as I'm kicking there's doubt,

And as long as there is doubt, it can't be accepted as truth," She spelled out, the certainty she displayed showing to be unwavering.

‘Only you...’ He thought with disbelief, 

“You really are something else,” He muttered, the little grumble rousing a little giggle.

She was the anchor to his unsteady boat and all the while the kindness she showed him made him fall harder under her spell, giving him more excuses to come closer to her, it also scathed him, because he knew that she only saw him as the pathetic mess in need of care.

And he wanted much more than that. 

He shook his head and took advantage of the closeness of their bodies by taking hold of her, his hands at her upper arms,

"- (F/n)," He started, mauling over how it had taken him months to find the perfect moment, the instant where he'd risk everything.

‘This is it,’ He told himself.

"You don't need to coddle me like that," he said with a soft sound of amusement escaping his nose. Afterward, he then took a deep, slow breath through his parted lips, before he tightened his hold by only a small degree, careful to not hurt her with his metal arm.

"Look... I can't be him, and I'm sorry," He said softly, truly sounding regretful for something he had no control over.

"I can't be Steve, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could stand in his shoes for just an instant, and feel what it's like to have you see me with anything but pity.” He revealed, “ Because then...(F/n) you’d see me in the way I really want you to look at me as...as a man." he confessed.

‘I don’t want you to feel bad for me anymore. In fact, I don’t want to be swallowed up by the same pity myself,’ He thought to himself.

" Look, I'm not as smart as Banner, because I still struggle with the technology of today and I know it'll get annoying," he said trailing off, not finding a single strong point he held in the field, "But I'll try... I really will," he swore.

At the confession, a small smile made its way onto her features, because he was right, he was a helpless mess when it came to the more modern things, but, to her, it was adorable.

She found it cute, and just another reason to stay by him a bit longer.

Watching him fiddle with his phone with that adorable, little face of confusion he gave her was all the more reason to sit closer to him, taking hold of his hand within hers to lead his finger across the screen and navigate through all its apps and features.

" I'm not wealthy like Stark… in fact, I could never have that much money and spoil you as much as he could." He told her, " I know some women like fancy jewelry and nice expensive dinners, but the most I can do for you now is a small bouquet of ( favorite flowers)...because I know how much you like them," He said softly, having noticed how much she stopped by to visit the little patch of them as they took small walks.

"Sorry," She said with a sheepish smile, " I know it gets annoying," She said while petting the small petal, " But I really like these flowers," She said while gazing at the blossom,

" They're my favorite," She told him, having to only mention it once for him to remember, ingraining it in his brain that if he ever got her flowers they'd be the ones she loves most.

' I know everything about you,' he thought with fondness. ' Because...Because I always remember everything you have to say...I cling to every word because I know that sometimes you think you’re not heard.'

"I remember every bit of you, down to the stupid little faces you want me to forget," he said making her hold back a small chuckle as she glanced away, turning pink at the mention.

"I'm not a prince like Thor.. or ...even a God..." he continued on, speaking with just abit more lightheartedness while gazing at the sweet expression she wore.

"I'm not funny like Clint since you seem to love his jokes so much...for whatever reason," he said with furrowed brows, seemingly stumped on that one because Clint Barton’s humor was just simple, stupid puns that made everyone else roll their eyes.

"And don't get me started on Sam..." He muttered, detesting how easily the two flowed with each other, all to the point they seemed to share a single, working  brain cell, and it only made the older man wish he had the same ability to just work with her without the awkwardness and fear.

‘But I just get so nervous...’ he lamented, ‘ I just end up overthinking it all, and it’s because you have this effect on me,

In fact, it’s a miracle I’m even getting through this now,’

(f/n) shook her head at him, because Bucky didn't need to tell her jokes to smile, and they didn't need to make stupid banter either.

she didn't need to find a reason to smile with him, because, she just did, naturally.

- It was like second nature while at his side.

"I'm not as charming as that Loki guy.

I see the way you smile at the sound of his voice and I'd be lying if I said I really didn't wish mine sounded like his," He said with a dry chuckle, knowing he grew especially jealous when the other man purposely pronounced certain words for her, just to make her giggle, living for the attention he received.

'Oh...Bucky,' (f/n) thought while shaking her head, because, truth be told, the sound of his voice was much more her taste. She loved the sound of it from when it goes higher with joy, or mellows down in serenity, and even when it trembles as he tells her his worries.

‘I don’t think you realize how expressive you’ve become,’ She mused, ‘ Oh Buck, I could go on forever listening to you instead.' She thought to herself. 'I'd love nothing more than to hear you every morning, and not just outside my door. 

I mean first thing...right as I wake up.

And then...afterwards, fall asleep to your murmurs.' she inwardly spoke with the same bashful expression that had yet to cease,

'Bucky...' She thought with a soft smile. 'You’re such an idiot.'

"- I'm just not... not him. I'm not any of these men.

I don't have anything to offer you...

Not a single thing to my name that can bring you pride, " he admitted while looking down at his hands, both gloved limbs because he detested looking down at what actually lay beneath the piece of clothing.

"My arm is like a spoon on a stove on most summer days and a block of ice on winter ones.

So, I could never give you a fully warm touch, one that’s comforting and that I know you deserve." He said softly, having gone over the thought so many times that it haunted him.

"I'm not perfect..." he said dejectedly, saying so in a way that seemed as though it was meant for himself to remind him of just who he was before he got his hopes up too far.

‘What am I even doing...?’ He asked himself, his shoulders slowly falling as he weighed in the facts.

‘Oh...I'm not either Bucky,' She thought while feeling her heart race.

What he believed to be perfection was all misguided, because All the details and traits he wanted to have were things he didn’t need.

"I know I'm not.

I'm at the point where I'm still struggling to remember who am...and much more, somehow make up for all the wrong I’ve done.

(f/n) , I'm Still struggling to accept what I've done...which is a lot." He confessed, sighing deeply. " I've done so much wrong that I don't ever think ill be able to atone for my wrongdoings.

In short, I could give you a list of the many things wrong with me, and it'd run for miles, but there is one thing that I know is right,

And...And it's that I love you." He said while finally uttering the three words he's wanted to tell her for ages now.

"I love you so much (f/n), it hurts right here when I'm not with you, " He admitted, clutching his chest, placing his palm right above his bouncing heart.

Taking her hands in his he lifted them to his lips, offering her a tender kiss to each Knuckle, and all the while she stood watching, still stunned by his confession.

"Doll, you make my heart race like crazy!" he said with astonishment, peering down at her with glowing eyes.

"Sometimes, you make me feel like I'm back where I was when everything was simple and good, and for those moments, I feel fully human.

Yeah, There are times when my brain goes haywire, and I get stupidly tongue tied, but, when I’m not  rendered stupid, with you...everything feels right.

 And just looking at you does that to me!" he said cocooning her hands in his.

"You give me nostalgia of good times and make me forget I'm a mess, and that's all I want now, to feel like a regular guy and...maybe, settle down.” He revealed, letting her know what she inspired in him.

‘A family? For me?’ He asked himself, ‘ You make me think of building an actual future,’

“-I know one thing for certain and ...and It's that whatever I become after this will revolve around you,

Always.

Because you're the center of my universe (f/n).

I didn't want to force you into loving me, to pity you into accepting me, that's why I've been silent, but I also can't keep this to myself anymore, because I feel like it’s slowly killing me," He said while tightening his hold on her.

“Keeping this from you is torture,” He added." If I lose you because I was too afraid to take the risk I don't know what I'd do with myself. And I know that even if everyone else in the world has a better shot than me...Even if they're all better in every way, no one else can love you the way I do,” He told her. 

“And you deserve to be given the world, if not the entire universe!

(F/n) ,  I'm asking for the chance, The chance to try and hand it to you, " he pleaded. "That's all I need, it's all I need to prove myself. I'll try my best to make you happy and treat you like a prince- no like a queen. " He went on, rambling and unwinding everything he'd kept silent.

Her (e/c) eyes were wide and her brows rose as high as they could, shaking like a leaf in his hands, and seeing that he felt anxious,

"Don't be afraid of me, please. You can even say no if you want, just don't leave me.

 Even if you don't want me as a man, I still want to be able to see you, I still want to be a part of your life, no matter how meaningless it is, because I just want to make you happy."

His eyes then met hers, and in that one glance, his heart exploded into little bits and pieces.

Her eyes were glistening with tears, but beneath that, they twinkled with the glee. They sparkled like they never had before and he couldn't help but stare at the woman, becoming dumbstruck.

" You took all this time to list the things you're not Bucky..." she replied, finally speaking, finding her voice. " but you forgot to mention everything that makes me want you instead," She told him.

She then wrapped her arms around his neck, latching onto him, unashamed at coming closer.

Without skipping a beat he lifted her up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Spinning her around he smiled,

"Doll... I'll make you happy, I promise...I'll find a reason to make you smile every single day." He swore, heading down for a kiss he'd craved.

Through her response she smiled, kissing him back with the same yearning, thinking of no one else but the man that held her so dearly,

“I love you too,” She said back, the words filling him with even more joy because while he wasn’t in any way near faultless, she loved him.

‘I’m not perfect either,’ She mused, ‘But you think I’m worth being handed the entire world and more,’ She went on, truly touched by his declarations, 

In spite of his every insecurity and doubt, she saw him as her own perfection, finding it amusing because all the while, she’d been afraid to take the step closer, 

“I couldn’t ask for better,” She breathed, 

“I couldn’t love anyone else,”

[frogsandcookies]

Cat Hoodies and Flirting

I bring you flirty Logan, flustered Patton, and dash of Patton angst. Accompanying this is a strange plot that takes a bunch of weird twists and platonic Prinxiety. 

___

Set after Moving On Parts 1 & 2

___

After doing his normal morning routine which consisted of washing his face, combing his hair, and changing into a suitable outfit for the day, Logan walked out of his room and down the stairs to the unusually quiet kitchen where Patton was sitting slumped over a bowl of cereal.

"I see the gift I got you fits well." Logan commented as he walked into the room, noticing Patton was wearing the cat hoodie the logical side had gifted him several days earlier. The sight of the moral side in the hoodie made Logan feel strangely proud; the look of joy on Patton's face when he had first gotten it a prize worth slaying an army for.

Patton looked up from his cereal bowl where a bunch of cheerios sat soggy in the milk, untouched. He gave a small smile, replying with,"Yeah, it's very fluffy and soft on the inside. And of course, a cat hoodie."

"I'm glad you like it." Logan said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Patton hummed in response, turning back to his cheerios which he was pushing around with a spoon in a disinterested and distracted manner.

Logan frowned, noticing Patton's lack of energy and pep. The moral side would have normally made several puns at this point and have lectured Logan about staying up until unholy hours of the night/technically morning.

He decided that his work could wait and joined Patton at the table, the latter looking up from his cereal once again.

"Don't you have work to do?" Patton asked, trying to conceal his dejected attitude with a happy facade.

"Yes but it can wait. Patton, I notice your usually bright demeanor is more forced today, is something wrong?" Logan questioned, a concerned expression making its way onto his face.

Patton forced a smile onto his face and said,"No, everything's okay!"

Logan sighed and placed his hand on Patton's, a gesture that shocked the latter. "Patton, I might not be Deceit--er Janus but I can tell that you're lying. What's wrong?"

"I...I have romantic feelings for someone." Patton said, letting his fake smile drop as he revealed the cause for his miserable attitude.

Logan steeled, his heart aching for some reason but he kept a neutral face as he asked,"What's the matter with that?"

"I don't this person feels the same way." Patton said. Logan frowned. Anyone who didn't requite Patton's feeling was an idiot, he thought.

"I wouldn't say they're an idiot." Patton said, causing Logan to flush. "Did I say that aloud?" He asked. Patton nodded, looking a bit amused.

"I just mean, you're so amazing and thoughtful so I don't see why anyone wouldn't return your feelings." Logan elaborated, looking confused as Patton blushed.

"I'm glad you hold me in such high regards." Patton said, still flushed. Logan smiled. "Of course I do, despite our disagreements and differences, you are among my best acquaintances."

"We've known each other for decades Lo, I'd call us friends as this point." Patton said, smiling. Logan felt another wave of unexplainable sadness wash over him at the word 'friends' but kept smiling despite that.

"That makes us sound so old." Logan commented. Patton laughed, his cheery demeanor beginning to return. "Well Thomas is 28." He said.

Logan nodded, looking at Patton and their intertwined hands. He though about the strange ache that kept coming whenever Patton mentioned his crush. This wasn't the only time his heart ached like that but the common link seemed to be Patton. For some reason, whenever he and the moral side interacted, he felt unexplainably nervous, his face often burned at compliments, and further symptoms of an unknown disease showed.

Patton smiled and said,"Thanks for cheering me up, Lo."

Logan snapped out of his stupor and looked back at Patton, giving a small smile before saying,"It was my pleasure Patton. ...If you don't mind me asking, who is this person who has earned your affections?" Patton blushed once again and he said,"I'd rather not say the name but I'll describe him."

Logan nodded and Patton began talking once again. "Well he's handsome. I know that we all have the same face but all of us have different aspects that differentiate us and his just make butterflies form in my stomach."

"That's concerning, you shouldn't have insects forming in your stomach as a result of your infatuation." Logan said, frowning. "It's just a saying, it just means he causes me to be a bit nervous." Patton explained kindly.

"Ah. Well, what else do you like about him?" Logan asked, pushing down the sadness once again.

"Some people see him as cold but that's because they haven't gotten to know him. When you get to know him, you get to see how passionate he is and his caring side." Patton said, a lovesick smile gracing his lips.

"Are you talking about Virgil?" Logan asked, trying to connect the clues to a side. "What? No, he's my best friend. I don't feel anything other than platonic love for him." Patton said.

"Oh." Logan said. "What made you think I was talking about Virgil?" Patton asked.

"The description sounded a bit like him but since you have denied this then I am once again confused." Logan replied.

"Oh. Well, here's another clue of sorts. He's smart and most definitely the wisest side of Thomas." Patton said, a lovesick face once again worming its way onto the moral side's face as he thought about the side.

Logan frowned. "Deceit?" He questioned.

"No." Patton said, snapping out of his daydream at the question. "Roman? Emile? Remy?" Logan said.

"No, no, and no." Patton responded, a vaguely nervous expression making its way onto his face.

Logan was both relieved and more confused at this answer. "There's no one left, unless you're referring to someone from the Imagination though that is doubtful considering how Roman always makes sure to lock his door."

"There's one person left." Patton said softly, pulling his hand back. Logan thought for a moment before realization struck. He looked over to Patton a wide eyed expression and said,"Are you talking about me?"

Patton looked down and Logan took this as confirmation. "Why would you like me? I'm harsh and cold and emotionless and--"

Patton looked up with a serious expression. "You are not emotionless Logan. You have emotions and you don't have to hide them. Having feelings doesn't make you any less smart." He said.

"I...But why me?" Logan asked.

"I can't exactly control who I love, Lo." Patton said, looking almost embarrassed. Logan blushed a bit and said,"You love me?"

Patton flushed and said,"Uh--Yes?"

"Earlier you said I wouldn't requite your feelings, why would you assume that?" Logan asked, once again confused.

"I just--well it doesn't seem like you're interested?" Patton said, internally debating about whether to run away or keep talking with Logan.

"Oh. Well you would be wrong." Logan said. Patton looked at him with a surprised expression, his eyes fairly wide.

"Wait really?" Patton said.

Logan smiled and took Patton's hand, kissing it softly. Patton's face burned and he hid his face with his free hand. Logan smiled a bit wider and said,"Yes."

Patton blushed darker and Logan took the latter's face in his hand. "Don't hide your pretty face from me, Pat." Logan said.

"Since when were you so charming, Lo?" Patton said, his face a shade of bubblegum pink thanks to Logan's words.

"I can be romantic, I just choose not to be. But now, maybe I should do it a bit more because it seems that you are very easy to fluster." Logan quipped, winking.

"I am not that easy to fluster!" Patton said half heartedly, his complexion contradicting the statement.

"It's not a bad thing, in fact I find it quite adorable." Logan said, blushing a bit as well. "You're going to kill me. Logan, I'm going to die and when I do, you're going to kill my ghost." Patton said, smiling and blushing.

"Well then I'll just have to revive you. Will a kiss do?" Logan said. Patton sputtered for a moment before closing his mouth and nodding.

Logan laughed and pressed his lips against Patton's. They pulled away after a few seconds and Patton mumbled,"I'm going to die now. Tell my son I love him."

"Love you too dad." Virgil said, walking into the living room, Roman following behind him.

Both the moral and logic side shot up, the former asking,"How long were you watching us for?!"

"Long enough that we learned what a flirt Logan is and that you are the most blushy side in the Mindscape." Roman replied, smirking a bit.

"We also know that Logicality is now canon." Virgil added, a matching smirk adorning his face.

"Logicality?" Logan asked, him and Patton both looking equally confused.

"Logic and Morality. Logan and Patton." Virgil explained.

"Oh. OH." Patton said. "Is this one of those "ship" things you were telling me about?" Logan questioned.

"Mhm." Virgil replied, eating a couple chips.

"I told you I wasn't talking about a boat!" Patton said, smiling a bit. "Fair enough." Logan said, giving him a matching smile.

"Ew, go be romantic somewhere else. We're trying to eat." Roman said, his nose wrinkling.

"Pat and I were here first." Logan pointed out.

"Get a room." Virgil said.

"Fine. Patton, it seems we are in the presence of several heathens who don't have manners. Would you like to accompany me to my room? We could watch a movie." Logan said, turning to the shorter side.

"I would love too." Patton said, grinning. Logan smiled and said,"Perfect. Much like you."

Patton flushed again and all three of the other sides laughed. Logan offered his hand to Patton who took it and followed Logan.

"Congrats on getting together! And if you hurt dad, I will send Remus after you." Virgil said, the last part directed and Logan who nodded in understanding.

"I wouldn't dare." Logan said, giving Patton a loving look that caused the moral side to melt.

As they walked up the rest of the stairs, Virgil turned to Roman. "You owe me five bucks, I told you they'd get together by the end of the month."

"Fine though I don't see why you need the money." Roman said, fishing out his wallet from on of his pockets.

"It's more the satisfaction of winning." Virgil replied.

Roman rolled his eyes and handed Virgil a five dollar which the anxious side took and put in his hoodie pocket.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Alt Ending, Part 5

Hot take but finals kinda suck

First part

Previous part

Next part

Tag: @solangelo252

You’d think her body would be grateful that she was finally giving it food, but no. She put it in her mouth and instantly felt nauseous. It didn’t even want to go down her throat, and keeping it there felt basically impossible.

But Tim had looked so happy when she had tried, so she forced it down.

(Well, she forced some of it down. If he noticed that a good amount of the food she brought to her mouth actually disappeared into the sleeves and folds of her dress he didn’t say anything.)

Tim started coming by three times a day with food after that. She didn’t complain despite her discomfort, she had really missed him.

Also, he looked stressed out and/or exhausted whenever she saw him. She worried about him. They both had a tendency to overwork themselves when they hit blocks, hell she’d sometimes joined him in his week-long deep dives into cases, but now that she was an outsider looking in… she was kind of shocked she’d ever let it get that far for either of them. When was the last time he’d slept through the night? Taken proper time to clean himself, even? A while, she guessed from the deep bags under his eyes and the way his hair was frayed from running his fingers through it.

“Timmy,” she chirped.

He flashed her a tiny smile. “Hey,” he said, coming over and taking a seat beside her on the bed.

She took the bag from him and set it aside, much to his dismay, but then she reached over and dragged him into some cuddles and he suddenly had new concerns. He groaned into her shoulder.

“Bean, come on, I don’t want to sleep.”

She didn’t let go. “You need to.”

“Don’t have time.”

She rolled her eyes, bringing a hand up to start attempting to smooth out his hair. “You have to sleep eventually.”

“And I do!”

She didn’t answer, which he took to mean she didn’t believe him (a good assumption, she didn’t).

“I do! I get at least a few hours a week.”

“Wow, amazing. I take it back. You totally have a healthy sleep schedule.”

“Worry about yourself, first. You don’t sleep either,” he huffed, but he was starting to relax into her hold nonetheless.

“I’m also literally dead.”

“You used to say you’d sleep when you were dead.”

Marinette scoffed. “Well, to be fair, I thought I’d actually die when I died.”

He gave a short laugh, and she opted not to acknowledge that it was a little forced.

She yawned and laid back with his face in her shoulder. “I’m surprised none of the others have drugged you to get you to sleep yet.”

“They’re too busy drugging B --.” He winced just slightly. “They’ve just got a lot on their plates is all, I’m the least of their worries.”

She didn’t say anything about his tiny slip up, just gave a light hum to say she understood.

She didn’t dare to move until she was completely sure he had nodded off. Even then, she only did so to pick up the food he’d brought for her.

Her nose scrunched a little at the prospect of eating, but when she opened it and saw it was fried rice she perked up a little. She nibbled at her food.

Honestly, she didn’t know if it was working. It seemed to be, but then again most of the things that got better could be attributed to other causes. Her skin was gaining color again, but the bleach may have just started to wear out. She was feeling more energized, but then again she was now getting a total of four cups of coffee a day thanks to Tim and Jason fueling her addiction. Exercise was getting easier and she was packing on muscle again, but she was also working out enough with Dick for it to be explainable that way…

She didn’t know if it was working. She didn’t even know if she WANTED it to work. The plan had been ‘kill Bruce and then quickly off yourself before the others can react’ and not having an instant out was kinda problematic when it came to finishing that plan.

Not that the first part of that plan was working out for her, either. Bruce still hadn’t come to see her. She doubted he ever would at this point.

She didn’t even have a way out, as the door was automated and presumably opened by someone outside.

No. The only way she would ever leave was if she managed to ‘fix’ herself, and that wasn’t happening because there was nothing to fix! She would know. Her entire thing as Ladybug was fixing things.

She looked down at Tim. When he slept all the little wrinkles in his forehead smoothed to make him look much younger. She smiled a little at the sight, pressing a kiss to where she knew the creases usually were.

At least, even if her situation couldn’t be helped, she could still help others.

~

She’d come to expect a routine of sorts, so the moment it was broken even slightly her brain short-circuited.

Duke stood in the doorway as usual, but when she glanced past him…

“Where’s Cass?”

His grin disappeared a little, but he pulled his back to his face with ease. “Wow, I’m really feeling the love here, Mari.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, we both know Cass is the best person to ever exist.”

Duke nodded his agreement and came over to take a seat next to her. She cozied up to him as usual, curled under his arm as he pulled up their newest show on his laptop…

She had a lot of thoughts about Cass being missing.

On the one hand, she just missed her friend’s too-warm body pressed up against her and quiet complaints about how the actors were doing it all wrong.

On the other hand… Marinette was completely aware that they had Cass stopping by as much as she did to check on Marinette, to see if they were making any real progress with her. Cass was a human lie detector, able to detect when someone was going to be dishonest before they’d even realized it themselves, and they’d be stupid not to take advantage that. So, the fact that they were no longer making Cass drop in as often… either they thought she was doing better, or that she never would do better.

Marinette hoped it was the first. She knew it was the second.

She found it harder than usual to enjoy Duke’s snide comments about how dumb and cliche some of the characters were. She turned and pressed her face into his side. The glasses on the bridge of her nose dug into her skin.

Fuck. She was never getting out of there, was she?

She felt his free hand come up to run through her hair and she sighed.

“Duke…”

He pressed pause on the show.

“Tim told me you’re a meta, that you can control light. Can you do it for me?”

There was a beat.

“Why do you ask?”

She laughed a little. “Does it matter? Can’t I just be curious about why my favorite brother didn’t even bother to tell me that he has powers?”

“I thought you already knew. It’s common knowledge.”

She huffed. “Maybe I just prefer to be told things than meticulously look through every piece of information to figure it out.”

“What kind of bat are you?” He joked.

She winced and the hand in his shirt balled it just a fraction tighter. She didn’t respond.

There was a few seconds before he sighed and moved his hand from his hair to her chin, gently pulling her face out of where it was hidden in his side. She refused to meet his eyes.

It was silent again, neither of them sure what to say.

“Here,” he said after a moment, putting his free hand out and making light dance across his palm.

Her face lit up, literally and figuratively, at the sight of the tiny ball of light. She leaned a little closer.

“Aw, it looks like a tiny sun!”

He laughed a little. “Yeah. I can also…”

There was a moment of silence as he concentrated and the tiny ball of light split into the colors of the rainbow. She giggled, reaching out to cup his hand in hers. It was the first non-artificial light she’d seen in months, the first rainbow she’d seen since… Paris, actually.

Well, even if she wouldn’t ever see the outside world again, at least she could still have this little fake sun. It was basically the same, just as good, she told herself. She ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks that were telling her otherwise.

~

She tossed the plastic spoon she’d stolen from one of her meals in the air idly.

The plan had been to turn it into Baby’s First Shank but that probably wasn’t going to work out. Pen to the throat was at about a .01% chance of working, attacking him with a spoon-knife needed a few more zeroes added to that already insanely small number. She gave it a .000000001% chance at best.

Then again, the other option was trying to strangle someone who had an insane height and weight advantage to death before someone else could interfere...

She sighed to herself and put the spoon in her teeth, starting to pull.

She didn’t get very far before she heard the metallic whoosh of the door opening and she barely glanced up to see Dick.

He stared at her from the doorway, his eyebrows slowly raising as he watched her attempt to bite an edge into a spoon of all things.

She pulled it from her mouth with a ‘pop’.

“I think your eyebrows are trying to escape,” she told him.

He blinked at her before rolling his eyes and walking inside fully. “Thanks for the assist. Would have lost them otherwise,” he said sarcastically.

“I’ve seen you lose your phone three minutes after putting it down, Dickie, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

He gasped and rested a hand over her heart. “You think that low of me?”

“Lower. I was being nice.”

Dick pouted and walked over to the bed. She didn’t think much of it until he was diving onto her stomach. She put her hands out in an attempt to soften the blow, but it wasn’t enough to save her. She groaned in pain as his extremely hard head made contact with her not-so-hard stomach.

“FUCK. This is why your parents called you Dick, y’know!”

He only laughed at her.

Despite herself, she gave him a smile.

She rested her head back in the pillows for a moment (mostly just to catch all the breath she’d lost) before pushing him off. “Ready?”

He groaned into her comforter before rolling onto the floor. “‘Kay.”

Marinette grinned as she took a seat beside him, starting her usual stretches. He pushed himself up to sit with minimal groaning and started working on his shoulders.

It was quiet for a while as they stretched.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on her foot when she spoke next: “Dick?”

She could feel his gaze on her.

“I… can I have some more stuff? Everything here is so boring. I just… I want new things to do. Or, at least, new things to look at.”

There was a long silence between them. Anxiety bubbled under her skin. She switched legs so she could gauge his expression through her bangs. His expression was carefully neutral.

She cringed.

“Obviously I’m not ungrateful! You guys have all been really nice and accommodating! I get food and a phone and, honestly, that’s fine --!”

“Mari!”

Her mouth snapped closed.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. Anyone would be bored here. I can talk to them. It’ll probably depend on what you want.”

She finally looked at him properly, eyes wide. She really hadn’t been expecting that to work.

He slowly pulled his legs to him to sit criss-cross applesauce, head resting on his hand. “I can probably get some baking things, a sketchbook, just blunt objects in general. Deadly, but not before someone could get there.”

Marinette nodded her understanding, a smile making its way across her face.

“You’re the best.”

“You constantly say Duke and Cass are the best.”

She was torn between agreeing with herself and flattering him. Since she wanted something, she decided on flattery: “That was, like, a few hours ago. I’ve grown since then. You’re my favorite now, Dickie.”

“Can I get that as my ringtone?”

“Only if you only use it to mess with Jay.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

~

The door whoosed open and she barely moved her head to look at it.

She froze.

Bruce?

No. No way. There was no way in hell.

But was there? Cass HAD stopped coming. Maybe she had somehow convinced them that everything was working out and everything was fine.

Marinette hadn’t done anything differently, though, so that probably wasn’t it…

Oh. Oh shit.

Maybe she was actually going insane. Because there was no way the bats would have made that kind of mistake by letting Bruce in when she was still intent on murdering him. He had to be a hallucination, because nothing else really made sense. Kwami, Tim was going to be SO smug about this one.

Actually, no, he didn’t have to know.

Her gaze slipped away from Fake Bruce and back to the dots on her ceiling. Because, as everyone knows, that if you don’t acknowledge hallucinations they go away…

“Marinette,” Fake Bruce said, trying to trick her into outing herself as losing it.

“Marinette,” he tried again, starting his way over.

She did her best to ignore the footsteps and the way the bed shifted when he sat down. No wonder schizophrenics fell for this shit, this was all so real…

Except... weren’t schizophrenics not supposed to be able to tell what was real and what wasn’t? Wouldn’t her knowing (thinking?) he was fake be an indication that he was actually real? Or was that just her mind trying to justify believing it?

Marinette bit inside of her cheek and let herself look at Fake Bruce again.

He cracked a smile for her. A hand reached over and pushed some hair away from her face. “Hey,” he said.

She hesitated.

It would suck if this all was fake, the others would get confirmation and she really wouldn’t have a way out. But if it was real then this was her only shot. If it was real Cass would be watching the cameras to see what she was thinking and she would know for sure that Marinette was still intent on killing Bruce…

Fuck.

Marinette pushed herself into a sitting position and looked Maybe-Bruce up and down before grabbing him by the front of his suit and pulling him into a hug. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes when he hugged her back.

“Fake.”

The man tensed underneath her and then sighed as he pulled back.

He gave her an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”

She shook her head slightly and fell back. With a flick of her wrists the knife she’d created out of her plastic spoon was in her hands and she absently tossed it at the hallucination. Either it would make him disappear or it would look like it stabbed him and she could pretend that it actually happened.

But then it didn’t do either of those things.

Her eyebrows knit together when the spife shattered upon impact.

He looked unconcerned as he gently swept all the pieces into his hand and then put them in his pockets.

“The fuck?”

“Language,” he chided lightly.

She grinned. “You really need to work on your ‘Bruce’. Accepting a hug that quickly is one thing but chiding someone for language? In OUR family? I’m pretty sure he gave that up by Jason.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Superman.”

“Oh.” She blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. “Okay. You look just like Bruce. It’s kinda creepy.”

“Yeah, trust me, we know. It’s pretty helpful, though. One time a person tried to assassinate Bruce and ended up fighting me. It wasn’t their day.”

She smiled a little, but it didn’t last very long. She fell back in her pillows and glared at the ceiling. “This sucks.”

“I’m sorry this all happened to you. You’re just a kid.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d long-since given up on denying that something had happened to her. Not because she no longer believed it, but because it wasn’t worth the effort. No one ever believed her when she said it.

(Could she blame them? No. She almost believed it herself just a few moments before. Still annoying, though.)

Instead of saying any of that, though, she brought a grin to her face.

“You and B should switch houses for April Fools. See if anyone notices anything.”

~

She really should have noticed something was up when her coffee didn’t energize her at all.

It had all been going fine. She was making Jason dispose of all the pieces of food she’d used sleight of hand to get away with not eating (she was still a little bitter about him stealing her pen and this was the most she could really do to get back at him, compromised as she was). They made idle conversation, mostly just about how Damian had got himself a new pet cat that he had named BatCat (though, apparently, they had heard him slip up and call him Charles a few times). They debated over how good that name was and the merit of Jason’s suggestion -- BatPussy, of course -- as she drank her third cup of coffee of the day.

It was about halfway through her drink that she began to notice that something was off. She squinted at Jason suspiciously.

“Decaf?” She asked, her voice worryingly sweet.

He raised his eyebrows and tried to look unimpressed despite stepping back a good half-step. “Please, if it was decaf classical conditioning still would’ve made it work at least a little.”

She opened her mouth to retort, then realized he was right. Or, at least, she was pretty sure. She couldn't seem to think of anything against it.

She frowned, looking down at her drink again and swirling the contents around. She drank the rest of it, trying to figure out why exactly it wasn’t working.

Was she already at the point where caffeine had little effect on her again? She didn’t think she was that bad yet… hell, she probably couldn’t be because she was depending on others to give her her fix…

She shook her head slightly and then quickly realized that was a bad idea. Pain stabbed through her skull and she stumbled into Jason. The plastic thermos slipped from her fingertips and went rolling across the floor. Her head crashed into his chest and arms were quick to wrap around her.

“You got shitty coffee, try a different place next time,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

He laughed a little. “Yeah, okay, kid. I’ll be sure to do that.”

She nodded as much as her headache would allow and felt the arms around her slip down to pick her up. She blinked her eyes open blearily and regretted it when the light attempted to murder her via knife to the head.

Heh. Little light particles with little knives.

Wait.

Did she get a concussion? Somehow? Without getting hit?

She buried her face in his shoulder and it was then, as he set her in bed and tucked her in, that she realized what had happened.

“Bitch,” she murmured above whatever drug they had put in her drink.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she could do little more than scrunch up her nose and vaguely wave him off. Her eyes fell closed again.

~

Marinette woke up a while later.

The first thing she noticed was that the lights were dimmer, something she didn’t have to open her eyes to see because her head wasn’t pounding as much.

Then she realized a person was with her. They had entwined themselves around her, tangled their limbs with hers. They needn’t have bothered, everything felt like lead. She wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.

… why was she being held down? Oh no. That was probably bad, huh?

Marinette made a sound in the back of her throat and started trying to shift away from the person pressed against her back. She needed to see who they were. They didn’t bother to tighten their hold on her, she wasn’t really getting anywhere.

In fact, a hand stopped holding her down. Instead, it came up to pet her hair.

Oh? This was nice.

A voice by her head told her it was all okay. After a moment she realized she recognized that voice. She smiled sleepily. Cass. She liked Cass. She pressed closer to her and was rewarded with a hand rubbing up and down one of her arms.

She nearly fell asleep again. Cass was safe, Marinette was safe… the warmth against her and the soothing touch… of course, it certainly helped that the drug was still in her system and she was exhausted...

But then her mind wandered back to her first question. Why WAS Cass holding her down? Why did they drug her in the first place?

She moved so her hair could block some of the light and then cautiously cracked her eyes open.

The batboys were all moving things inside almost silently. Jason was carrying an entire fridge on his own. Dick and Damian were arguing over the positioning of the table they had just brought in through angry hand motions. Tim and Duke were working together on… was that a gaming set?

And she was being held down because the door was wide open.

Marinette looked at the doorway for just a moment longer. She allowed herself to imagine getting out and swinging through the city with her lasso, allowed herself to pretend she could lay in the grass, allowed herself to believe that she could see the sun and the stars and just breathe fresh air again…

And then she closed her eyes and sunk into Cass’s grip.

What was the point in trying? Even if she could somehow beat out all six of the people in the room with her and get past whatever security Bruce had to have outside of the room all while drugged… then what? No money or idea where she was… and she’d be running from the bats of all people…

Yeah. Useless. She curled up and allowed sleep to take her again.

~

Quite a while later she woke up and blinked a few times when she realized she wasn’t the only person in bed. At first she thought it was just Cass or Tim, they were the most likely culprits, but then she realized everyone had managed to cram themselves onto the bed with her. Her and Cass had gotten brushed to the side of the bed to make space for Tim, Dick, and Damian. Jason had collapsed across the end of the bed -- presumably for space, but Duke was laying half on top of him so that obviously hadn’t worked out.

Marinette smiled faintly and buried her face back into the crook of Tim’s neck.

~

When she woke up again, most of the drug flushed from her system (somehow…?), she thought she was alone.

This was fine. She was able to stretch out and sit up.

She blinked when she saw Damian, who was sitting on her floor and playing a video game.

Huh? Video game?

She looked around her room confusedly. The bats had basically made her a one-room apartment, complete with kitchenette and a tiny study area. Of course, it was much higher quality than the apartment she’d had, with a high tech gaming system and a little dining area and holy shit that was a MINI LIBRARY?

Wild.

“You’re finally up.”

She hummed lightly as an agreement. She crawled over to the end of the bed and smiled when he handed her a twizzler. It was objectively one of the worst candies, but she liked having something to do. She twirled it in her hand idly.

“Do you think… do you think it’s working?”

She frowned confusedly and dropped off the bed to sit beside him on the second beanbag chair. She chanced a quick glance in his direction to gauge how he was feeling... his expression didn’t let anything on other than that he was thinking hard, though she was pretty sure that was about the game.

“Gonna elaborate on that?”

He clicked his tongue. “Are you going to join the Undead Robins Club?”

She grinned at him. “I wasn’t a Robin.”

“You know what I mean.”

Her smile disappeared a little and she trained her eyes on the game. “I don’t know.”

“You know we never will know for sure, right?”

She blinked. She hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge it. They were the bats, they were never going to chance taking off her glasses because if they were wrong and she WASN’T better… well, it wasn’t the kind of mistake they could easily come back from.

“Yeah, I know,” she said after a few moments.

“Do you care?”

“Doesn't really matter if I do. It won’t change anything.”

He frowned. “That’s not answering my question.”

She bit her cheek. “I… yes. I care. It still doesn’t matter.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but instead he just went back to playing the game.

“Damiiiiiiiii…” she whined and, when he gave a vague grunt to show he was paying attention, she continued with “... shouldn’t I get to play first? It’s mine.”

“You slept in too long,” he said without looking up.

She huffed. “Only ‘cause I was drugged!”

“Unfortunate.”

She got off the beanbag chair and whacked him over the head with it. He barely acknowledged it outside of an annoyed click of his tongue.

She huffed and pulled the chair back to herself to sit again. “Is it two player?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a bitch.”

He clicked his tongue again.

She pouted for a little while longer before looking back at the screen with a smile. “... heard you got a cat named Charles. Wanna talk about him?”

Damian’s face lit up. “Can I?”

“Only if you let me play.”

He looked pained. If he gave it to her then he’d be giving her something she’d want, which was a sibling no-no, but if he didn’t then she probably wouldn’t listen to him gush about his cat. A few moments went by before he reluctantly handed over the controller.

She beamed and scooted her chair over to rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel him stiffen underneath her but, when she didn’t move again outside of what was necessary to play the game, he relaxed again.

“I thought you were going to listen,” he chided lightly when she didn’t take a break between levels.

“I can listen and play.”

Damian sighed a little and shook his head.

“You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want --.”

“I’m getting to it! So, he’s a black cat that apparently hadn’t been adopted because everyone thought he was evil so the pet store was going --.”

~

Marinette noticed something was up the minute the door opened.

First of all, it was Duke and Damian. That’s all that really needs to be said. Those two together… it’s never a good thing.

Secondly, they were there as Signal and Robin. Most of the time the others avoided even talking about their lives as vigilantes for fear of setting her off in one way or another, but here they were showing up in their suits? No, something weird was going on.

“Hey, Mari, can we skip a fight and you just put a bag over your head and let us pick you up?” Tried Duke.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You want to…? Huh?”

“We don’t really have much time to explain. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Damian held up a potato sack and some twine, which really wasn’t all that encouraging.

She hesitated. “... what’s something only you two would know?”

“Really?” Said Damian with more than a little exasperation.

“Hey, we’re all bats here. I’m not moving until you prove you’re who you say you are.”

(Technically, if they were really Duke and Damian, they could fight her and do it anyways. She probably couldn't beat both of them at once. Still, that kind of fight would hurt all of them and she really didn’t want to have to do it at the moment.)

Duke hesitated before shrugging. “Your favorite ice cream flavor is mint. Which I don’t understand. Just brush your teeth if you like that taste so much.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, you’re who you say you are. Robin?”

“… early on I lied and said that Nightwing’s real hero name was actually BatNightwing to mess with you both.”

She frowned. “I forgot about that. You’re a dick.”

“No, Nightwing’s a Dick. He’s a Damian.”

Marinette was THIS CLOSE to fighting them anyways.

But she didn’t. She was kinda curious about where all this was going. So, she allowed them to bind her hands and slip a bag over her head. Arms wrapped around her -- she didn’t really care who it was -- and she was lifted off the ground. Then, they were walking.

Part of her wondered if this was some kind of test. They were checking to see how compliant she was or how likely she would be to run once outside. Maybe they had Superman on call in case she tried to escape.

She really couldn’t tell.

She didn’t think that they had any reason to take her out of the perfectly safe and well-stocked place they had put her in.

Maybe her location had been compromised and they were moving her to a backup? No, that didn’t make sense. Duke made sense for transport, Damian didn’t. Damian was one of the worst fighters in the family (he was in no way BAD at fighting, of course, it was just a byproduct of being in the game the shortest amount of time and not being a meta) and he was the second most likely person to end up fighting her after Jason. What the fuck?

Wait, Duke said he’d explain on the way.

“What’s going on?”

“New idea on how to bring you back,” said Duke simply.

Well, she guessed that was more information than she’d previously had. She’d take it for now.

She heard a quiet whooshing noise and frowned confusedly, only to feel herself get set down… somewhere. She felt carpeting underneath her, which meant she was in… a house? No. A car, she thought as she noticed the quiet hum of an engine. She’d been put in the fucking trunk. She kicked out as much as she could without knowing exactly where they were and gave a cry of protest, but then the lid was clicked over her head and she was thrown into uncomfortably complete silence.

She scowled to herself. She shouldn’t have thrown her spife at Superman, it would have been really useful right then. She tested the bindings against her hands and winced at how tight they were. Did they really use zip ties? Those were notoriously bad for circulation.

… oh. Yeah. She was dead. That actually wasn’t that bad, then.

Still annoying. Hard to get out of. Assholes. She wondered if it was worth dislocating her arms…

Yeah. Probably. If she could get out then she would be OUT.

She flipped herself onto her stomach. She pulled her feet up to her arms and then started pushing back. Her body strained in protest and she bit down on the front of the bag over her head to stop herself from making any sounds.

And then she felt a pop in her left shoulder and a flare of pain and the makeshift gag wasn’t enough to hold back her sobs. Her arm throbbed and it was only made worse when they reached the city proper and the roads started getting choppy. Every little bump in the road sent a new wave of pain rolling through her and all she could do was ride it out.

They started hitting smoother roads what felt like hours later... it was kind of concerning because she had no clue where they could be, those were uncommon in Gotham, but at least she no longer felt like she was going to die every few seconds.

She took a few seconds to bring her breathing back to normal before she started slowly wiggling her arms out under her butt and legs and then they were in front of her. Great. She picked herself up as much as she could in the tiny space, checked her angle mentally, relaxed her muscles, and then dropped down on her shoulder to get it back in place.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. It felt weird and still kind of hurt but at least it was mostly better.

She pulled the bag off of her head and relished in the slightly fresher air.

She looked down at the zip ties on her wrists and she sighed a little. Time to do that hack that looked stupid but actually worked if the kidnappers were stupid enough to leave you alone.

She brought her feet up, untied the laces of her shoes, and tied them back around the ties. Then she set to work trying to saw at the zip tie.

She paused when she heard the low rumbling of a plane. Were they near an airport? Oh. That was going to be a problem. She went faster.

Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t get very far before there was a click and the trunk opened.

She cried out in pain at the sudden light and squeezed her eyes shut, turning to press her face into the carpeted interior.

Hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the trunk. Before she could do much to look around so she could get her bearings and make herself a portal, the bag was forced over her head again and a strong grip on her arm (the good one, thankfully) kept her from pulling it off again. Then someone knelt in front of her and fixed her shoelaces.

“Really, NightMare?” Duke said, unimpressed.

“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

Damian scoffed.

Someone picked her up again and she sighed as they carried her along. They were definitely at an airport. She could hear people milling about. She was sure it was Gotham, too; she could feel a few stares, but most people seemed comfortable with the vigilantes among them.

Then came the normal airport stuff. Walking. Some arguing over whether she counted as luggage or if she could go through the metal detector with them. Sitting. A little chatting with civilians. More walking. More sitting. Very light chatter, just formalities and asking for drinks (Duke, who she figured out was the person carrying her, slipped a box of orange juice up her bag so she could have something). And then they were in the air.

After some time in the air the bag and zip ties were removed. She kept her eyes closed to let them adjust to light naturally and instead focused on rubbing feeling back into her hands.

One English alphabet later, she opened her eyes.

They were in a private plane (or was it a jet?), which explained why it was as quiet as it was. Damian was drinking a glass of water and reading something on his phone. Duke was nibbling at some complimentary pretzels and working a Rubix Cube. They both glanced in her direction from time to time, but they seemed pretty confident that she couldn’t do anything while they were in the air (which was true, but annoying).

She looked around a little more and found that there were no other bats.

“Um… where’re…?” She trailed off, unsure.

They stopped glancing in her direction, ignoring her and her question. The frown that had been on her face since pretty much when they’d first taken her from the room deepened.

“Do they… do they know what’s going on?”

The silence spoke volumes.

She rested her head in her hand. “I’m going to need something stronger than a juice box for this.”

Duke sighed but called a friendly looking woman inside to get her some wine. Marinette and Duke sipped at a glass each (Damian wasn’t allowed any, something Marinette took a little too much joy in). She scrutinized the two over the rim of her glass.

“Are you going to explain or let me guess? Because letting me guess is going to end up with me assuming you’re doing something way worse than you actually are.”

Damian sighed a little. “It’s hard to explain.”

“We’re in a plane. I’m going to guess we have time. Start talking.”

“We drugged them all -- except Orphan, she’s just out doing patrols and won’t know what’s going on for a good few hours -- and grabbed you.”

Duke gave Damian a pleading look to make him continue for them.

Damian, reluctantly, put down his phone to talk. “Signal and I have an idea on how to bring you back from the dead. The others won’t like it, especially not Red Hood, so we’re making the executive decision to not ask.”

Marinette didn’t know a lot about when Jason had been resurrected, it was a sensitive subject so it was avoided pretty much at all costs. All she’d gathered was that it was a rather messy experience for everyone involved.

She rested her head on her hand and then looked back down at her drink. She snatched the bottle from the table and, when Duke protested, set him a glare and started drinking directly from it. They were actually going to bring her back through probably shady means. She was NOT drunk enough for this shit.

~

She got stuffed in a suitcase when they left, which was extremely insulting (and a little embarrassing, if she were honest).

She rested her head against the side of the suitcase and listened to the dull thrum of people talking on the other side. She vaguely recognized the language, both Nino and Damian both spoke it when frustrated, but the words were all Greek to her.

Well, they were all Arabic, but you get the point.

~

She didn’t even realize she had been asleep until she was awoken. Rather abruptly. The zipper for the suitcase was opened and she tumbled out. Marinette cursed in French as she hit the ground and laid there, her entire body aching from not moving for so long. She hadn’t known her face could get pins and needles, she wished she could go back to her blissful ignorance.

“Are you sure about this? You want to save her?” A woman’s voice said above her, sounding a little skeptical.

Marinette forced herself to roll over so she could glare at whoever it was, she knew when she was being insulted, and then she blinked up at the new person.

A tall woman with dark skin and hair and a body to die for stood above her, hands on her hips.

“Holy shit, Dami. You got terrible genes. She’s gorgeous and you’re… you? What?”

Duke hid laughter behind his hand and Damian scoffed.

Amusement flickered behind Talia’s ‘I could kill you before you could even scream’ expression. “I’ve changed my mind. I like her.”

“Cool,” said Marinette as she quickly pushed herself to her feet. Her body wasn’t ready for that, but that was the least of her concerns. The pretty lady was ushering her along and Marinette wasn’t going to hold her up if she could help it.

“How did you die?” Talia said, which was an interesting choice for conversation.

Marinette shrugged, though, unconcerned. “I don’t know, really, there wasn’t this ‘oh, wow, I’m dead’ moment. My guess is I either drowned in acid or died of dehydration at some point. Does it change anything or…?”

“No. Just curious.”

“Oh. Good.”

“... do you not know why you’re here?” Asked Talia carefully after a moment’s contemplation.

Marinette shook her head. “Nah, they’ve been avoiding telling me. I assume it’s painful.”

“... yes. Very.”

The four lapsed into silence after that.

Marinette felt weirdly on edge as they walked through the facility, her hands rubbing the goosebumps that were prickling along her arms. The further they walked, the more on edge she felt. They were approaching something unnatural, something so undeniably WRONG, and she needed to GO.

But Damian and Duke were behind her, probably sensing her unease, and running ahead would only get her there faster… so she walked.

She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to ground herself.

But, the moment they stepped into the room, she froze.

Green water. That apparently hurts.

Acid.

“FUCK.”

Duke was ready for her to run, apparently, stood in front of the only exit and ready for a fight before she could even get a full step away from the hell that awaited her.

“No no no no no no wait it’s fine I actually don’t mind being dead it’s fine guys please --.”

Damian grabbed her arms and she choked out a sob,

“Damian god damn it I was kidding about the mom thing you’re perfectly attractive or whatever I promise I really didn’t think it would hurt you that much we don’t need to do this let’s tALK IT OUT --!”

“It’s not about that --!”

Duke managed to get a hold on one of her legs and lifted and all she had to struggle against either of them was a foot and she was SO fucked --.

“PLEASE DUKE PLEASE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT I PROMISE I CAN BE BETTER YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GO I’LL BE FINE WE CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT PLEASE --.”

Talia grabbed her last leg and she sobbed as she thrashed around uselessly. They started dragging her towards the acid. Nothing to do no way to run no help in sight no --.

“PLEASE! I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!”

And they did. They let her go and she fell into the acid.

[backtothestart02]

Breaking Point - 1/1(?) | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Based off the twitter reaction to Barry time-traveling w/o telling Iris ahead of time in 7x16. This fic is Iris’ reaction once he tells her, and it’s maybe a bit extreme? You’ll have to decide for yourself. I was feelings angsty when I wrote it and when I initially thought it up, so there’s that. If there’s a demand for more of this fic, I’ll gladly write more, but if not, the ending is open to interpretation what could happen next. Oh! And Iris is not blipping in and out of timelines and Godspeed clones didn’t prevent Barry from making it to the future. Enjoy! =P

...

Synopsis:  7x16 - Canon Divergent - Time-Travel has its consequences.

...

When Barry returned from 2049, he was brimming with energy. Lightning was still crackling all around him when he came to a stop back in STAR Labs. Chester and Caitlin looked at him, intrigued. When he didn’t say anything, only grinned, Chester couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

“Well, how is everything? Did it all go okay?”

He rocked back and forth from his toes to his heels, Barry’s enthusiasm contagious.

“Yeah,” Caitlin added, also curious but more amused than anything by the two of them. “We thought for a second that something went wrong, because-”

“No, no, nothing went wrong. Everything is great!” Barry sighed contently.

Caitlin laughed and shared a look with Chester.

“So, you found Nora,” she concluded.

��Not just Nora.”

“Oh?”

But just as he was about to spill the beans, it occurred to Barry that maybe future details should be kept where they belonged. In the future.

Except with Iris. He could tell her. In fact, right now there was nothing more that he wanted to do was tend to her and assure her Nora was all right – and she wasn’t alone.

“Yeah, I gotta go.”

He pushed past the two of them and headed towards the end of the tunnel.

“W-wait, Barry!”

Reluctantly, he stopped.

“What about Godspeed?”

“Yeah,” Chester chimed in. “If it’s bad here, it must be really bad in 2049 where he’s from.”

“Oh.” Barry forced himself to sober up. “Yeah, it is. What I mean to say is…Nora, she’s…she’s got thing’s handled, working hard.” He started smiling again. “And she has help!” Chester and Caitlin’s intrigued looks told him he had to sputter some nonsense fast. “From me! Future me, I mean. I’m still the Flash. In 23 years, I’m still…” He trailed off, daydreaming briefly about the things he’d just seen and experienced.

Sensing more questions from the two individuals in front of him however, he forced himself to snap out of it.

“Well, I gotta go! Text me when the Godspeeds return.”

“Wait, where are y-”

But it was no use. Barry had flashed away. There was no calling out to him with the expectation of him hearing and returning unless, as he’d said, the Godspeed clones returned and he was needed to attempt to defeat them.

“Let him be,” Chester said, brushing whatever questions they’d had aside. “He’s clearly happy. It’s been a while since we’ve seen him like that, what with everything going on. In fact, the last time I saw him that happy was-”

Caitlin studied him as he fell silent and avoided eye contact.

“What? When?” she asked.

“N-Nothing. Nevermind.” He powerwalked out into the hallway. “See you upstairs, Caitlin!”

She eyed his disappearing form with suspicion but decided not to push on that either. After a few more moments of contemplation, she followed the path Chester had taken back to the cortex upstairs.

…

When Barry reached the loft shortly thereafter, he was greeted by darkness and silence. It wasn’t alarming enough to dim his buzz though. He was too excited to talk to Iris. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t feeling well and to lower his voice when he talked to her, as well as maybe bring her something to eat and drink. She hadn’t vomited in a couple days, but she was still feeling under the weather. He had to contain his excitement enough to be a devoted, caring husband tending to her in her sickness.

He could do that, definitely.

As quietly as he could manage, he whipped together some chicken noodle soup and crackers and put them on a tray. Walking as stealthily as he could towards the staircase, he made it step by step without spilling the entrée.

Proud of himself for that, he gently kicked their bedroom door open with his foot.

“Iris, I brought you something.”

When he looked up, he was greeted to the sight of her reading in bed. She attempted a small smile when she saw what he was carrying and set her book to the side.

“Hey, Bear,” she said warmly, albeit with a croak to her voice. “What’s all this?”

His heart sank just a little at the sound of her, but it couldn’t quelch all the enthusiasm he had buried just beneath the surface.

He approached the bed, making sure to keep the tray even.

“The Godspeeds are currently not in Central City, at least in our time, so I thought I’d come home and dote on my wife a little.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet.”

She gripped the tray as he set it on her lap.

“And also to tell you that everything with Nora is alright.”

She froze, her hand halfway to the spoon, her other gripping the far side of the tray.

“What do you mean, alright?”

“Well…you know how I had that dream about Nora that made me think…” he trailed off, embarrassed now and not wanting to emotionally wound her like he’d done before.

“Barry,” she said softly.

“Well, I had another one, and it was…Nora was in danger, everything was wrong, I couldn’t breathe…” He shook his head, trying to shake himself of that dream. He had such a wonderful reality to replace it with now, but it was still hard to talk about.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, gently reaching for his hand.

Slowly, he sat on the side of the bed.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he admitted. “Plus, I didn’t know if you’d think I was ridiculous for getting upset by it given the last time I dreamed of Nora…well, it came to mean nothing, didn’t it?” He frowned.

Iris closed her eyes and shook her head.

“A nightmare is a nightmare, Barry. They’re upsetting to anyone whether they mean something or not. Remember when Psych infected the whole city with nightmares? Everyone was frightened, and with good reason.”

He nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“It’s okay.” She offered a small smile. “You’re okay now it looks like.”

“Oh, yeah,” he assured her, his good mood quickly returning. “Better than okay.”

She managed a small, raspy laugh.

“And why is that?” She scooped up some broth on her spoon and blew on it.

“Well, because I went to the fu…ture.”

Belatedly, he realized that she might not like this bit of news. Especially given their two-seconds-ago talk that he should communicate things to her right away.

He gulped as he watched her lay down her spoon on the side of the bowl and set the tray on his side of the bed. He wondered if he’d still be sleeping there tonight.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Her voice was low and even, but her eyes were wild. She was not happy.

“Okay, look, I know I should’ve probably talked to you first.” He sprang up to his feet. “But Dig told me-”

“Dig was here?” she blanched.

His hand went behind his head where he awkwardly scratched.

“Yeah, he showed up with some new tech to use to help in the Godspeed war.”

She looked at him in disbelief.

“We caught one of the Godspeeds, but then he broke out and the tech broke, and I yelled at Chester, and all of this because, well…” He sat back down again. “I couldn’t stop thinking about Nora in those dreams. I was so worried about her, what all of this meant for her time. If there’s so much chaos and destruction right now in Central City, imagine in her time where they’re from. All I wanted to do was go check on her, make sure she was alright.”

“So, that’s what you did, I assume,” Iris said bitterly.

“After Dig talked me into it, yeah.”

“And who else did you tell about your grand adventure?”

Feeling uneasy now, he stood up again.

“I uh…told Cecile.”

“And?”

He swallowed. “And Chester and Caitlin.”

“So, everybody.” Angrily, Iris flung back the covers and forced herself out of bed, heading for the exit as fast as she could get there. “Everybody but me.”

“Iris, wait, please-”

He followed her at normal speed, not wanting to upset her further by jumping ahead of her in under a second.

She stopped suddenly once they got to the first floor.

“Did it ever occur to you, Barry, that this might be a bad idea?”

His eyes widened.

“Of course! It’s why I needed to be talked into it. Dig convinced me that making family my number one priority was the most important thing, more important than being here for when the Godspeeds returned again.”

“I suppose he neglected to mention how it shouldn’t be a decision you make on your own in the end, that you should discuss it with your wife, who I don’t know, maybe would die of happiness seeing her daughter again?” Her voice broke.

Barry’s heart crumbled.

“Iris, you were sick. You’re still sick. Traveling at super speed would’ve made you even more sick. Even if…even if you’re not…”

“Spit it out, Barry. If I’m not what? If I’m not pregnant?”

His eyes dipped down to the floor.

“Maybe it’s a good thing I’m not.”

His eyes flashed to hers.

“What do you mean?”

She closed some of the distance between them, no-nonsense in her tone when she spoke.

“How many times, Barry? How many times are you going to make life-changing decisions without talking to me first? Decisions that involve our children? That could change life as we know it? As they know it? Given your very happy mood when you showed up, I assume all was well in 2049?”

He gulped and nodded.

“Yes.”

“Well, suppose it won’t be after your little visit? And even if it is, Barry…you have to talk to me. It’s important that we’re a team. That’s what I signed up for when I married you, that we would communicate and be a unit in everything we did. I thought you had gotten past doing things rashly, based entirely on your emotions, but-”

“But I didn’t do it based on my emotions! I had to be talked into it, don’t you see? It was Dig that-”

“Oh, shut up about Dig!”

That silenced him.

“You used his advice as an excuse to go ahead and do what you know in your heart you were going to do anyway.”

“Iris.”

“No.” She shook her head and turned away, then stopped and looked back at him. “I thought you were ready. I thought we were ready. And I was excited when you called me a week ago claiming you knew that I was pregnant, only for it to just be based on some wishful thinking dream you had.”

He swallowed hard.

“You’re not ready, Barry. And I don’t know if you ever will be.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

Cautiously, he approached her.

“What are you saying, Iris?”

She took a breath and licked her lips.

“I’m saying I don’t want to try for Nora anymore. Not now, not for a while, maybe not… Maybe not ever.”

His jaw dropped. He couldn’t speak.

She closed her eyes and tears seeped out.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her breath hitching. “But right now, I don’t think you’d make a good father.”

Shell-shocked, he took one step back and then froze. Everything inside him came to a standstill. It even felt like his heart had stopped. Memories of meeting adult Nora again and…and her brother, who was apparently such a mama’s boy. To think they might not even exist in the future all because of this conversation right here.

He thought Iris would want to know all about their future children, but now…

“I’m going back upstairs,” she informed him, her tone clipped in the deafening silence of their living room. “Please don’t follow me.”

“Iri-” he tried, but she held up a hand to silence him.

“Don’t.”

Feeling helpless, he let her go up the stairs alone.

The sound of their bedroom door closing was so final that it seemed to echo off all the walls around him. Sensing a collapse was near, he entered the living room further and sat down on the couch, immediately putting his head in his hands and rocking slightly.

One thought clear as day drummed through his mind above all the others.

What have I done?

[imaginesforjohnnydepp]

Violette Pt. 4

@kittenlittle24  @evelynrosestuff

Johnny was glad that he took up Violette on her offer because he had to get out of Los Angeles; Violette was a gracious host and they fell back in sync with each other. While she was at work, he took the opportunity to explore the area to find souvenirs for his kids and check up on them, other times he’d go through Violette’s books and movies and photo albums, which were his favorite things to do. The albums were completely filled up with pictures. There were pictures of her at weddings, work related parties, vacation pictures (lots of them), newspaper clippings of her accomplishments. It made him happy knowing that Violette became so successful and is well respected, because she deserves it.

When he heard the keys at the door, he quickly closed the book and turned up the volume on an episode of Chopped just as Violette walked in, shaking water off her umbrella and putting it in the stand.  “Sorry I’m late! I was held up with paperwork then there was a wreck, but on the plus side I got Italian!” It was nearly eight thirty when they sat down to eat, the both of them digging into their shrimp pasta as they filled each other in on their day. Since it was Friday and Violet didn’t have to be at work the next day, they watched TV together after dinner, the living room dark except for a lamp on a low setting. It was halfway through a second episode of Fraser, the one where Fraser accidentally tells Daphne about Niles’ feelings for her before the wedding when Johnny noticed Violette had fallen asleep.

Her head was tipped back and her chest was gently rising and falling; she looked so comfortable and peaceful he felt bad for waking her. Johnny shook her gently. “Hey Vi? It’s time to wake up, you’re gonna hurt your neck like that.” Slowly, Violette came to, lifting her head from the back of the couch, her eyes slowly opening. “Huh? What time is it?” 

Her voice was heavy with sleep and she stretched, arms above her head. “Bout time for you to go to bed. You fell asleep halfway through Fraser.” Violette knew he was right; she had a long day at work and now all she wanted was to apply a serum or two and get into bed. “You’re right, it’s been a long day. Do you want the bathroom first?” He shook his head no, and she smiled  before heading to her room.

“Good night Johnny.” They both headed their separate ways, and as he changed into his pajamas, Johnny could hear Violette doing her night time routine, the faucet running every few minutes as she rinsed her face. He checked his phone for messages, emails from his lawyer and Amber’s, two missed phone calls from his family about funeral arrangements, all things that can wait until tomorrow; he hooked it up to the charger and placed it face down. After a few more minutes, the faucet turned up for the last time, and Violette knocked twice before opening the door. “Bathroom’s all yours now.” 

He tried not to notice how long her legs looked in her pajama pants or how ample her chest looked, even in an oversized shirt. Frankly, ever since he got here, Johnny’s been trying to ignore how gorgeous Violette is; she looked good in just about everything she wore: her work clothes where the slacks she wore clung to her legs like a second skin, the leggings and tank tops he saw her in, drenched in sweat when she came back after a morning run. It was like acting in front of a green screen and trying to ignore how ridiculous Bill Nighy looks with black dots on his face as he wears a gray leotard. Johnny couldn’t ignore the fact that Violette has an ass and breasts, and he felt guilty checking her out when her back was turned, but what could he do? He certainly wasn’t going to tell a grown woman to cover up in her own home; with a sigh, he shuffled into the bathroom to do his business.

Meanwhile, Violette was in bed, simultaneously reading and going through her text messages; due to the torrential rain that would be coming this weekend, book club was cancelled (which she was grateful for because she’s kind of behind the rest of the group). Violette was just about to call it a night when a new message appeared, from Angela. I know you took my floral dress the other day. Mikayla said she saw you leave with it.  Yes, she did take the dress but that’s only because Angela took her favorite Dooney and Bourke handbag (something that happened months ago and Violette has yet to see it back in her closet) but unlike her sister, she plans on actually returning it. And what about it? she typed back. You can pick it up from the dry cleaner on Basin Street tomorrow, and you’re one to talk considering I haven’t seen my Dooney and Bourke purse since New Years.  

Once the message was sent, she went back to her book, which had five chapters left; Violette reached for the notebook and pen and started scribbling notes about the chapter when her phone buzzed again. Thank you. And as for your purse, I think Miki has it. It’s hanging on the doorknob of her closet. Probably thought it was mine. But how’s it going with Johnny? Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, and she didn’t know what to say. How is it going with Johnny? Violette wanted to tell her sister that things are great, like nothing’s changed between them, about her growing feelings for her ex husband, but all she texted back was that things are fine. 

Really, only fine? Leave it to Angela to be overly observant, might as well come clean now. It feels like nothing’s changed between us even though a LOT has. We’re cracking jokes, eating together, going out. It feels like old times. Violette knew what Angela was going to say next: that they need to slow down, how Johnny probably isn’t ready for another relationship when he already has so much going on. She hastily texted: And I know what you’re going to say next, but I can’t help it. He’s still Johnny. I gotta go, it’s late. 

She put her phone on the charger and placed it face down on the nightstand. Violette hoped that all her feelings toward Johnny could just be chalked up to not getting enough sex or boredom or loneliness, because really, what would a relationship with Johnny look like today? Probably a long distance relationship and media interference, and she’d had enough of that from last time to last a lifetime. Besides, Violette never dates men with children, and in her age group, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack to find a single male in their late forties/early fifties who doesn't have children. Shaking her head at the thought, she pulled the covers up over her head and waited for the air conditioner to kick on to lull her to sleep.

So this was how the rest of their week went, both of them pining over the other without the other’s knowledge: Johnny pretended not to notice her figure and his growing attraction and Violette pretended that she didn’t harbor romantic feelings for him, until one day Johnny couldn’t take it any longer. He brought up the question while they sat in Violette’s car at a snowball stand, the a/c blasting and the radio on a low volume. “Why are we doing this, Vi?” The question was so out of left field that she almost choked on a bubblegum flavored hunk of ice. “What do you mean?” she asked, sucking the bubblegum syrup from the ice. 

“I mean, why are we ignoring… whatever this is? We’re adults, Violette, we should be able to communicate with each other.” She was sure she was doing a good job at masking her feelings, but apparently she was wrong. “Because Johnny, it wouldn’t matter. Your life is in LA, with your children and work and my life is here. What could we actually do about it? You’re only here for another week.” Violette was actually glad that he brought it up now, because there was no way they would be able to do anything about it, since Johnny would be here for another week before going home. Leaving Violette alone with her unresolved feelings.

“And you already have so much going on. Are you sure this is what you want? If you’re ready for this?” Violette put another spoonful of her snowball in her mouth, sucking off the syrup until the ice was hard packed on her tongue. “Is that what you’re scared of? That I might leave again?” Johnny asked. “Not might, but will. As you can see, I don’t have a normal work schedule and I’m not a fan of long distance relationships.” And because I’m scared you could hurt me again,” she added in her head.

“Johnny, we’re not in the ‘80s anymore. We’re so different now, we always have been.” Johnny sighed before putting his cup in a cup holder. “We’re not that different, you’re still you and I’m still me. We’re older now, have more life experience. Violette, we were so young when we got married. And I moved on from her long before I thought about filing for divorce.” She took his words into consideration, really thinking about it. Was the reason why she never remarried is because that deep in her subconscious, Violette knew she and Johnny would make their way back to each other?

“Just one chance is all I’m asking. Please.” He looked so sincere, and the offer was so tempting. How many times had Violette had this dream of Johnny coming back to her and begging her to take him back? Too many times in the early days of their breakup, and Johnny was right, they’re older now, old enough to know what they want in their partners. “What do you say? Can you give me another chance? We can take it slow, whatever you want.”

Violette put the last spoonful of her snowball in her mouth, savoring the last bite as she thought it over. While she was a little apprehensive about the whole thing, she’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t at least a little curious as to how a relationship with Johnny would be like today. A lot of traveling back and forth, probably meeting his kids at some point. And what about long term? Would they live together?

 Get married (or in their case remarried)? “We’ll take it slow?” Violette asked, just to make sure. “As slow as you want,” he answered. Violette smiled and grabbed Johnny’s hand. “Okay.”

[ri-ahhh]

bff grayson getting hard while taking a nap or while falling asleep after a movie or something 😍🥺

Your foot taps impatiently as you wait by the microwave for the popcorn to finish popping. The smell of it combined with the sound of the two distinct notes of Netflix opening echoing from the living room are making you anxious to hop on the couch with Grayson. You both agreed to have a movie night in after a stress-filled week for both of you.

“What are we watching?” he yells from the other room, his voice booming and distinctly audible even across a large surface area and the loud popping in the humming microwave. “If you tell me Clueless, I’m going to bed!”

You smile and roll your eyes, pushing the button to open the microwave door as the time between kernels exploding gets bigger. Admittedly, you had subjected him to your favorite movie many, many times since it had been put on Netflix.

“You pick, then!” you call back, ducking down to retrieve a big bowl for the popcorn, hissing when the steam burns your fingers as you open the bag. You grab a couple of Zevias from the fridge as well, tucking them into the pocket of Grayson’s hoodie that you’re wearing and grabbing the bowl to join him in the living room.

His bare back is to you when you walk in, and you smirk as you clutch a handful of his dark hair to yank his head back gently. Grayson yelps dramatically and pouts as he looks up at you upside down. Your belly swoops; he’s too cute. 

“Can we cuddle?” you ask sweetly, trailing your manicured nail over his arched brows, down the bridge of his nose, tapping his puffy pink lips playfully. 

It’s been this way for a while, the two of you dancing around this idea that maybe there’s more between you than being best friends. You’ve both been finding reasons to touch each other innocently lately, or to stay half-naked in your swimsuits long after you’ve retired from the pool outside -- anything to just be closer and put out those signals. It hasn’t manifested into anything, though, both of you too afraid of losing a best friendship to act on it.

His lips pucker against your finger with a little grin, and the tiny gesture sends an inexcusable wave of tingles to your belly. “I guess,” he sighs dramatically, sitting upright again as you smile down at him happily and make your way to the other side of the couch. 

“Ooh, Af-er!” you shout behind a mouthful of popcorn you had just shoved in as you plopped next to him. He stops scrolling on After and looks over at you amusedly. You blush a little and swallow, retrieving the cans from your pocket and handing him one. “Trust me, it’s so bad it’s good. Please?”

He’ll put it on whatever you ask, even if it did end up being Clueless for the millionth time, and you both know it. But he really can’t resist when you utter that little ‘please.’ 

Cut to half an hour later, you’re spooned in front of him, a giant fuzzy throw blanket cocooning your bodies and Grayson’s arm thrown lazily over your waist. You’re only half invested, because the feel of him behind you, so big and warm and solid, is making you a little dizzy. You want him to hook that muscled arm tighter around you, pull you to him and tangle your legs together. There’s enough space between your lower halves for some of the blanket to collect and bunch up there, though.

He shifts behind you and nuzzles some of your hair out of his nose when he does. His breath tickles and you suppress a shiver. It’s even harder when he speaks, and you can feel the vibrato of his voice as much as you can hear it.

“Wait, so that’s supposed to be Harry Styles?” he asks as Hardin takes his shirt off on the lake dock on the TV screen. “They went that far to copy all his tattoos and shit?”

“Yep,” you answer, letting a piece of popcorn dissolve on your tongue slowly.

You both watch for a few more minutes in silence, then his arm lifts to reach for the bowl on the floor. “Popcorn, please.”

You pick it up, but hold it out of his reach last second with a mischievous grin. Grayson scoffs and lunges further this time, trying to reach over you to grab the whole thing. He must lean a little bit farther than he intended, though, because the blanket slips a little and your ass brushes against something hard and... distinct.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you turn back around to face him and see he looks almost as shocked as you, only with raging red cheeks. You have two options here: tease or confess. Expert problem solver that you are, you go with the former.

“Really?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it! It just...happens. And the lake thing is kinda hot.”

“So all it takes for you is a glimpse of a bra and you’re ready to go? I expected more stamina from you, Gray,” you tut, referring to the scene of Tessa’s own state of undress. You hope it’s from more than that, but you’re not about to put your own neck on the line if you’re wrong.

He’s still blushing, but he rolls his eyes. “Really, are you gonna make me say it?

“Say what?” you ask innocently, biting your lip and looking up at him with big eyes.

He pauses, looking down at you with dark, heated eyes. He reaches up and tugs your lip out of your mouth. “It’s not that girl in a bra. It’s you in my hoodie, in my arms, on this couch. It’s every time I see you. Every time I get to be around you.” He stops, and huffs out a little puff of laughter, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. “And I can’t believe I’m about to steal knock-off Harry Styles’ line but...I don’t think we can just be friends. Not on my end, anyways.”

Your chest feels tight, your head in the clouds, your body on fire. It’s only hitting you now how long you’ve wanted to hear him say those exact words. You turn around to face him completely, trailing your foot up his calf as you hitch a leg over his. Your hand snakes up to cup his angular jaw. “Remember what he does next?”

Confusion lights his eyes, then understanding, and he gives you a crooked smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With that, he’s dipping down to kiss you for the first time, and his lips taste better than you could have ever imagined. Even if they are veiled by the salt of the popcorn, they’re sweet and soft and work in tandem with yours perfectly. 

Your leg shifts higher up his waist, allowing your hips to meet, and you moan instantly when the hard ridge of him meets your pulsing center. He groans back, his hand coming to cup your ass to pull you even closer against him. You push his chest, a silent indication for him to roll on his back, and you grin down at him as you straddle his waist once he’s there.

Your pussy grinds rhythmically over his cock, and when your mouths meet again you delve your tongue past his lips this time. You take your time exploring, licking every crevice and sweet spot you can find as you blindly build that pressure in your pussy. You can’t remember the last time you had a good, old-fashioned dry humping makeout on the couch, but it’s just as amazing as you thought it was however long ago.

“Fuck,” he rasps, ripping his mouth away from yours. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, but your voracious for him, and can’t stand the idea of not having your lips or teeth or tongue on him now that you have that pleasure. You move your kisses to his stubbled jaw, then down his neck, stopping with a grin at the place that makes his breath hitch all over again.

Your hips haven't stopped this whole time. Your thin, tiny shorts and equally small thong, and his athletic shorts are practically useless barriers to the heat of your pussy against his raging hard-on. He lets the both of you indulge for a minute before he’s letting out this animalistic growl and a sharp smack to your ass, both of which go straight to your clit, and lifting you clean off his dick.

“You’re gonna make me embarrass myself if you don’t slow down,” he mutters, his face and chest flushed adorably, a little purple mark already blooming on his neck from where you maybe got a little carried away.

You shake your head. “It’s okay,” you whisper heatedly, sitting back a little and hooking your fingers into the waistband of his shorts. “Can I?”

He nods at once, and you smile at his eagerness. You tug them down just enough to let his dick spring out, your mouth watering instantly when you see him for the first time. 

“You’re big,” you admit, spreading his precum around the sensitive tip. You giggle when the whole thing jumps in the air. “You like that?”

He nods again, his hair flopping with the movement, and it only endears him to you even more. You lock eyes with him as you lick your hand and wrap it around his shaft, watching with pure desire how his eyes roll at the simple touch. You start stroking him steadily, your hand twisting at the head while the other makes his eyes shoot open again when he feels it start massaging his balls. 

Grayson starts moaning, and the soft sounds are music to your ears, but you want them louder, more desperate. You lean over and drizzle a stream of saliva onto the head of his thick cock, spreading it all over with a grin when you achieve that and an uncontrollable thrust of his hips at the added wetness. You feel his balls tighten in your hand. “Gonna cum for me, Gray? I want you to. I wanna lick it off you, all off --”

You’re interrupted by a loud moan of your name, and suddenly he’s shooting all up his stomach and chest with these grunts and groans that have your panties ruined for sure. You murmur soft encouragements and keep true to your word when he’s done, releasing him and dipping down to lick up the streaks of white with broad strokes of your tongue. 

When he’s all clean, you show him the last pool of cum on your tongue with a smirk before swallowing. Grayson grins up at you, and hooks a big hand around the back of your head to bring you down to him for a deep, thorough kiss. He sits both of you up, securing a thick arm around your waist and flipping you over, smiling into your mouth when you let out a little squeal and giggle of surprise.

“My turn.”

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 3 of 3)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Dinner is about as awkward as waving back at someone you think's waving at you, only to then realize they're actually waving at someone else.

Frisk stares at your guest from beginning to end, only looking back to their bowl when they’re done with it. They grab a piece of bread and soak up what little soup remains at the bottom and say, “You’re not a bad cook", after. They take a bite off the bread; the rest of it disappears in three more. “Is this ren's way of testing whether you'll be a good boyfriend or not?”

Sans swallows hard and coughs once to recover as he sets his spoon down. “Well, uh… Somethin’ like that, I guess.” He casts a subtle glance at you, his gaze asking for help.

“We’re not dating,” you intervene. You take some soup, but end up throwing it back in the bowl when your hand shakes, too tense to continue eating. “You and Jerry just so happened to walk in at the wrong moment, making it look like something else.”

Frisk frowns, and a dull expression reaches their eyes. “I can tell you’re lying, ren. You’re bad at it.” Their gaze moves back towards Sans, who’s now finished with his bowl and trying to move away from the conversation. “What about you, then? Why’re you chickening out if you still wanna date (Y/N)?” They furrow their eyebrows and glare at the monster. “Why are you-“

“That’s enough, honey.” You stand up and face down at them. “This isn’t his fau-“

“So then, it’s yours?” Their voice breaks as they're the one to rise next; their hands thump over the table and their frown quivers as they attempt not to show any weakness. “He… He flirted with you, so that means he’s also responsible for it!”

“I said that’s enough, Frisk (L/N),” you snap, crossing your arms. “I’m okay with talking about this with you, but not during dinner. And even less when we have a guest over.” You plan to pick up the dishes, though the skeleton beats you to it, excusing himself off to the kitchen. “I’m not dating him, and that's final. That only happened ‘cause we kind of like each other. But I refuse to date anyone until you’re all grown up.”

“You’ll be old by then,” they whine, flailing their arms. “Grandparents can’t date!”

“Yes, they can.” You go along with the ridiculousness of the conversation, too caught up in it to fully assess their words. “And ten more years won’t make me a grandparent! I’m still young.”

Frisk huffs and switches for sign language, saying, “That still doesn’t mean you have to live like this.” They grimace, eyes wetting as they sniffle once. “I like seeing you happy… But right now, this just makes me feel like I'm bothering you.”

Your anger falls with that last sentence; panic replaces it.

In a haste, you try approaching their side, though they run off to their room just as you’re ready to bring them in for a hug. Their steps are quick and the door shuts with a subtle bang, their composure still showing through. You stay in place as their words replay on your mind over and over, gloom arriving. Dismissing them is an impossible feat; your mind continues to subject your thoughts into negativity, restraining you from acting quickly.

If you’d been doing a poor job at raising them this whole time, then what had been the point of it all?

Needing a distraction, you head to the kitchen and join Sans by the sink, no words spoken between you.

He washes the dishes while you dry and store them away, keeping up a rhythmic pace until only the pot’s left. Your gaze focuses on his arms, jacket’s sleeves lifted all the way up to his elbows, revealing the oddity of who you were growing attracted to. His shirt's a bit loose by the neck, presenting you with his collarbones as you spare a peek under it. You're still adapting to the strangeness of having someone look so similar to a human skeleton, yet so different all the same. He could breathe, laugh, move, talk... and even kiss based on first-hand experience. His skull wasn't entirely solid, allowing him to blink, eat, and drink -- besides from what you were thinking of whenever you stared at his face and down at his teeth. You tell yourself it’s wrong to be befriending him, and even worse finding any attraction in him. You’re not sure how to interpret his words from earlier ago, and just what it meant to see him break down like he had.

He’d revealed he disliked who he used to be, but did he remember having said it?

From your experience, moments like those were hard to keep clear.

“Do you… remember what you said to me, Sans?”

His hands stop what they’re doing, one grabbing the knob -- ready to open the faucet -- and the other holding the pot, now coated in suds. He looks up at you, saying, “I cried, didn’t I? Don’t really remember word-for-word, but I know I meant what I said.”

You take a breather before responding with, “Even the part about hating who you used to be?”

Sans turns the knob, letting water pour down. “Yeah.” He nods, heaving out a sigh. “The more I look back and reflect on who I used to be, the more I understand why you don’t trust me.” The pot’s close to overflowing, though he doesn’t notice. You step in and place your hand over his, closing the faucet. Unaddressed tension remains as you stare down at his hand, yet you refuse to let it show, repelled by the idea of taking advantage of his vulnerability. You don’t want to engage in anything like your stay at the hotel again until you sorted out your mind and its jumble of thoughts, nor do you wish to romanticize his self-hatred by fulfilling your wants. “...I, uh, I get it now. And I promise I’ll stop flirtin' now that I know it.”

The monster pulls his hand away and takes the pot with both, emptying the soapy water down the drain. He does it little by little, preventing a flood in the sink. “Did Jerry say something about this?” you ask, taking the pot when he gives it to you. You hang the current towel and take a dryer, cleaner one from the rack. Then, you continue, finishing with the job. “He looked at you weird.”

He chuckles and meets with your eyes. “Maybe ‘cause I was all over you for a second there?”

You glare at him, lips doing the opposite by tugging into a grin, one you try to fight back. “Cut the sarcasm.” You jab his waist, smile growing. “You know what I mean."

“Let him think what he wants to think. I knew you before I knew him, and you guys haven’t been together for years. You’re your own person, and so’s him. If he doesn’t want to keep being friends, then that’s fine with me.”

You glance over to the time on the wall clock, seeing it’s already seven. With the frequent rain, the monster was forced to store his motorcycle away while it cleared out some more, and -- to make up for it -- his brother was now the one to either lend him his car, or take him where he needed to be. In short, letting him go back home would mean calling Papyrus two hours right before his sleep schedule. Either that, or it was sending Sans all alone off to the nearest bus stop.

You settle on neither, saying, "Want to stay over? It's late, and I've got a guest bedroom you can use."

He snickers and replies with, "Worried 'bout me?" When he notices, his grin falls, and he quickly makes up for it by adding, "Sorry. Doing that's pretty much a reflex now."

You smile and swat his shoulder, keeping your hand there. "...I don't really mind you flirting that way. I like it better than when you're straight-up obvious about it."

"Like the Mx. Serif thing?"

"Exactly." You shift on your feet, remembering one of his older comments. "That, and the ones you used to make about my... appearance."

"So you want me to be less invasive," he says, nodding. "Got it." He tries not to look down, a slight tense present in his grin. "I apologize if I ever made ya uncomfortable. I'm surprised you didn't just whack me over the head back then. Feels like I deserved it sometimes."

"Violence is not the answer." You pause, face regaining seriousness. "...Unless you cross borders you shouldn't be crossing."

"Kinda like what happened on the couch today?"

"No." You feel your throat ache the longer you talk with him, still too awkward to relax around him. "...I wanted it back then."

Sans washes his hands and gives you space to do the same. Then, he brings his sleeves down and waits until you're done washing up to accompany you to the living room. "Touch-starved?" he jokes, though you're far from taking it that way.

Seven years.

Not that you were completely, utterly desperate for a relationship, but good company was still good company. You could still use the warmth of someone else, even if it was purely platonic or familiar -- like a tight hug, or just someone else to have around the house. Wanting to depend less on Jerry's support and more on your own funds, you proposed to yourself working extra hours for as long as it was necessary. The rest of your day was either used up in chores or in spending more time with Frisk. It's only now that the monsters help you out with your child and their growth that you have additional time to do stuff like this.

"...Yes," you reply, looking away. "But that can wait."

You excuse yourself and head over to the fridge, needing some water to cure the sudden soreness to your throat; that, and you didn't really want to keep tangling yourself up in that mess.

When you've just about drank more than half a gallon, you stop and take in a deep breath, bringing yourself back to calm.

Regardless of what Frisk and Sans himself had said about living for yourself every so often, you had your set of goals already planned out. Speed-running through a relationship wasn't one, and even less considering the subject's past. You needed to know him and his intentions better before throwing yourself into it -- more than usual.

Two years of pointless arguments between you and Jerry had been enough to last you a lifetime; one of them was even more than pointless, considering you divorced by your first year. You never understood the point of submitting a child to the sight of continuous arguments if you could just find a way to stop becoming involved in what was causing that. You didn't want Frisk to feel like the root of all your problems, nor did you wish to make them feel as if they had to redeem themselves for something that wasn't even their fault to begin with. It was difficult to comprehend the thought-process behind calling out how many finances were spent on them, unless they were being a spoiled brat about it. Guilting them over the good things they had and belittling their troubles through constant comparison wasn't what you wanted, either.

But did it all have to be done by you limiting your own life and enjoyments?

Sans's advice and Frisk's words get to you, these you try to brush off for the moment being.

Fixing your situation with the monsters was more important than that.

"Ren?" a familiar voice calls out, stopping your speeding train of thought. "Is Sans staying over tonight?"

Your body freezes up, face doing the opposite.

Out of all the people you could’ve chosen to be attracted to, it had to be a person whose existence you were barely aware of until a few months ago, who you would've sworn was a contradiction to science as you knew it, and whose flirting techniques were about as low quality as a school lunch's ‘pizza’ Friday. “Yes,” you say, drinking another glass. You’ve already drank more than enough, but stress makes you want more. “It would be rude to send him home with how late it is.”

“You just want him to stay longer, don’t you?”

“That’s none of your concern, dear.”

You serve them a glass of milk, kiss their cheek, and shoo them off to bed, slumping against the fridge when they’re gone. The sound of the television being turned on follows when their footsteps grow faint, and you can hear them exchange a few words with the skeleton, though none of these you can get to understand clearly, standing so far away. “That’s their favourite movie!” is the only sentence you can decipher from them, words exclaimed. “Have fun!” They run off, footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Finally left with Sans again, you return to the living room to see him resting on the same side you’d been pinned to on the couch. You try not to remember, yet your mind proves to be cruel as it reminds you over the subtle warmth of his hands, the scent of your soap on him, and him being so close to take initiative by being the one to almost kiss you on the lips. You’d been the one to do that the first time you kissed him on the cheek back at Mettaton's hotel, though you tell yourself it was nothing special. It was mostly the heat of the moment that had caused you both to take it easy, after all. Today was an entirely different story. Compared to your approach, his was a much more complex and slow building one, waiting for you to better process his intentions and reciprocate his actions with far more sincerity compared to your stay at the hotel.

In short, you wanted to kiss him, but for real this time.

“You doin' okay?” Sans asks, seeing you arrive; he scoots further away, a simple gesture for you to sit down and join him.

“I’m... I'm okay,” you reply, nodding. “But are you really gonna watch that?” You point with your eyes at the television, your favourite movie still playing. “It’s a little lame.”

“Don’t lie.” He grins and hangs an arm behind the couch again when you settle next to him. “I’m pretty sure the kid said it’s your favourite.”

“Out of that particular genre, yes.” You stare at the screen, displaying a scene not too fitting for your situation, yet not completely out of touch either. It gives space for you to talk with him, no awkward romance scenes happening at the moment, and no loud, action-packed scenarios occurring either. Without a word, you move closer to him, letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as he brings you nearer, face resting against his chest. “Have you watched it before?”

“Today’s my first,” he says, hand lowering to your waist. He does nothing else, giving space for you to cozy up next to him the way you best deemed fit. “Feelin’ better now? You can stay for s’long as ya need.”

Aware the monster's referencing your no short of embarrassing confession from before, you shift to a straighter position, meet his irises, and glare up at him. Rather than throwing a remark back at the skeleton, you figure it’s now best to kill him with kindness. You take his cheekbone, smile, and stroke his face, smiling to better accomplish your payback.

When he looks at you -- far too earnest and warm for your liking -- you flinch and have a sudden, unconscious change of plans.

“You’re enough, you know that?” you comment, words practically slipping from your mouth. “Maybe I don’t fully understand what happened at the Underground, but... But I'd say you’ve shown you care enough to improve things you don’t like about yourself. And you've also been pretty blunt and honest with me so far, so there’s that, too.” You kiss his cheekbone, ending on a note far more wholehearted than you originally intended your payback to be. “Try to remember that next time you start criticizing yourself like that again.”

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Hello!

Before getting into some important stuff, this was meant to be yesterday's update, but I didn't have my laptop available at the time, hence the delay! I was able to update on other sites, but here I use the "keep reading" feature, which can only be accessed through a computer. (As far as my knowledge of that goes, of course -- I'm still learning how to use Tumblr!)

Now, moving to the important stuff:

A few changes will be going underway soon, such as adding the chapter navigation at the bottom of each update from the Prologue to Chapter Ten. As I mentioned in a previous author note about how late I realized I was missing something necessary for clicking on the next chapter more easily: I'm a dumbass, lol.

Also, I've made the decision of creating separate fanfics for the 4 other characters tagged in this story, along with a poll to decide which one I should work with first (as it was shown at the end of Chapter Fifteen, we've finally reached the exposition part of this fanfic, meaning other relationships will be introduced soon)! The reason why is not only to avoid coming off as misleading for those who're looking for a fanfic of that specific character only, but because rewriting this story led to it becoming much more slow burning, thus delaying the relationship development with plenty of characters. As a result, I'll modify the tags to all 16 chapters that've been published so far!

Hopefully, all those changes will be finished by next Friday. :-)

As always, take care and stay safe!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

[sunseteyes]

♪♫.ılılıll your voice ˎˊ- chapter 9

NINTH SONG — MY LOVE

kenma was awakened by the natural light, one that lit the whole room and also his entire system, urging him to come and see the beauty of the morning. due to his bed being close to the window, there was no escaping to the light’s temptation and challenge, making him accept whatever was in front of him and wake himself up. and yet before he could even think about how his day would go by, a searing pain hits him on his head, his hand immediately shooting up, hoping to at least relieve the pain, but it proved to be useless.

“you’re awake, good.”

the voice was unfamiliar, it doesn’t even sound like his parents.

wait-

“what are you doing here?” he immediately shot up from his bed, only for his headache to worsen, making him drop down as fast as he got up.

no matter how much you strained your laugh, a small chuckle left you before you sat down by the corner of his bed, still keeping proper distance as much as possible.

“ho...how? how are-why are-why are you here?” he stuttered much more than he ever did in his life. he sits up again, but slowly this time, and when he was able to, he wondered if he was dreaming--i mean, how could you have been here when you were in miyagi? with that semi guy? is he dreaming about you again?

“sorry if i had to barge in your dorm. i just wanted to know what you were talking to me about last night so i head on straight here, i hope it’s alright.” you elaborated, looking over his state to observe his expressions. “is your head aching? i brought meds for you and i also made soup.”

you suddenly stood up to jog out of the room, before he heard you adding, “though i had to ransack your kitchen and buy a couple more ingredients by the market before i was able to make it.”

he was frozen there for seconds, even maybe a minute, contemplating about the situation in his own mind, thinking about how this is happening--more in a good way.

“what? do you want me to feed you?”

“no, no, i’m fine.” he instantly said, taking the bowl from your hands and realizing just how hot it was. and when he did, you were already sharing the same predicament, holding the bowl, along with his hands.

“i told you, maybe i should help you? here, i’ll hold the bowl while you take the spoon.”

kenma didn’t know why he didn’t argue, but it didn't mean he was not embarrassed. eventually though, he had already gotten used to the setup, mostly because he was surprised at how easing and delicious the soup was. he had never had this kind of soup, but he was too shy to ask for seconds anyway. there’s no way he could just make a request like that to someone like you when you already did it for his sake beforehand.

“i cooked a whole pot for you, do you want me to bring you some more?” you suddenly inquired, “or… is my cooking bad? does it taste bad? i’m sorry i didn’t get to taste it-”

“it’s delicious.” he immediately interjects, cutting you off from your rambling. “i’d like another bowl, please?” he sounded hesitant then and somehow, you knew why.

you chuckled, grinning gleefully whilst rushing out to go and get him more of the soup. when you did, kenma already found his way out of the room, with you suppressing a giggle that came out of your lips when you saw how cute he was in his sleeping attire. you wondered how he even managed to change himself when he was close to being drunk based on what keiji had told you.

“uh-are you sure it’s alright if you stay here? i mean-what would people say? you know, since you’re basically a famous person now. well, not that i’m saying you’re not famous before.”

“don’t worry about what other people say, ken. and besides, it’s not like we’re in a relationship-” you stopped yourself, taking in his reaction just in time for you to add, “actually, that’s what i’ve been meaning to talk to you about that today.”

“talk? about what? is there something wrong?”

you brought down the bowl on the table and sat on one of the seats, urging him to do the same in front of you.

“you should eat while i talk. it’s a very long story that i just thought i should say to you.” you say, your mind racing thoughts all around immediately at what you were doing.

and then, you began to tell everything about how you came to be where you are right at that very moment.

“babe? eita?” you brought your phone away from your ear, feeling your chest tighten every second that passes by. you stared at his name over and over, trying to believe that he will call you back,

but nothing came, of course.

your heart sank then, dropping your hands to the side as your eyes met keiji, then your eyes turned blurry once again as tears started to form on them.

keiji was quick to move, stepping forward as he caught onto one of your tears with his thumb “what? what happened? y/n-”

“i’m ready, keiji. let’s go.” you pulled away from him, grabbing onto your luggage and walked off, not even waiting for him to follow you because he knew he would do it anyway.

“your bus ticket, please.”

absent-mindedly, you gave your ticket and whip you gaze back to the window and the view outside, trying to calm yourself down.

“you can cry if you want to, it’s safe to cry here.” you could hear keiji mutter next to you, and just then, the hot tears came back once again. this time, you couldn’t stop them from coming.

that day, you fought with your boyfriend, but he didn’t break up with you. however, since then, you never talked to each other. by the time you did and eventually got reunited, eita tried to get back to you by doing the same thing over and over again.

the difference is, you already knew what was coming before things had gotten worse.

“wait,” a hand grabs your arm, forcing you to halt from your steps and meet semi’s eyes.

“what? is there something wrong, semi?”

you didn’t like how his eyebrows twitched, because by then, you knew you still had an effect on him. you saw the change of emotion in his irides, but he didn’t question you about it anymore. for you, he was your eita back then, and now, he was just semi.

so semi does the only thing he knew he could do; he leans in close to you, holding you in place.

you turned your face away just in time, making his lips land on your cheeks instead, and you even have to close your eyes to restrain the memories that flooded your mind at that moment.

semi was your first love, and he will always be, no matter what happens.

sighing, you turn to face him again. now that he had pulled away, you could see the genuine tangled emotions in his expression, struggling to commit to one feeling, just like when he was with you before.

“the moment you ended the call when i was going to tokyo, it’s the time when our relationship ended, semi. you know that. we’ve been fighting about it for over a week, i knew you were tired of it.” you say, glancing down at the ground, barely able to look at semi on the eye. “we knew it was the end for us.”

“it’s not. we can go back together.” he leans in to you again, whispering the words, like when he was trying to ease your anger back then, when you two were still together. “i still love you, we can still fulfill our dreams-”

“our dreams?” you cut him off, looking back at him with a scoff. “-this is my dream. what we had was your dream. your dream was to make your voice heard. you used my voice for your dream, semi. i chose this path because i thought this is the only thing i could give you. you made me think like that all the years we had been together.”

“then that means… the rumors-”

“they’re not true, technically.” you answer, pulling a smile from your lips. “why? are you affected by it?”

he looks away, pursing his lips by then. “not really-not much. i mean-no, why should i be? it’s not like we’re-you know… together.”

this time, it was your turn to fidget, biting your lip at one point before finally speaking up. “i’ve been thinking… are you interested in me, ken?”

“huh-what? did akaashi-uhm…”

“if you are,” you paused, kind of hesitant, “-do you want to try this out?”

kenma questions again, “try what?”

“us,” you answered, “try us—if we’re going to work out.”

TRIVIA:

i somehow wanna make a prequel for semi and y/n tbh

i personally think semi must have loved y/n either way (lmao what are u doing u’re the writer)

INTERMISSIONS:

well taglists are still open for the last and final chapter! feel free to send an ask only to @ftkenma :))

so this will be the second to the last chapter and yep sorry no smau-ish today, also, i’m sorry that i only updated now. stuff happened and it’s a good thing i finished this today.

| MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS ↩︎ | ↪︎ NEXT |

[unmanageable-day]

Come to me

PART 26.5 - next

masterlist / previous chapter: 26

Summary. After what happened in a relationship in the past, you found it difficult to trust someone with the gentleman image. ‘Gentleman’ seems like merely a concept and it was probably impossible for someone to be a genuine one. Now that you’re stuck with the number one gentleman at campus for a group project, how would you cope with the one and only Joshua Hong?

Genre. College!au, non-idol!au / friends to lover

Pairing. Joshua x y/n x S.Coups

wc / warning. 1k / prolly grammatical error, and nothing more, i guess? (does mentioning shua’s nickname of the holy jisoos count?? if anyone feels disturbed about it, please do let me know!)

TAGLIST.  @samemagicpoint @unravellyn @nonuuu @seventeeneration @skylions-den @wooziverse @infinitemoods @haoraecane @sunflowergyeomie @flower0930 @riashushu​ — [ send ask or dm if you’re interested to be added in the list! 🖤 ]

a/n: i’ve decided to cut this written part into two chapters. hope you still enjoy it, any comments are warmly welcomed! i have this rough draft ready looong time before those smau parts but it took me a while to rewrite it, so it is kinda tricky to connect all the dots hehe

You set the living room as if you were going on a picnic. Instead of a rug or carpet, you used a yoga mat covered with an old scarf—resulting in Joshua quietly laughed at this sudden creativity. The pizza box was wide opened between you and him. Yet what you two had in your hands were two scoops of ice cream. Joshua was the one suggesting to have this salty-sweet-salty-sweet eating pattern.

"Okay. Let's start with... why does everyone call you a gentleman? Oh, I think I've also heard about the holy Jisoos," you trailed off, stirring the ice cream on your cup.

Joshua chuckled. "I honestly have no idea. Some kids made that up. I mean, I do consider myself as a gentle person but I won't even call myself a gentleman."

You nodded slowly, a spoonful of ice cream went into your mouth.

"And, please, stop with the holy Jisoos. If I find out who started that, I think I will commit a murder," he said, rolling his eyes in annoyance. No one really had ever said this particular nickname right into his face, but still, it was the one he most despises of.

Unconsciously you watched his expression quite eagerly. It was probably the first rime you caught him making that face. Even he still kept his smile intact and never showed it if he was exhausted during overtime—unlike you who looked like a mess when it was past 9 PM in the office. And it was fascinating to hear him wanting to murder someone. Basically the word murder and his by-default smiley face simply didn't match.

He made eye contact and you were flustered. "Come on, ask me more questions," said him, looking as eager as you.

"Are you always this nice to people? I mean, not even a bad intention once a while?" That was the best filtered words you can arrange. The truth is, you wanted to ask 'are you sure you're not being fake with all that kindness?' but now that you think about it, it sounds very rude.

"I do plot some things. Well, not to random people, but to my friends." He shrugged, but his voice started to sound more excited. After the last bite of his ice cream, he took a slice of pizza. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

Your eyes got widened at that question. How can you not? You squinted your eyes, looking guilty. "You mean how I made you come late to your first class?"

"What? That was you?"

"... yeah?"

He paused. Tilting his head, he looked at you with puzzled expression. He surely remembered his first day of uni and the accident of coming late and getting scolded by one of the most legendary lecturer in campus because of somebody. Apparently he was too shocked to remember who it was.

“I know, I ran away when you went in to Prof. Lee’s class,” you shyly confessed, covering your face with your hands. “And our second meeting was not great either,” you mumbled.

“Was it coffee accident?”

You nodded.

He smiled wide to himself. Looking at you fondly, he continued, “I thought that was our first meeting. But knowing the truth of our first meeting, it was quite fascinating.”

“I know it’s probably too late, but I’m sorry about getting scolded by Prof. Lee and for ruining your white shirt.” You bowed down.

Still smiling, Joshua shook his head, suggesting to never mind it. “Anyway, about that white shirt..” A mischievous grin grew wider. "That’s not my shirt. It's Jeonghan's. Just a few days before my first day going to school, he dropped some ragu sauce on my shirt he wore. I was already plotting something, that was why I wore his clothes, but you unexpectedly did it for me. So..." He made a face, which strangely reminded you of Johnny’s ‘not my problem’ face.

"Wait, what?" You squinted in disbelief. "But you looked mad though?"

"I did?" The bambi eyes widened at your accusation. "Rather than mad, I think I was more shocked. I mean who wouldn't, right?"

Eventually, you two laughed it off. You were glad you cleared at least one unsettled matter with this guy.

"I'll confess one more thing. You can judge me as you please," he spoke rather excitedly and you just nodded. "You know, I often got anonymous love letters in my locker."

"People are still doing that like in Japanese comic?" you commented, holding your laugh.

"I know right. But that's not the point. Those letters, I never read them. Either I just leave it in my locker, or I just throw them away. Or sometimes Seokmin would read it for me, and still they ended up in the trash."

A dramatic gasp left your lips. "Oh my gosh, those poor girls.. Maybe they're just shy, you know? You should give them a chance." Instantly you realized what you said just changed the mood.

“Why don’t you give me a chance?” he calmly retorted.

You chewed your lips, unable to answer him right away.

"Y/N, I'm shy too, but since we were assigned for group project, I encourage myself to talk to you instead of sending anonymous letter." He tried to break the ice.

"Like you, Y/N, they only see me as someone with that too good to be true image. If they really mean it, why not approach me personally? You see, I had bad relationships too. There are many people who only like the way I look, the way I behave. How I don't really voice out, how I never show them if I'm angry, how I always say "it's okay" when things start going bad and "I'm sorry" even when the fault is not mine. They thought I'm 24/7 an angel who is never upset."

A small part of your heart just melted to finally see another side of Joshua Hong. You simply could feel the honesty. It was nice to see the ‘humane’ side of him, to see his emotion as he shared a bit about himself. Now you felt bad for having bad prejudice about him.

"There is one thing I’ve been wondering. Why me?" you asked carefully after observing him catching his breath.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "It's just interesting to see you. It looks like there are so many sides of you."

You looked at him, confused.

“When you're with me, do you notice you're very quiet? But when you're with Johnny, you turn into someone else and you express yourself easily. When you're with Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung, you change again. You play along with them, you get their jokes, overall it's like you're a child again playing with your friends. Then Wonwoo, you used to have that sheepish smile when you talk to him. And when you're with Seungcheol...” Joshua paused, clearing his throat and looked away. “It's clear how you're comfortable with him, you talk freely with him, as if he's an old friend. And the way you smile at him.. how could I not envy him?”

You attentively listened to him while trying to digest everything. You were quite flustered that he paid that much attention to you.

"So I thought, there must be something wrong with me. I was insecure of myself. 'What is it that Seungcheol does better than me?', 'Why the quiet Wonwoo can be close with you while I can't?', 'Am I good enough to be with you?', 'Am I a trust worthy person to you?'. I was always doubting myself whenever I tried to make a move. Especially since Seungcheol butts in."

The pizza was long forgotten as you were drowning in his thoughts.

"If there is one thing I'm lacking, it's confidence. I don't want people to know about that. Also, I'm not really into telling others how I feel, not even to Jeonghan. I tend to bottle up everything instead of expressing my feelings. Then I would overthink, I would be overly sensitive about things. In the end, I wouldn't actually do anything about it. I'm a coward, Y/N." His hands were fiddling with the spoon on his empty cup.

"Y/N, do you like Seungcheol?" he asked suddenly, making you flinched in your seat.

"Honestly it's hard to not to.." you said guiltily. It was such a mystery to you too why you felt guilty. It wasn’t like you and Joshua were something in the first place.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Finding your soulmate an in unexpected place- Lukadrien June Day 11

I finished it, I didn’t think I would but I suddenly thought of a Host AU from Stephaine Meyer and deiced to try and fit it in here. I move tomorrow so between working, I was trying to finish this. I hope you like it. Heads up, there is a warning as there’s mention of violence in trying to kill, an unnamed person dying and I guess the general violent stuff The Host had. Soulmate

Adrien held tight to the control he had on his body. He didn’t need Felix pulling another Kim incident, not with Lila glaring at him and muttering comments he could hear.

“Either shut up and serve us or get lost.” Luka snapped, clearly getting annoyed. “Not that you ever lift a finger unless ordered or ever do a good job anyway.”

She let out a huff and dropped the serving spoon, storming off. The other people in the line just let out a groan, a few mentioning how Fu was gonna throw her to other sections for her to work.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Adrien said, taking a plate from Luka, since he insisted on holding them both.

Using his free hand to serve themselves, Luka pointed out, “Did you want Felix to say something? I could tell you were holding hard to keep him from taking over.”

“Would have still been hilarious if how he went off on Kim was any indication.” Someone behind him said.

While it did prove to the rest of the group that Felix was still in his body, the constant grapple the two had when Felix decided to insult Kim back, when he blocked Adrien and started yelling at him being a parasite had been embarrassing overall. With Felix throwing scathing comments and Adrien apologizing a second later or begging Felix to stop, it wasn’t something he wanted to relive.

Hey, the asshole deserved it! Felix yelled in his head, his sudden volume causing Adrien to flinch. And she deserves a few scathing remarks, see how she likes it.

“Please stop.” Adrien muttered.

“Being loud again?” Luka asked, leading them to a free seat by Marc and Nathanial.

“And rude.”

It’s not rude if it’s true. But fine, I’ll behave.

Adrien doubted it would last long but kept his mouth shut. Marc and Nath had their noses in their respective books, being writer and artist respectively. Their jobs might have disappeared once the Souls landed on their planet but with Adrien helping with supply runs because of him being a Soul, they were able to restock on their items and get back into it. Rarely were the couple seen without a note book and pencil.

“Oh, Adrien, I had a question.” Marc asked, realising the two were there halfway through their meal.

“I can’t tell you the rest of the story again.” Adrien said, assuming what Marc would ask. Along with helping with supply runs, he was also teaching those interested about the different plants since the Souls had gone to – Invaded – at least 15 other planets and Adrien had been to most of them. Marc had gotten curious and bugged Adrien to finish one of his stories, which later upset some of the others. Felix said it was like when you watch ahead of a show, you’re watching with someone. Adrien didn’t get it, but he also didn’t want to upset anyone again.

“No, not that. Tempting, but not that. I was wondering if Souls believe in the idea of soulmates?”

“Soulmates? Are they a species?”

“More important,” Luka interrupted, “why were you thinking of that?”

“Well, I was trying to think of things I did before you know, things happened, with the writing community. Challenges I guess to get me back into it. One of them was listing all the troupes you like by ranking and I remembered that soulmates was one of my tops. I’m sure you can understand why I don’t fully love the idea, but it made me think. Do you guys have soulmates?”

Adrien looked at Luka, still not fully getting it.

“Basically, soulmates are people who are your perfect match. When people say they’re in love, they say they’ve found their perfect match, the one person they can’t live without.”

“So a lifemate? The Bears had that, and the Flowers.”

“Yes, basically that. Do Souls have mates?” Marc asked.

Adrien shrugged. “Not really. We only really ever encountered it with the Bears and Flowers. The practise was kept. Though, there have been times where two Souls find each other and have this instant connection, but it’s so rare. At most it’s like here, they find someone and stay with them. it’s not a decision we take lightly.”

“So no breakups. There’ve been times where it’s been pointed out that just because 2 people are soulmates, doesn’t mean they’re right for each other.”

“No, no break ups.”

“Huh, maybe soulmates aren’t bad after all.” Marc said.

“Don’t let Lila and her band of followers hear you say that. Come on, we have to help with laundry.” Nath reminded, getting up. “We’ll see you two later.”

With the two gone, Adrien focused on his food, knowing he’d need the energy for supply check he and Luka had to do after this.

“I have a question.” Luka asked, after draining his cup. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but say a Bear has a mate and then it has a Soul placed into it. What happens to its mate? The Bear’s mate?”

“It has the Soul’s mate placed into it. The idea of lifemates is something we Souls love, something we appreciate. If they have a mate, we use their memories to make sure they stay together.”

“So love is important then?”

Adrien nodded, “It is.”

Luka smiled. “Good. It’s nice to know no matter what, they keep mates together.”

Of course he likes it. Felix said. When he felt Adrien’s confusion, he continued. Well, he’d love nothing more than to be your soulmate. I mean it’s so obvious he likes you.

Adrien choaked on whatever he had in his mouth, some vegetable from the soup. Luka, like Adrien? No way.

“Are you ok? Was it Felix?”

Why am I always the first to be blamed?

Adrien would have replied with this actually being his fault but he was too busy trying to breath. Once he fully swallowed what was in his mouth, he could finally think. Luka did not like Adrien like a soulmate did. He just didn’t. besides, Adrien didn’t like him like that.

“Here. Are you ok? What happened?” Luka asked, handing him a cup of water.

“I’m fine. Um, I forgot Max wanted to see me. I’ll see you in the supply room, ok?”

Souls didn’t lie, or at the very least Adrien didn’t, but he guessed his sudden change of topic made it easy for Luka to not notice. He darted out of the dinning room. The colony was massive, filled with tunnels, some of which the group still didn’t know about. Without needing a babysitter every minute, Adrien had taken it upon himself to go exploring some of them. there was one just off the tunnel that led to the waterfall that Adrien liked. The water wafting from that nearby fall made the area cool and maybe it was the Soul part of him that liked chilled areas. He flopped onto the floor, trying to wrap his head around what Felix had said. Luka liked him?

Yeah. I mean, he was on everyone else’s side of not liking you, and then he changed his mind.

“So did a lot of other people!”

Yes, but remember, he was there to try and kill you with the others.

Not a memory Adrien enjoyed. It had been his first night, ‘locked’ in the supply room with Bridgette taking guard. He remembered that Bridgette, despite hitting him within seconds of seeing each other, refused to let anyone else guard him. Luka and one other person tried overpowering her, while Kim slipped past to try and strangle him. Felix always called Bridgette strong and she showed it by actually kicking all 3 attackers butts and leaving Adrien more scared of humans. Fu eventually released Adrien from his jail to get used to life and Luka had been one of the few people who actually looked when Adrien was in the room. He didn’t complain if they ever had to work together and when Xavier-Yves tries attacking him when Bridgette wasn’t around, Luka had been the one to stop him. He apologized and before Adrien knew it, he was usually around helping him. He’d gone from this person he’d been scared of to a person he could depend on. Luka had started seeing past just the Soul and saw Adrien.

But there was no way he liked Adrien.

Yes, Felix said, sounding tired, he does. You see how much he looks out for you and how he never treats you different since he apologized. Plus, let’s be honest, he always knows what you’re thinking and is always looking out for you and he’s not living in your head.

“Bridgette and Marinette look out for me. They like me too. Bridgette is who I like.”

Adrien, I don’t think you do. Marinette might have always liked you, but Bridgette didn’t. look, I love her to death, but she was willing to hurt you before she knew I was in here too. I don’t think I’ll ever find someone again, so I like her a lot, so much so I would do anything to keep her safe. No Soul has ever had to deal with what we’re dealing with right? So they wouldn’t know the affects. I think the reason they pair mates with mated Souls is because of residual feelings. They associate those feelings with the person in front of them, so adding those residual feelings with your actual ones, you’re even more in love. When you first saw memories of her, what did you think?

What did he think? He…thought he was in love. But it wasn’t immediate.

It grew when we found them again and my feelings came back tenfold. Adrien, you think you like Bridgette but I don’t think you do. You just associate her with the feelings and latched onto mine when we saw her again. I mean, come on, you feel awkward around her now that she’s so nice to you. do I think she likes you, yes, I do, but not like that and not like Luka feels. I think she thinks she does but I wouldn’t be surprised if you did ask her and she couldn’t give you an answer.

Was Felix, right? Were his feelings for Bridgette residual, not even real? Bridgette hadn’t been the nicest and Adrien still swore by liking her but Luka had changed and he felt more comfortable with him.

Adrien mulled over it for what felt like forever. He waved off Luka’s question if he was ok, knowing he wasn’t fooling him. Marinette, Bridgette’s younger cousin, asked as well but took his word when he said he was ok. He should have known Luka would have gotten tired of Adrien being weird eventually. Luka had shoved him a familiar bandana and waited until his vision was blocked before dragging him somewhere. Once he felt the breeze across his face, he knew he was outside.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked, trying not to stumble over the rocky plane.

“You’ll see. There’s a rock you need to climb here.”

If he kills us, he’d be the greatest actor ever.

Adrien decided to not respond.

“Ok. Now back up with me, there’s a rock you can sit on.” Once Adrien was seated, he felt Luka sit next to him as well. “Now take your blindfold off.”

Adrien knew he was outside, but it seemed like he was at the top of the mountain their home was in. the setting sun was casting pinks and purples on the land below.

“Wow.” He said, taking the view in.”

“I thought you might like it.” Luka said, smiling down at him when Adrien looked over. “You’ve been acting so weird I thought you were starting to get stir crazy.”

“Sorry.”

“I thought we agreed you’d stop apologizing so much. Besides, I can’t blame you.” Luka said, closing his eyes and letting his head drop back, taking in the wanning sun. “I miss going out too.” A content smile grew on his face.

‘I like his smile.’

Oh. Oh.

Oh indeed. Now do you see what I mean?

Adrien did. He was starting to understand that if something as simple as Luka’s smile made him happy, then he had feelings for him that were deeper than the ones he had for Bridgette. When it had started Adrien couldn’t pinpoint, but this was more. Adrien wouldn’t sure if he’d consider Luka his soulmate though.

He is, trust me.

“Are you ok?” Luka asked, noticing Adrien was staring at him.

This time Adrien was telling the truth. “I’m fine.”

                                              __________________

Adrien looked over at Bridgette who was stretched out on one of the beds, flipping through the channels. Luka was in the shower, leaving the two alone. Since realising how he felt about Luka, Adrien wanted to test something. Bridgette was obviously jealous when it came to Luka and Adrien, which made him think Bridgette felt the same, but since learning about the residual feelings, Adrien was starting to think Bridgette just thought Luka was interested in Felix. Now he had the chance to find out.

“Bridgette?”

“Yeah?” she asked, not looking away from the TV. Luka would have given him his full attention. He was starting to see the flaws.

“I need to ask you something.”

She finally looked over. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you love me?” he saw that he threw her. “And when I say me, I don’t mean my looks, because I know you love Felix. I meant me. Adrien. If I had a different body and you knew me, would you say you love me?”

“Um, well…” she sat up and looked at him. “I do care about you.”

“I know you do, but do you love me?”

He watched her open her mouth, struggling to say something. He also felt Felix utterly relieved.

“It’s ok. Trust me, I’m not mad. And you can stop being jealous of Luka, Felix is pretty sure he doesn’t like him. Can you tell Luka to meet me outside?” Adrien said, leaving Bridgette to get what he was trying to say.

He found a bench close to their room but as far away from the front desk as possible and not near any light that would reflect off his eyes but not Luka’s.

Are you gonna do it? Tell him?”

“Maybe. I also don’t know why you were worried. You know she loves you.”

Yeah, but I’m essentially dead. I could have been wrong on her end. Even been wrong when it comes to her before. But not like you weren’t relieved too. It makes how you feel pretty clear huh?

It did. Knowing the feelings weren’t returned made it clear to Adrien who he really had feelings for.

“Hey, what’s up?” Luka had his sweatshirt’s hood up, even with the new fake mark they made to make other Souls think he wasn’t a normal human. His sunglasses were hanging from the front.

Adrien pointed at the sky. He’d chosen their stopping point for a reason. It was the farthest from the city lights. “I thought I could repay you for the sunset.”

“Well, can’t argue with that.” Luka dropped down on the seat next to him, looking up at the stars. “I told you about how Jules and I used to live on a boat right? Mom would show us the constellations. The big and little dipper where the ones I could always spot. That’s what sailors use to find their way around the seas.”

“I’ve seen so many constellations. But I like the Earth ones more. The stories behind them say more.”

“Yeah, we can thank the Greeks and Romans for that.”

Adrien glanced over at Luka before saying, “I asked Bridgette if she loved me. She doesn’t, just Felix.”

“Are, you ok?” he asked slowly.”

“I am. I realised a while ago I don’t actually love her. I care for her, like I do Marinette, but not love. Those were Felix’s feelings that I held on to. It makes sense, I didn’t know her yet I thought I was in love with her. I just wanted to make sure she didn’t feel the same.”

“Oh. Well, good. I mean,” Luka seemed to be at a loss for words.

“It’s ok, really.” Adrien said, silencing Luka. he could tell him now. But what if Felix was wrong? What if he only liked Felix’s face but not the Soul inside?

Easy Adrien, you don’t have to say it now. Just, wait until it feels right.

Felix was right, he could wait.

Except he couldn’t. when they got back to the tunnels, they found out someone was dead. Because Adrien’s Seeker. It’d been a whirlwind after that, having to talk to the abrasive woman who started the bond he and Felix had, the funeral, teaching Max how to remove Souls without killing anyone, sending the Seeker away and finally the realization of what he had to do.

No, NO. you can’t do this! This is your life too. You can’t just leave. What about Luka?

Luka. Luka would understand.

Oh yeah, tell him then. Tell him what you plan on doing and tell him how you feel. He won’t pat you on the back and wish you well, and neither would Bridgette, no matter how she feels.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Adrien looked up and saw Luka at the entrance of the cooler tunnel he like. They’d gotten back from sneaking the Seeker’s Soul to a transportation facility and he’d darted off the minute they got back to go over what he’d realised.

“Huh?”

“You like cooler places, so I thought you’d be near the waterfall. How are you feeling?”

Adrien wanted to say fine, but instead he got up and walked up to Luka. he looked down at him with his blue eyes, confused but not saying anything. Luka knew him, inside and out.

Tell him or I swear, I’ll take over and do it myself.

“I like you. the way Bridgette likes Felix. I have for a while and I wanted to tell you, but I got scared. I’ve never told this to anyone, I thought I never would.”

“Adrien.” Luka said softly. He didn’t look nervous or uncomfortable. That content smile was growing on his lips.

“Felix teased me and said you wanted to be my soulmate but I didn’t believe him.”

Then Luka’s brow furrowed and then he started to look nervous. And angry.

“Adrien. Tell me the truth. You showed Max how to remove a Soul. Did you do it so he’d do it to you?”

Adrien opened his mouth to lie, but Luka always saw through his lies. “How?”

“You know about the heart song thing. that’s how I gauge people’s emotions. Telling me you feel this way should be happy, but you sound miserable.”

“How do you know it’s not because I think you like Felix?” why was he trying to push this away? He knew Luka had figured him out.

“I’m not interested in Felix; I couldn’t be if I tried!”

Hey!

“So you have his face, big deal. I didn’t fall for you because of how you look. I fell for you because of the kind of person you are. Your kind and caring, even to those who don’t deserve it. You have so much love to give and every time you think you don’t matter; it kills me inside. So I know why you’re doing this and I’m begging you, please don’t.”

“But Felix…”

“What about him? You matter just as much! If you do this, you’d be hurting so many more people. You can’t do this. Adrien please.”

There were tears, a lot of them and Luka had dragged Fu into it, begging for a tribunal to make the decision, which he’d agreed to. Before he knew it, he was in Luka and Juleka’s room, empty for Juleka no doubt being with Rose.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Was Luka’s excuse.

Luka was still pacing, steaming while Adrien sat on his mattress. He’d stayed with Luka for a while before Bridgette got Marinette to ask him to stay with them, so he was familiar with the space.

“Please sit down.” Adrien asked.

Luka sighed before dropping down next to Adrien. “You can’t ask me to accept this. I thought you were in love with Bridgette and to hear you weren’t, I finally thought, this is it. I can tell him. But instead you tell me you’re giving Felix his body back?”

“I told you I love you too.”

“That’s not funny. When you said that thing about soulmates and didn’t say a word about how thought it was true, that hurt. Adrien, you might not believe it, but I do.”

Adrien felt like crying again. Though he was getting close with his eyes filling up. “This hurts.”

“Then don’t do it.” Luka said, pulling Adrien’s head closer to rest their foreheads together. “Please don’t.”

Adrien leaned in closer and kissed him. He’d only ever kissed Bridgette, who did it to see if Felix was actually still there and help pull him out after Adrien blocked him. He liked this better, it was soft and slow and it meant something.

It kept it on his mind when Luka eventually fell asleep and didn’t wake when Adrien pulled from his arms. He pressed a kiss onto Luka’s cheek. “I believe Felix now. You are my soulmate.”

Adrien, please don’t do this. I mean, I don’t love Luka kissing my body but he loves you and that’s all that matters.

“You’d get Bridgette and Marinette back. Luka will move on.”

He’d reached Max’s office and saw everything set up.

“Thank you for everything.”

You’re my brother and I don’t want you to do this.

“Ready?” Max asked, putting his supplies next to the cot.

“I’m ready.”

                                         _________________

“Adrien, wake up. Come on, I have to yell at you for disappearing.”

“Wow, yelling at your soulmate. Nice.”

“You want to yell at him too.”

“Of course I do. Clearly yelling in his head doesn’t work.”

“Shh, I think he’s moving.”

He knew those voices. Luka, Marinette, Felix?

Adrien forced his eyes – eyes? – open and stared up at the rocky celling. He also saw Luka, Marinette, Bridgette, Max and Felix looking down at him.

“Didn’t think you could get rid of us that easily, did you?” Felix asked. It was strange to see the face he’d been wearing staring back at him without the use of a mirror.

“Here.” Marinette held a mirror up to him. A new face stared back at him.

“I look like Felix.” His voice was slightly higher than he was used to. His eyes were green and his hair more golden than Felix’s lighter blonde. The face shape was different too but he still looked like Felix.

“That’s what I thought when we saw you.” Marinette said, sounding proud of herself.

Adrien pushed himself up. He didn’t feel weak but his body felt different. He felt slimmer but he could still feel muscle. “How?”

“Turns out Luka isn’t the only one who can tell what you’re thinking.” Felix said, looking at Bridgette.

“I got here just after Max finished you. he was going to tell us anyway. Felix found me and Luka and we went to go look for a body. Well, me, Felix and Marinette. Luka stayed with you.”

“I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t care what you looked like so I stayed, helped Max put you back after we were sure this Host didn’t have a human still inside. You look pretty in your Soul form.”

The same content smile, the one Adrien realised was one that only he saw, was flashed at him.

“You wanted me to stay?”

“How many times do I have to say it? Adrien, I love you and that’s not going to change.”

Adrien wasn’t impulsive. He thought things through and was sort of a diplomate in matters. But this was different. He took Luka’s face in his hands and kissed him, sighing happily at the same feeling being there the last time he kissed him.

“Don’t run off again.” Luka said before kissing him again before Felix yelled at them to stop.

He wouldn’t, not after he found his soulmate.

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Playing With Fire - Girls Night Out

A/N: So this is my first crack at Chicago fire fanfiction, so don't judge too hard, alright? This will unfold from the beginning of season three, so if you haven't watched it yet, but plan to; SPOILER ALERT! I tried to follow along with the storyline of the show, but some things have been changed. Shout out to my superawesome beta @thorne93, you rock! 

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Beth (OFC) 

Warnings: Language probably. Drinking

Wordcount: 2245

Beth stood in front of her TV, coffee in hand as she watched the morning news in disbelief. A helicopter had crashed and landed on top of a building, the reporter on scene kept talking as the camera panned out and captured the unbelievable scene that unfolded. 

“Witnesses say that there are still people trapped inside the helicopter, but luckily the Chicago fire department is on the scene and working tirelessly to get everyone out safe.” 

She couldn't really make out any faces or the names on the uniforms, but the big white ‘81’ on one of the trucks was easy enough to see, and her heart sank in her chest. Everyone she knew and loved in Chicago was on that scene.

With eyes glued to the TV she paced back and forth in her apartment, her heart beating a million miles an hour. “They have to be alright,” she said to herself, feeling more helpless than she had ever done before. 

She didn't really register what she was doing when she jumped in her car and headed for the fire house. There wasn't really anything she could do for any of them right now, but she was sure as hell gonna make sure they returned to a hot meal. The plan was to make some lasagnas that they could easily heat up and then get out of there before they returned, but it didn't really work out like that. 

One by one they poured into the kitchen, their somber faces revealing the impact of the day they had had.

“Beth? What are you doing here?” Gabby asked, surprised and happy to see her friend. 

“I saw you all on the news and figured you’d be hungry when you got back,” she explained. 

“You weren't wrong, kid,” Herrmann said with appreciation in his voice. 

“You’re the best,” Otis chimed in.

“The best,” Cruz repeated, backing up his best friend. 

Beth gave Gabby a tight hug. “I'm glad you’re okay,” she said. Over Gabby’s shoulder, she locked eyes with Kelly and gave him a small smile, but he just averted his eyes and walked away. “What's his deal?” 

“Who?” Gabby wondered, turning around just in time to see Kelly disappear down the hall. “Oh. Brittany showed up to the scene today, all hysterical and shit because he wasn't answering her calls and texts,” she explained. 

“Wow. That's… a lot.” 

“Yeah,” Gabby agreed. 

“Alright,” Beth said a little louder. “I'm gonna get out of your hair,” she announced as she started backing out of the room. 

“You’re not gonna eat with us?” Mills asked. 

“Nah. I have a bar to open. Since my bosses are all busy saving the day and shit,” she said with a chuckle. 

Goodbyes were mumbled through mouthfuls of food as Beth walked away. She had no intentions of looking for Kelly, but she saw him sitting in his office and her feet just walked themselves over there and she knocked on the open door. “Hey,” she said softly. 

“This really isn't a good time,” he said in an annoyed tone. It wasn't Beth he was angry at, he knew that, but he couldn't help the annoyance in his voice. 

“Just wanted to say I'm glad you’re okay. I saw the news earlier and I just… I'm glad you made it back in one piece,” she offered. 

Kelly sighed. “Thanks, Beth,” he said with half a smile. 

“I'll leave you to it.” 

He followed her with her eyes as she walked away, but his mind was on his wife and the inevitable fight that would come later. Beth would never have showed up at a scene like that. 

***

“Haagen Dazs and beer.” Those were the first words out of Gabby’s mouth when Beth opened the door. “I need a girls night.” 

“You know I'm not gonna say no to that,” Beth said, taking the tub of ice cream from Gabby and letting her inside her apartment. 

Things had been kind of rough between Gabby and Matt since she had started working on truck 81 and Matt became her Lieutenant. It was a difficult situation for the both of them and definitely something that would take some time to get used to and to find their new pace. 

They both fell onto Beth's couch with deep sighs. “You first,” Beth ordered. 

“It's this whole candidate/lieutenant thing,” she said twisting open a beer. “It's not working at home and it's not working at work.” 

“I'm sorry,” Beth offered. “You'll find a way to make it work. I'm sure of it,” she tried to assure her friend. Gabby and Matt were strong, solid, so there was no doubt in her mind that they would make it through, one way or the other. 

“Thanks. Got any advice?” Gabby asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

“Dude. I literally drove the guy I like all the way to Vegas where he married a stripper,” she noted with a humorless laugh. “Not sure I'm the best to give out relationship advice.” 

“Graphic designer,” Gabby corrected, pointing her spoon at Beth. 

“Allegedly,” Beth countered, making them both chuckle. “You know what?” She suddenly said. 

“What?” 

Beth got to her feet, Gabby watching her with furrowed brows. “It's Friday night. We shouldn't be in here eating and drinking our feelings. We should be out in some club, getting our dance on. We’re young and half of us are single… let's go paint the town.” 

Gabby mulled it over for a quick second and then jumped on the bandwagon. “You go get dressed right now, and then we’ll stop by my place on our way downtown.” 

Beth hesitated for a second. “I'll just wait in the car while you get ready,” she said, not wanting to run into a certain roommate. 

“Kelly isn't home. He and Brittany had a date night planned. You’re safe.” 

Ten minutes later, Beth reappeared from the bathroom, a short black dress hugging her body, completed with teal accessories to give it a pop of color. “Yay or nay?” she asked

“Definitely yay,” Gabby replied. “Now let's hustle.” 

**

Beth stood in Gabby’s kitchen with Matt and waited for her friend to get ready. The longer she stayed there, the greater the chance she'd run into Kelly, and that was the last thing she needed right now. 

“Want a beer?” Matt asked, but Beth shook her head. “You can relax, they’re not here,” he assured. 

“I don't know what you’re talking about,” Beth lied, making Matt chuckle.

He was just about to call her out on it when they heard the front door and Beth went stiff. 

“Casey, have you seen my wallet?” Kelly called out. 

Beth was hidden from his view and she would really like to keep it that way, but then a sly grin appeared on Matt’s face and Beth noticed the little black walled on the kitchen counter. She looked up at Matt with big, pleading eyes, shaking her head vigorously. 

“Yeah, it's in here,” Matt called out, still smiling. 

“Thanks man,” Kelly said, not noticing Beth at first. “Got all the way across town before I noti…” his words trailed off there as his eyes finally found Beth. She looked amazing, so much so that he had a hard time getting words out. “You look… wow.” 

“Thank’s,” she said shyly. Luckily, Gabby was just done getting ready and walked in to interrupt the awkward scene that was unfolding. “I'll wait for you in the car,” Beth said to her friend before she turned on her heel and started walking away, praying to some higher power that she wouldn't trip on her high heels and fall on her ass. 

“Don't wait up, babe,” Gabby said before kissing Matt on the cheek. “And you might want to wipe that drool from your chin before you get back to your wife,” she said with a coy smile to Kelly. 

***

Couple of hours at a loud club was more than either Beth or Gabby could manage before they hopped in a cab and headed for Molly’s. It was great to be out and about and Beth was definitely taking advantage of her evening off, pouring ‘em down like it was her last hurrah. Gabby held back a little, but she didn't want to be a buzz kill, so she just kept an eye on her friend. It wasn't often that Beth got out and it was great to see her in such a good mood for once. 

Molly’s was packed, but Gabby found them a couple of seats while Beth went to get drinks. 

“One beer and one Mojhito, please,” she requested from Otis with a huge smile, leaning on the bar counter. “Oh, and don't make it too sweet,” she added. 

“Coming right up,” Otis said and got to work. 

“You look really nice today,” Kelly complimented from her right. 

Honestly, she hadn't even noticed him sitting there. “Thank you. Girls night,” she explained. 

“I can see that,” he noted with a smile. She was clearly inebriated, but it was nice to see her relax and enjoy herself. “Don't think I’ve ever seen you all dolled up,” he noted. 

“Well, that's because you never took me out,” she countered, no accusation in her voice. “Thank you, barkeep,” she chirped as Otis returned with her order. “Now if you gentlemen will excuse me.” 

And with that, she went to search for Gabby, who she found at a table with a bunch of people from CPD. 

It was a fun night, lots of laughter, good conversation, and alcohol. The crowd gradually thinned out and about half an hour before closing, Gabby too called it quits, leaving Beth and Halstead behind as the last two of their group. Herrmann and Otis were getting ready for closing while Kelly sat at the bar and nursed his drink still. 

“This has been a really fun evening,” Jay noted, taking a swing from his beer. 

“I agree. Nice to be on the other side of the bar for a change,” Beth said, stirring her drink with a straw. Now that things were quieting down around her, some of the sadness she had been carrying around returned. “Think I'm ready to call it, though,” she added as an afterthought. 

“Alright,” Jay dragged. “Let me call you a cab,” he offered. 

“I literally live 3 houses down from here. But thanks for the offer.” 

“Okay. Can I walk you home then?” he pushed. 

It was pretty obvious what he was getting at, and Beth wasn't completely opposed to the idea, just the circumstances. “Alright. Just know that I have a pretty strict rule. No hookups after three drinks, and I’m definitely more than three drinks in this evening.” She really hoped she didn't come across as conceited, but she was pretty sure that this was where things were heading. 

“Why? I can assure you that I'll be just as devilishly handsome in the morning,” he joked making her laugh. “My intentions are honorable, I promise. Just want to make sure you get home in one piece.” he assured. 

“Meet me outside? I'm just gonna say goodnight.” 

Jay headed outside and Beth made her way over to the bar, as far from where Kelly was sitting as was possible. “Thanks again for covering my shift tonight, Otis. I owe you one.” 

“Don't mention it,” he said, barely looking up from the paperwork he was getting ready before closing. 

“Alright,” she said a little louder. “Night fellas.” 

“Hey,” Kelly called out, jumping off his chair to catch up to her before she left. He had spent the last hour and a half watching her and Halstead get all cozy and he didn't like it one bit. “Let me walk you home?” he asked in a kind voice, not knowing that there was already someone waiting for her outside. 

“Uhm…. no thanks,” she said simply. 

“Come on. Just want to make sure you get back safe,” he told her. 

She looked into those beautiful blue eyes of his and for some reason she felt herself get angry. “No, Kelly. You promised me some space, remember?” 

“You didn't seem so concerned about your space when you came looking for me at the station the other day,” he retorted. 

“I wasn't there for you. I was there to make sure my friends were all safe and in one piece,” she defended. 

Before Kelly could say anything else, Jay stuck his head through the door. “You coming?” he asked and Beth just gave him a reassuring nod and then he was out the door again. 

“Unbelievable,” Kelly snorted. “Halstead?” 

“Go home to your wife, Lieutenant,” she spat before she turned on her heel and made her way out of there. 

“You okay?” Jay asked as they started their little walk back to her apartment, seeing the change in her mood. 

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she assured, looking up at him. “I have a question for you, Detective.” 

“Hit me.” 

“Those intentions of yours,” she started, referring to the conversation they had a few minutes ago. “Still honorable?” 

“As honorable as you want them to be.” 

Beth looked up at him with a coy smile as she slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. That way she was telling him without words what she was thinking. It was probably a bitch move on her part, using him like that, but right then she didn't care. She just wanted to forget. 

Tags: @campingmonkey​ @deansgirl215​ @thevelvetseries​

[luca-moreno]

So nonna Nico wanted a family dinner before Ethan leaves the Berlin 

aka ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

--

Luca doesn’t really know why he gets pulled in along with Marie for the odd little family dinner Zeus insisted on. Marie mutters something about an insurance policy when he asks and it doesn’t make a lot of sense to him but it means another one of Zeus’s home cooked meals and he won’t say no to that.  

Plus, Ben will be there.

There’s tension in the room and around the table where they all sit. Tension and long silences while they wait for Zeus to dish out the food. There’s a semi circle of phoenix and the commander reigns at the head of the table like a sharp eyed Queen watching over her army.

Luca happily finds himself sandwiched between Ben on one side and Ajax, glowering and clearly unhappy with life on the other. Then there’s Mason and the final phoenix, Luca can’t remember the name of but vaguely recalls from the Commander’s party in the club. Pike maybe? Lance? Some kind of ancient earth weapon he might have read about in a history book somewhere.

He nudges Ben under the table, willing his face not to get all pink when his knee brushes against him.

(Which one is he again?) Luca signs, trying to be subtle and knowing he’s failed when the man in question’s gaze falls to him.

“Ethan,” Ben says easily. “Sabre. Big brother,” he adds proudly.

Luca’s gaze shifts between them then he kinda squints. He vaguely remembers that from their scamper in the hall trying to spy. “Wait. You don’t look alike.”

“Adopted,” Ethan cuts in smoothly, making Luca jump. He detects something in the phoenix’s tone. Humor maybe? Not hostility, which was a nice change for once. He decides then that he likes Sabre with his pretty hair and a jawline that could cut glass – and whew! He really has no business being that attractive but then phoenix, so Luca figures he’ll allow it.

Plus he’s really good at making Ben laugh.

“Huh,” he shrugs. “Okay.”

Silence falls over the table again. Luca twitches, drums his fingers on the edge of the table lightly until Mason narrows his eyes at him and he quickly snatches them back. He’s hungry and bored and jittery with too many freakishly still apex predators in the room when he feels like squishy prey and he sinks back in his chair and huffs with enough force to blow his curls off his face.

He scoops up his spoon and tries to balance it on his nose and wonders again why he’s there.

“Why me?” He had asked Marie on the walk to the little room she had secured for them. She paused on the other side of the sealed door and gave him an amused glance.

“Because with you there, they’re less likely to tear each other apart and for some obscure reason I can’t even begin to understand, it’s really important to Nic.”

“I thought you said they were family. Why would they tear each other apart?”

Marie’s face falls and she looks sort of sad. “Brothers by circumstances, not choice.”

Luca shrugged. “Aren’t all families like that?”

“Not all. Besides,” Marie continues with a small hum. “I think you’re probably the only other person on this boat who isn’t scared of them.”

It’s not true, not by a long shot but it had made Luca laugh anyway. “Yeah, because they know they have to go through to you get to me. And you’re scarier than all of them.”

Marie cuffed him lightly on the shoulder as she laughs – definitely not a very commandery thing to do – which is just reason nine million and twenty six thousand why Luca adored her so much. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, Ensign.”

“One of the highest order, ma’am,” Luca tells her seriously, adjusting the strap on his guitar just as the door opens.

Another quiet moment ticks by. Luca is almost cross eyed by the time his spoon drops into his lap. “Do you ever think about how spoons are just tiny bowls with sticks attached to them?”

There’s silence and it stretches. Luca glances around the table and finds a multitude of pinched faces. Ajax looks mad, Ben looks delighted, the Commander looks like she’s praying to the gods for deliverance as she breathes deeply through her nose, Sabre’s expression are calculating but surprisingly, it’s Mason that loses it first.

He turns his face into Sabre’s side, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Sabre’s lips twitch once then twice before he joins in. Then Ben, then Marie, and then Zeus even rumbles something. Ajax is the only one who doesn’t laugh, glaring around the table like he wants to murder them all as slowly and as painfully as possible. Luca shuffles ever so slightly closer to Ben. Marie was wrong, he thinks. He was a little scared of Ajax. Just a tiny bit, but he’s pretty sure Ben could take him if it came to that.

“Va bene,” Zeus booms. “Time to eat. Mangia!”

It’s easier when the food is in front of them. Luca helps Ben scoop out something red and cheesy, adding an extra dollop to his plate with a grin. “I know what you guys are like,” he whispers then does the same to Ajax just to stay on his good side.

The food seems to make them all relax, but only just.

“This is so fucking weird,” Ajax mutters around a mouthful of pasta.

Luca looks at the twirly shapes on his plate, drenched in quite possibly the tastiest sauce he’s ever come across. Even Mar’vera, the Asari that manned the roadside kiosk near his father’s place on the wards didn’t have stuff that tasted as good as this.

“Isn’t this pasta stuff a big thing back on Earth?”

“Not the food, idiot,” Ajax says it without any heat. He shovels in another mouthful as he gestures around the table.

Luca looks around curiously at the phoenix assembled there. “Oh. Why? Didn’t you do this all the time back in… phoenix land?”

“That’s not actually a thing, Luca,” Mason says with a snort. “Neither is phoenix school.”

“He means Phoenix One,” Marie cuts in, shooting Mason a look.

“Yeah,” Luca nods and waves his fork. A glob of sauce goes flying, narrowly missing Sabre. Luca’s pretty sure he would have to sleep with one eye open if that glob had ended up on a his very expensive looking outfit and he gulps nervously. “That.” He chews. “Wait, what’s Phoenix One?”

There’s an uncomfortable glance around the table when suddenly they all find their plates very interesting. Luca looks at Marie but she offers a small little shrug and keeps eating.

“Um…”

“It’s… complicated, Luc,” Mason says, not meeting his eye.

“Is it?” Luca wants to turn to Ben but he’s not oblivious to the way the vanguard beside him hunches over so he shrugs and stabs his pasta and chews enthusiastically instead. These phoenix guys were weird.

There’s a little stilted conversation around the table that Luca and Marie try to carry, but it’s still awkward. Mason and Sabre share too many sidelong looks and small smiles and Luca almost wonders if everyone should clear out and give them the room. He tries not to stare and leans in towards Ben, whispering out the corner of his mouth.

“I guess the divorce is off?”

Ben blinks in confusion before Luca jerks his head then realization dawns. Ben nods his head happily. He leans in close and Luca has to concentrate hard on what he says instead of getting distracted by how warm he is and how he smells far too earthy for being surrounded by the vacuum of space. “Archer,” he whispers. “Other brother. Talked sense and cooked brain food.”

Luca has no idea what that means but he’s utterly enthralled regardless. “Oh,” he says, like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever heard but only because it is because Ben and he really likes the way Ben’s eyes kind of crinkle at the corners when he smiles and the way his canines seem a little sharper than the average human and the way his skin-

There’s a nudge against his boot that snaps him out of it and he looks up to see Sabre eying him with amusement.

“You were drooling,” he says, then flicks a napkin at Luca’s direction courtesy of a blue haze.

“What?” Luca squeaks as the napkin smacks him fair in the face.

“Are we going to have to give this kid the shovel talk?” Sabre asks no one in particular. Luca doesn’t know what a talking shovel is but it can’t be good and he shoots a panicked look in Marie’s direction.

“No,” she says firmly, fingers white around the stem of her wine glass. “We do not.”

“No shovel,” Ben says sternly, glaring at Sabre and Luca shoots him a grateful look.

“Um, thank… thank you?”

Ben knocks his shoulder and goes back to eating. Like almost everyone else at the table, he’s well onto his second serve.

“Marie, what’s this kid’s qualifications. Is he up to the job?”

“I’m going to be polite and pretend you didn’t just ask me that, Sinclair.”

“He’s one of Marie’s,” Mason reminds him. “So we know he’s solid.”

“Uh, hello? I’m right here,” Luca snaps irritably. What the hell? He’s about to open his mouth to complain some more but Ben leans over and he’s immediately distracted by the heat radiating off him.

“You get used to it. They do this a lot.”

Sabre looks momentarily offended by that. “Ben.”

Ben shrugs and licks the sauce off his fingers. “It’s true. Because youngest.”

“Because we’re supposed to look out for you.”

Mason chuckles and reaches for his glass. “Remember that time we took Ben to that strip club for his birthday?”

“That was definitely one of our more brilliant idea,” Sabre says mildly. Mason gives him an incredulous look.

“Okay, you and I remember that night very differently, Eth.”

Sabre’s slow smile has a distinctly predatory edge to it. “Do we?”

“Wait, you took him to a strip club?” Marie blinks and Mason bristles slightly.

“It was his birthday.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs behind her hand, like she knows something the rest of them don’t. Mason grins then.

“Oh, you’ve heard this one before, huh?”

“No, but I can only imagine with you involved.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Marie waves her hand. “Continue.”

“I’m not sure I should now,” Mason mutters and Luca isn’t sure if he should be alarmed or not that the supposed leader of the fiercest human biotics in the galaxy pouts. Actually pouts, with the bottom lip and everything.

“Mason let him get drunk and then he ended up on stage with the dancers,” Zeus suddenly rumbles, cutting in to the conversation. Marie lets out a peel of laughter and Mason curses. “It was a riot. Had to pay for damages before they would let us leave.”

Ben looks confused. “Did I break something?”

“Only a lot of hearts, Benji,” Ethan chuckles indulgently and Mason snickers.

Luca tries very hard not to picture what the phoenix beside him would look like on a stage in colorful strobing lights and very little clothing in case his brain short circuits.

It does anyway.

“Uh,” he manages faintly. His voice suddenly feels like it’s coming from very far away.

“He ate the foliage on P1 too, once.”

Mason exhales heavily. “Phew, yeah. Now that was a rough night.”

That seems to snap Luca’s attention back and he eyes Ben and wonders if he needs to reconsider his crush. “You’re not gonna try to eat Meli, are you?”

There’s a little chirp in the corner from the drone when it hears its name. Ben cackles. “No, too spiky.”

“So was this your plan?” Sabre looks up from his glass as he addresses Zeus. “Get us all together to reminisce about old times?” His tone is faintly mocking but Zeus doesn’t react other than to pause his eating.

Ajax lets out a bark of brittle laughter. “Just hope that Huntsman doesn’t try to make another one of his fucking speeches.”

“Get fucked, Ajax,” Mason tells him cheerfully.

“We’re all hoping for that, Huntsman.”

Mason opens his mouth only for Marie to wave her knife threateningly in his direction. “Don’t fucking say it, Mase.”

Mason throws his hands up. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says but Luca hardly knows Mason from a bar of soap and even he recognizes that’s a lie.

“You’ll have to tell me the story behind that one later,” Luca hears Sabre whisper before pulling Mason in for a kiss.

“And there goes my fucking appetite,“ Ajax mutters, shooting daggers across the table.

Mason looks like he’s about to snap something else but Sabre’s hand lands on his knee. There’s a lowly uttered, babe and then just like that, Mason’s bristle fades. Luca was starting to understand why Marie had been concerned. Insurance policy, she had said but he’s not so sure a nobody like him would be able to do much if this lot decided to go to war.

RIP the SSV Berlin, Luca thinks. The captain will be pissed.

“This is the first time we’ve ever done this,” Zeus rumbles suddenly. His voice isn’t overly loud but it seems to carry across the room and make them all sink into their seats. Zeus scans his golden eyes around the table, skimming over each face until he stops and settles on Ben. “All of us.”

Ajax scoffs into the silence. “Fucking sentimental bullsh-“

“Maddy,” Marie hisses and Luca realizes with a start she looks like she’s on the verge of tearing up. Evidently Ajax realizes it too because he curses under his breath and sits back, arms folded tight across his chest and blue eyes simmering with ire he’s only just keeping in check.

Mason pushes aside his plate and gives up all semblance of good humor. He leans against Sabre. “The last time, at this rate.”

“So dramatic, Huntsman,” Ajax can’t resist a final dig.

Mason makes a visible effort to swallow his retort. Luca wonders curiously what would have happened if Sabre hadn’t been there. He shivers with the crackle of energy in the air, the latent biotics making his teeth ache again. It was going to fuck with his aids, he’s sure of it.

“We’re the only ones left,” Zeus continues. “Like it or not. There’s only us.”

“We’re not some fucking brady bunch, Zeus,” Ajax snaps. “Fuck this. I’ll go, then it really will be like old times-“

“No!” Ben jumps up, grips Ajax’s arm tight. “No, stay.”

“Aw, fuck, Scoots. This isn’t… It’s not you, okay.”

“Stay,” Ben sits Ajax down roughly and Luca has enough sense to shove the last of the pasta in his direction. He almost smiles as he takes it. At least Luca likes to think it’s a smile. It’s barely even a grimace, just a tight stretch of his lips over sharp teeth but there’s a collective easing of tension around the table.

“Hey,” Luca says brightly into the silence. “Wanna hear a song?”

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 22

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20, part 21

Hope everyone is keeping themselves mentally/physically well... here’s the next update in your adventure. Please safely read from home ;) 

The sun moved slowly up my window, illuminating the dancing dust in the air. Even though I knew dust didn’t have feelings, it all still looked very peaceful, suspended there in space. 

 I wanted to be suspended, floating, with no obligations or pressures. 

 Instead, I watched time slip by, slowly, as the shadows stretched along my floor and I lay still, wrapped in a giant Winnie-the-Pooh sheets burrito. 

I called in sick the past three days to work and to all my classes, my lack of attendance probably dropping me a letter grade in a few classes. Instead of checking on my academic scholarship, I begged Renny to drop off Dr. Rhinecuff’s papers for me. She did, lamenting about how his office smelled like roast beef and how she probably needed a nose job from it shrivelling up from the stench. Tired, I sent her three hearts, ignoring all of her calls and voicemails. 

 In a random bout of restless energy, I looked up the University of Oxford in England. No one would know me there. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing when you didn’t even know yourself. I stayed on their site for an hour, avoiding my take-home assignments, and speculating which classes I could take in the spring semester. My eyes grew tired though, and even if I were accepted as a transfer student, it wasn’t like I could ever afford it without scholarships. 

 I closed the computer. 

 It’d been cloudy, rainy. The random storm that’d come in from Mexico lasted longer than the usual morning fog that’d roll in and out by the time it was 9 AM. This storm lingered, heavy, full clouds looking to burst and unleash a steady rain for three to four hours before the clouds rested, storing up all they could until the next downpour. 

 My parents didn’t question me when I came in, used to my random visits. But when I went straight to my room without saying hello, rain-plastered hair covering puffy eyes, my mom basically collapsed at the sight. 

 She followed me to the bed, trying to see my face, but I buried it in the pillow, ignoring the way the purple fringe tickled my nose. 

 “What’s wrong sweetheart?” 

 I just groaned. Her voice was too gentle, too well-intending for the dark thoughts sitting in my mind. She’d be heartbroken if she heard them. 

 She huffed, not out of annoyance, but distress. “What’s bothering you?? Is it Renny? Did you breakup with Harry?” All those reasons were too simple. She ran her hands lightly along my legs, but I cringed away from her touch. It was something I rarely did. She paused. “You can tell me anything...” 

 I shook my head against the pillow, my last attempt to tell her to leave without speaking. She waited a moment longer. 

 “Okay,” she said. And that was it. 

 Father didn’t ask questions, not even when I was here for the third consecutive day. Mom had probably come to her own conclusions, and shared them with him. 

 “Mom said you aren’t feeling too well,” he said over cereal one morning, confirming my suspicions. It was the first time he’d broken our three-day spree of comfortable silence. 

 “What else did she tell you?” 

 He shrugged his shoulders, his usual buoyant self replaced with a quiet voice. He looked at me, and all I saw was pity. If I were him, I’d probably look at me the same way. I hadn’t showered in a while. “Well don’t let anything get you down. You’re too smart for that.”

 He’d tried. He’d put in an effort. I just nodded, scooping up another spoonful of cereal. He followed suit. 

 And that was that.  

 A week passed like this. 

 But overnight, the clouds had blown away, and the sun came back full-force this morning just in time for the weekend, renewing my guilt. That traitor. 

 I’d cried all of Monday and Tuesday, but when the last tear was shed in the middle of a New Girl episode, I was empty. My tears didn’t leave anything to replace them with. 

 On Wednesday, a phone alarm reminded me I had a therapy appointment. I hit snooze multiple times. It was only when I got up to pee, and I hated what I saw in the mirror that I threw on an oversized sweater to go over my pajamas and headed out the door. 

 “Is it good?” I asked. 

 Her hands reviewed my wants list.  

 “That’s just a coffee stain on the corner..just...ignore that bit,” I added. 

 She surveyed it briefly, not really focusing on it. “Were you honest?”

 I nodded.

 “Then there isn’t good or bad. It’s just your truth.”

 “But I still feel… I don’t know. I don’t think I know what that is. I don’t feel like I’m… progressing. Doing anything towards that,” I said. 

 She looked at me with a level gaze. “Then that’s your truth. And that’s okay for right now.”

 I shot her a glance.

 “I see a common struggle with people your age. They feel this….” -She adjusted, quirking her head- “immense pressure to be perfect, to figure it all out, to achieve success so early.” 

 “Everyone’s doing it,” I began. “They’re getting internships, keeping up their grades, involved in ten clubs, doing community service…” I could’ve droned on, but didn’t. 

 “You have an internship, your grades are good, you’ve joined a sorority, and up until recently you’ve been involved in tutoring. Those are extracurriculars.” 

 I couldn’t argue with her. 

 “Is it too much?” she asked.

 Too much. It was everything I’d been feeling until I’d felt nothing. But hearing her list off what was waiting for me just beyond her doors made me feel the weight of it all over again. 

 “I’ve just been overwhelmed.” 

 “Who have you been thinking about?” 

 She noticed I started picking my hangnail. 

 She started gently, knowingly. “Has it been Harry?” 

 “Ow,” I cursed. A bit of blood prickled up where the hangnail used to be. 

 “He seems to be a major stressor in your life. Would you agree?” The clock ticked behind her, filling the silence. Her hands rested in her lap, while mine swiped away the bit of blood. I could never remember my therapist’s name, but somehow it wasn’t important. 

 “Yeah, but … I mean …. there’s a lot of stressors.”

 “Like his friends?”

 His friends, in the abbreviated story I’d told her, stood in place for the gang. I’d used terms like … intimidating, mean, basically painting them as bullies who didn’t like us together. I wasn’t expecting to get much therapy from a lie. “Out of curiosity, if I were to tell you something… would you be obligated to report it to the police?” 

 “Not necessarily.” Her legs crossed, creased brows zeroing in with a laser focus. “Has something happened to you, Y/N?”

 I swallowed hard, the truth lodged in my throat. But I had gotten too used to the weight of the secret. “I was just curious…” My mind raced to change the subject, and I blurted about Zayn’s art show. 

 “Do you think this panic attack was induced by this heightened sense of scrutiny from Harry’s friends?” 

 “Probably.” 

 “You said there were others. What are your main stressors?’ 

 I settled in, more comfortable with this question. “There’s financial stressors, for one. And it’s exasperated here.” 

 “You’ve been dealing with financial difficulties for a while, now. Have you been feeling this anxious the entire time, or has it been recent?” 

 My foot tapped impatiently. We both knew the answer.

 “Your panic attack was a first,” she explained, gently. “Some new factor in your life pushed you there.” 

 I picked at the hangnail, wincing. It was gone. My skin was raw. 

 “Maybe it all links back to Harry.” She waited a moment to see if I’d speak. When I didn’t, she leant back, and pulled out a new sheet of paper, scribbling something down. “I want you to write a pros and cons list about your relationship with him, for next time. When your feelings are overwhelming, it helps to get everything on paper. In a list. Puts things in perspective.” 

 I drove home, her words had pushed themselves into my empty shell and now they clinked around, jostling up my insides like a pinball machine and giving me a headache. 

 Just because I hadn’t left the house all week didn’t mean I didn’t feel guilty for ditching work. God, I did. It killed me. I knew I was lucky to get that internship. Harry had mentioned how people killed just to get on the waitlist, and I didn’t doubt it. An OC internship with, if not the top, at least the most publicized private practice? I mean, I was typing in appointments next to a Southern Stanford grad if that speaks to the competition here. 

 And here I was, retreating back to my house, too drained to face the world. 

 As for Harry, after what I’d said to him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to talk to me ever again. 

 I’d been so cruel. 

 I was weak.  

 I felt guilty for feeling this way at all. 

 And then I would watch the dust again.

 It was a cycle. 

 About three blocks from my house on my way back from the therapist session, a familiar car passed me. It happened suddenly, unexpectedly, like most things do. We made eye contact before he passed, and my foot instantly lifted off the gas when my eyes connected with my brain. I whipped my head around but the matte black maserati sped up, disappearing from sight. 

 What was Harry doing this far from campus? 

 My heart beat erratically as I pulled into the driveway, and it was only seconds before I made it into the house. Father held up a hand in Grandpa’s old room. Phone call. Trudging silently to my own, I wrapped myself in a blanket burrito. 

 I’d been avoiding my phone, but I caved this time, checking J’s social media to see if he’d posted anything about being in the area to prove I WASN’T crazy and DIDN’T just hallucinate. Nothing. I tossed my phone on the other side of the room before I spiralled.  

 It didn’t matter. I was in my room. Alone. Safe. I focused on the dust. 

 Two little knocks disrupted my exciting mind game - which dust particle would fall further than the other. 

 “You’re turning ripe,” Father noted. His briefcase was still in his hand and he was coming startlingly close to my depression burrito. 

 “What are you doing-!?” I protested. But it was too late. He ripped the sheets off, exposing me in the t-shirt I’d been in since Monday. “Your mood won’t change if you don’t make an effort.

Come on.”

 “Where are we going?”

 “You’re coming to the water with me.” He hesitated at the door. “Shower first.” 

 In the car, a sense of comfort washed over me. He’d been right. Clean wet hair smelled nice and felt good slicked around my head. Even if Mom would complain I’d “catch cold,” it felt good to feel something. Dad’s speakers switched between classic rock and reggaeton as I sipped on the chocolate shake we picked up from the Shake Shack. It was a short drive away to the harbor, and once parked, a shorter walk to the public docks. 

 Our feet dangled above the water. It was too cold to go swimming this time of year, but my body buzzed with yearning despite the goosebumps on my skin. I wanted to feel encompassed by salty water. I wanted to be submerged, where everything was muted, a barrier between me and the world. Between my wet hair and the icy shake, I could pretend my body was as cool as the water below me. I could just…. dissolve. 

 “So what’s going on?” he opened up the conversation. “You having a hard time at school?” 

 “I don’t like the sorority.” 

 His brows raised, not expecting me to be so honest so soon. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, don’t you hate that shit?” 

 I looked at him, almost shocked he’d agreed with me. 

 The boats squeaked as they rocked with the rolling tides coming in from the ocean. I watched as a duffy boat wandered to the end of the jetty - where the harbor opened to the ocean. I took another big gulp of my shake, feeling the cold run down, freezing my esophagus. 

 “I liked frats, but sororities are different,” he mumbled, spooning his shake into his mouth. He’d gotten his usual Neapolitan, and it’d somehow stayed solid on the drive over. We hadn’t been to the Shake Shack in years, but I guess seeing his daughter waste away beneath her comforter was enough to break the dry spell. 

 “Why? Because its girls?” My lips were breaking into a smile without my consent. He didn’t make sense. 

 “They’re more catty.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

 “Dad! That’s verging on sexist.” 

 “Eh, I don’t know. I’m just saying things. Did you tell Mom you want to quit?” 

 I shook my head. 

 “Yeah…” he looked out at the boats, a quiet understanding passing between us. “She was really excited for you to join.” 

 “It’s not all bad…” 

 “Well if it’s not making you happy, don’t do it. Your mom doesn’t want you doing anything you don’t want to do. I was in a frat to shoot the shit with friends and it was something fun to do instead of study. If it’s not something fun for you, drop it.” 

 I could hear the words he was telling me, but it was like they were rolling off my shoulders, not really penetrating. He made it sound so easy, but it seemed like it was a million times harder than that. Everything was entangled, just as Harry had said. Not to mention Renny. If I quit, I felt like I’d lose her forever, too. I knew I could use a better friend, but that couldn’t erase the years of memories we had together. Losing Renny would feel like losing a part of myself. Not that I knew who that was anymore. 

 “Dad?” I asked. The question that'd weighed on my mind ever since I got home rested on the tip of my tongue. 

 “Yeah?” 

 “This is going to sound weird, but did you see Harry today?” 

 “Yeah. He stopped by,” he said, casually, spooning another mouthful. 

 I practically choked. “What? Why?! Weren’t you going to tell me?” 

 “Y/N, I’m working. I have a thousand things bouncing around in my head all the time.”

 “And?!!?”

 Harry couldn’t reach out to me beforehand? He drove by but- what? Didn’t even want to see me? 

 He sighed, not understanding the urgency. “He just stopped by, said hi. That’s all.” 

 My brows stitched. “Why would he say hi to you? What’d he say, exactly?” 

 “Oh, come on, I don’t know. I can’t remember-”

 “Dad!” 

 “All right, all right. Hi, how are you…” -his brain tried to remember- “he asked if you were doing okay. Then he left. He was nearby for a family brunch or something.” 

 “He asked about me?” 

 “Yeah. I mean, he didn’t go on and on, he just asked a question. He was in a rush.” 

 The shake froze me from the inside, and the breeze froze me from the out. But while I shriveled into myself, my guilt grew. “Dad?” 

 He hummed. 

 “Why are people so fake?” 

 He looked out at the harbor, peaceful for a winter’s morning. Only one small fishing boat headed towards the harbor’s edge, the sole fisherman at the helm facing the wind with the grace of a husband dealing with a temperamental spouse. 

 Father looked to our shoes as a random swell came, the water rising perilously close to our soles. Then, with all the untapped wisdom I seldom remembered parents had, “People are fake because they don’t know who they are,” he said.

 He got a call from the restaurant and drove us home. 

 In bed the next day, I ignored the pros/cons assignment, watching New Girl and making collages of Oxford in a word document until my eyes were burning from blue light exposure. I knew I was pushing it staying this long away from school, away from my problems. I was pushing myself, seeing how far my apathy could go. I woke up Thursday night at 2 AM from the rain pouring against my shutter and anger pricking my insides. 

 Harry was the reason I was in this position. As well as Viv, who fucked Harry. And Kiki, who gave me a DG Pretty Please, that just so happened to involve Harry. 

 I wanted him, but I wanted him to fuck off. Nothing was changing. Nothing was getting better. 

 It was all Harry, Harry, Harry, and no matter what, I ended up feeling insane.  

 At one point, I was going to have to choose myself. 

 I rolled over, blindly reaching for a pen, and scribbled in the dark. 

 If my therapist wanted a list, she’d get one helluva list. 

 -----------

“I’m glad you’re going, honey.” Mom released me from the lung-crushing hug. 

 I’d created enough Oxford collages and daydreamed about a new life until I couldn’t think of any other imaginary scenarios (or postpone collegiate life any longer). 

 The Friday sun had set. The game had already started. I thought about the crowd, all the people I’d see… 

 “Can I just stay the weekend?” 

 “Oh.” Her arms dropped from my sides. “Didn’t you promise your friends that you’d go?” 

 Renny. I’d promised Renny. Singular friend. My hand was in a fist, thumb rubbing anxiously over my fingers. I didn’t listen to her voicemails, there were seven of them. But she’d texted me fifty times in the past twenty minutes, declaring that she’d Venmo me gas money if I’d come to the game. 

 I’d been in my hole long enough. 

 “Yeah, I did.”

 “Well, you COULD stay-”

 I broke away, shaking my head. If I let her coddle me another minute, I think I’d crumble all over again. 

 “I love you,” she reminded me. “You’re my precious angel.” 

 From the living room, the muffled applause from the game show Father had fallen asleep to faded further as I left. 

 Momma’s robe-bundled frame waved on the driveway, her sad smile burning in my mind long after she disappeared from view.

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

 Come on, come on, come ON. 

 The path to the stadium took forever. No shame, I was full-on running, braless, fresh pit-stains on display as I booked it to the gate. 

 It was completely dark now, and the usual fleet of cop cars seemed to have all but disappeared the week I’d been gone. Only one passed me by, and the rest of the student body probably all congregated around the stadium. 

 When I saw the art studio, I slowed. It was completely dark, except for one entry light. The paintings would still be displayed... My pounding heart told me to keep running, and I hesitated, listening to it for a moment before walking to the door. I tugged on its metal handles, parts of me seizing up as it opened, giving way to my touch. 

 I crept into the space, feeling like an intruder as I walked through the exhibit. 

 For some reason, I expected it to look differently, to see it blurred together as I’d seen it before in a panic. 

 I was still hanging amidst the vines, but this time the paintings looked less threatening. Maybe it was the fact that I was alone, maybe it was because I’d already felt the worst of it. 

 Each piece was sold. 

 I looked over my shoulder a couple times before letting out a small shout. A tester. 

 It echoed in the space. 

 I did it again, louder, at my full about-to-be-murdered capacity.

 I must’ve looked absolutely mental, but as I heard my shout reverberate around me, at least I felt something.  

 Five charcoal sketches in particular ran horizontally together. 

 Lust / Longing / Love / Lost / Loss

 Had he seen all of this in me? He’d certainly seen other bits I hadn’t shown him. 

 My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out. Renny. Without thought, I started her stream of voicemails.

 Y/N where the FUCK are you!? Zayn’s concerned and I’m concerned and you’re not in the room-

 Next. 

 Are you really sick? Or is this just some BS excuse. Or is this real and Harry gave you tonsilitis or something. I want to hear your voice. Ilyyyyy. 

 Next. 

 It’s meeeeee. Niall’s busy and you’re sick and I don’t know what to dooooo. Housewives isn’t as fun without-

 Next.

 BABE WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME CALLS DO YOU HATE ME, AND YES I MEANT TO SAY ME INSTEAD OF MY I HOPE YOU’RE LAUGHING-

 Next.

 DUDE. You will not believe what just happened- Harry just stopped by. 

 My thumb paused, letting it stay. 

 I was avoiding his texts because I think he’s a dick. Well, he IS a dick, even if Niall said he was going through a lot. It’s still not an excuse. But Harry LEGIT found me on campus, like not even when I was with Niall at the house, but at our APARTMENT...I-hold on. Ew, pastrami professor just passed me. What are the odds? OKAY BUT SERIOUSLY, I almost punched him when I opened the door because remember last time he basically told me off. But… I don’t know. It was different this time. He seemed… so concerned. Frazzled. I don’t even know the word to describe it. Ugh, if you were here you would be able to TELL ME what the word is. I miss you. Come back. 

 The voicemail rolled into the next. 

 I’m just pretending to talk on the phone right now because the boy I hooked up with last year is staring me THE FUCK down right now-

 A creak in the pipes startled me, and the voicemail was all but forgotten. 

 My heart beat fast. 

 It was very, very quiet. 

 With one noise in the dark, the art pieces turned menacing. An oil painting in the corner of the room morphed into the Styles’ portrait. It wasn’t here. It couldn’t be here. I squinted, blinking through the dark. The portrait I thought I’d seen was just a painting of two silhouetted men facing each other. My heart still beat like I’d just ran a marathon though. I wasn’t about to be a part of the next horror movie “art comes alive.” 

 I booked it out faster than I came, answering Renny’s call on the way. 

 ---------

“Thank fucking finally,” Renny huffed, leaning over Lynn to draw me in a hug.

 “You didn’t miss much,” Lynn said, looking past me towards the game. I sat on Renny’s other side so she was in the middle, but when I looked at the scoreboard - Home, zero. Guest, two - I knew it was a done deal. Some people had already left, but half the stadium was still here, either hoping for a miraculous recovery or refusing to put their tails between their legs for pride’s sake. I noticed a group of parents in Chapman gear huddled together, waving their flags. No Mary or Lionel Styles in sight. 

 “How’s he been?” I asked. It’s like my head already knew where to turn, because as soon as I looked to the field, I found him. On the bench, elbows on his knees, head bent over.  

 “How’ve YOU been?” Renny asked. “I was seriously about to drive over to your house and check on you.” 

 Someone beat you to it. The thought was sour. For as much as Renny could claim her undying love for me, I was struggling to see the actions to support it. Everyone was disappointing. 

 “He’s been playing like shit,” Lynn answered.  

 “Brought back some...” His sentence died. Of all people, Zayn stood there, stopped, popcorn in hand. “Hey, Y/N.” 

 Felix stood behind Zayn, giving me a small wave. Zayn was clearly waiting for me to make the first move, but I turned away to the field. I didn’t know what to say. 

 From my peripheral, I saw them sit down by Lynn. 

 As soon as he did, it hit me like a flashfood. I knew what I was feeling. Anger. Discomfort. Shame. That he could expose me so easily, that he’d looked through my clothes in a way I never permitted. That he could sit down so comfortably without apologizing, as if nothing had happened. 

 Renny leaned in. “Are you okay?” 

 “No.”

 She flinched at the abrupt answer. “Do you want to leave?” 

 I stopped myself from saying yes. I didn’t want to have to climb over Zayn to get out of here. That would be more than uncomfortable. 

 “No, I’ll tell you later.” 

 I didn’t speak the rest of the game, pretending not to hear him cheer or laugh or make a snide remark to Felix every other second. Like the annoying click of a fan when you’re trying to fall asleep, Zayn’s every move made anger shake my bones. Lynn gave me sympathy looks every once in a while. It wasn’t like me to be this quiet, and even with our friendship being as new as it was, she knew that much. 

 The crowd didn’t roar this time. They were silent as the clock hit zero, staring blatantly at its twin beneath Home. The Guest team’s few Minnesota supporters jumped like little beans on the other side of the field, but their cries were faint. 

 We’d lost. 

 Everyone stood, and Renny linked her arm with mine. A familiar habit. “We’re going to Viv’s for some post-game depression drinks now.” 

 But I stopped her. 

 “I think I want to go back to the room,” I winced. 

 “Come on, PLEASE? It’ll be fun, you were barely here for the game.” 

 “I don’t know, depression and Viv in the same sentence… You really know how to sell a party.” 

 “Aren’t you coming, Y/N?” Lynn made moves to follow the rest of the crowd that was funneling out of the stands.  

 I shook my head at the same time Renny nodded hers. 

 She huffed. “Why not? It’s going to be chill. We lost. It��s not going to be like the usual ragers.” She popped her hip, completely deadpanned. “You haven’t seen another college-aged person in a week.” 

 “Yeah and there’s a reason for that.” 

 Concern washed over her, voice lowering. “Tell me.” 

 As if on cue, Zayn and Felix stopped their descent down the bleachers and looked up at the girls, waiting for them to join. It was all I could do to not scream at them. 

 “Later,” I said. “You’re leaving now.” 

 “I don’t have to leave right now, it’s not starting yet...” Renny began, but Lynn gave her a look that said yes, they were leaving now. 

 “She wants us to help set-up,” Lynn explained. 

 “But it’s a small thing, right?” I teased Renny. 

 My bestie rolled her eyes, lips pinching. “Are you SURE?” 

 I nodded, sitting down on the cool metal bleacher again. Renny took a step towards me, a sad look on her face, but I held up my hand. 

 “I’m fine,” I said, when I felt anything but. “I just want to wait until the crowd leaves.” I picked up the popcorn bag she’d left behind and threw a handful in my mouth with a cheesy, hopefully convincing grin.

 She grimaced, briefly looking back to Lynn who was anxiously waiting. “Fine. But we’re still talking about this later. I friggin miss you.”

 She left with the others, funneling out towards a party she’d probably stay at until the early morning. 

 I didn’t want to go back to the room. I didn’t want to go anywhere. 

 The lights were so bright on soccer fields. Bugs flew in and around, racing each other faster than the dust in my room. It wasn’t until the janitors walked past me that I realized I’d been sitting there for too long. I reached in the popcorn bag, but my hand came up empty. They’d gone overboard on the salty butter, but somehow, I’d still managed to eat all of it. 

 Even with everyone off the field though, I didn’t feel alone. An older Hispanic woman taking out the trash saw me walking down and opened up the bag. 

 “Thank you,” I said, smiling. 

 She just smiled in return, nodding her head as she continued down the aisle.

 Leaving the field’s gates, I was prepping for another mini run-for-my-life-and-back-to-the-dorm anxiety episode, when I heard someone shuffling. There were faint groaning noises, and I sped up my pace. 

 For a flash second, I thought someone was winning the “sleep in the locker room” bet, but when I tossed my head-back mid-run, I stopped so quickly, I almost tripped. 

 “Harry?” 

 There, in the dark, barely concealed by the shadows, he stumbled out. His abdomen looked… glossy? But then the light reflected crimson. 

 I ran to him as he fell, his white jersey stained with blood. “Oh my God, oh my God…” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “What happened?! Are you okay!?” 

 He pushed me back. “M’fine.” But his voice was strained. He stumbled again, and I reached out before he fell. 

 I thought the blood from his shirt had fallen from a bloody nose, but his hand moved to my arm in a vice-like grip, revealing a gash in his jersey, I saw more liquid pool out from his gut and I almost gagged. 

 “You are BEYOND fine. You aren’t fucking fine!!” 

 “We have to leave. Have to… get out of here.” He grimaced. His face, his beautifully chiselled face was swollen on one side, his lip cut from impact. 

 “Okay. OKAY. I need to call the cops. The cops. I’m going to call them.” Shaky hands took out the cellphone, but he threw it down. “HARRY!” 

 “Take me to the physical therapy room?” 

 I looked at his chest. “You’re bleeding. A LOT.” My free arm reached for the tossed phone, but he tugged me back. 

 “No. They’ll write a report. I can’t have a-” he winced, sucking in a breath, and I reached for the phone again. “DON’T. Fucking hell. Don’t call anyone.”

 My eyes racked his frame again, and I immediately applied pressure to his ab area, right where the gash was. He sucked in a breath, unleashing a string of curses I couldn’t hear right now. “Oh my God,” I breathed. 

 “Answer me,” he growled. 

 My mind scrambled for his question… he wanted me to take him to the physical therapy room.  “YES! Yes. I have the- fuck, yes, I know where the keys are.” I looked at him again. What the FUCK.

 “Stop freaking out,” he grunted, but he weakened the next second, his eyes fluttering before coming back to me. 

 “Okay, hold on. Hold onto me. Keep applying pressure.” 

 The physical therapy room wasn’t too far, bits of blood that’d fallen to his shoes marking our path.

 “Why aren’t all the cops here?” 

 “They’re on rotation. The parties... they’llbestationedthere-JESUS.” We paused, letting him catch his breath. But it was shallow. Too shallow. 

 “Can you wait here for a second?” I asked.

 He nodded, resting against a lamp post. 

 I hurried to the lockbox located behind the planter, punching in the code and unlocking it at lightning’s speed. 

 I didn’t know if there were cameras. I didn’t know if this was illegal. 

 I didn’t care.

 We made it through the doors, and he was just about to sit on the table when- 

 “WAIT!” I ran to grab several rags and laid it beneath him before heaving him up. The soft cry he made when sitting down was like a knife through my own chest. 

 I grabbed scissors, cutting his t-shirt. I didn’t have time to linger, I didn’t have time to notice the way his tattoos were completely concealed by a red current. There were two wounds. One, deeper, the other, more shallow. Both in the lower left abdomen, just above a prominent v-line.  

 I wiped around the area, pausing above the gashes. “This is going to sting,” I warned. 

 There wasn’t fear in his eyes. He watched me, and I, him, as I pressed it against the open skin. He trembled, wincing, mouth opening in silent exclamation.  

 “You’re doing good,” I whispered. 

 “So are you,” he gritted out. 

 I swallowed, reaching for the butterfly bandages. But as soon as I did, more blood rushed out. I held a rag to him. “Save your breath. You need it.”

 The thin white bandages seemed too little in the wake of his wound, and just as one bandage was placed, he cringed away, regretting his decision to move almost immediately.

 “Fucking hurts,” he groaned. 

 “Stop moving! I need to close the wound up. You’re bleeding too much.” 

 “Y/N, just take me home. Call Lionel,” he panted. 

 “I’m calling 911 if you don’t let me at least attempt to close this wound because if we leave now you’ll bleed out.” 

 “You’ve done enough, please-”

 “STOP. TALKING. I’ll call him after.” He saw a flame behind my eyes, and quieted, too weak to protest much more anyway. I came closer, and this time he didn’t flinch. The butterfly bandages at least minimally shrunk the open gouges. 

 With no other choice, I left him there alone, running across campus to my car and driving back in less than five minutes. It was illegal to drive through student walkways, let alone drive 60 mph, but there wasn’t a choice. I kept picturing Harry passing out, his limp God-like body, turned mortal, weak, bleeding out all over the training room floor. My foot hit the gas pedal harder. I could’ve been a damn marathon winner/race car driver. Let the cops add “speeding” to the file they already had on me. 

 Once we were both in the car, I looked over at him every two seconds. An entire roll of tight gauze around his abdomen kept the wound from bleeding out, but it was still turning pink. It was the second time blood would have been on my car. 

 Of all the revenge daydreams I’d had, I would’ve settled for Harry seeing me make out with Andre on the dancefloor over THIS. Would he die in my car? Would I be responsible?? I looked at the cheesy Angel pin my mom had given me for my car mirror. Never Fly Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly. Where was my angel now?? 

 “Where are we going?” He asked, between fading in and out.

 “To your house.” 

 His hand grabbed mine on the wheel and I practically swerved into the center divider from shock. 

 “HARRY!” 

 “We need to go to my house,” he said suddenly, panicked, as if I’d told him the opposite. 

 I placed our interlocked hands above the console. A safe distance away from the wheel in case he lurched again. 

 “Don’t worry, we’re going there. We’re going to your house. You’re just in shock, it’s okay,” I cooed, but it was desperate. And it was definitely not okay. 

 “They’ll ask… less..less questions...” 

 His grip was unbearably tight for three long seconds before it relaxed. 

 “Stay with me. Stay awake,” I urged. Harry’s lids kept drooping and I was desperate, blasting the Air Conditioning to an uncomfortable temperature. 

 Lionel picked up on the second ring. 

 “It’s Y/N. I think Harry’s been stabbed-” 

 “What?!” 

 “- I told him we should call the cops, but he was adamant we call you instead.” 

 “Seal the wound with whatever you can-”

 “I did that. Not well, we didn’t have wound sealant- Okay, I’m rambling. I don’t know what to do, but he needs to see a doctor. Immediately.” 

 There was a long pause. 

 “Hello?” my voice wavered. 

 “Bring him to the practice.” The voice over the other line was that of a doctor, matter-of-fact, somber. 

 Hoag Hospital passed me, a nagging thought telling me that’s where we should be going - where there was paperwork, evidence, some legitimate accountability. But I wasn’t his father. I wasn’t responsible. 

 “On my way. I’m getting off the freeway now.” 

 The call ended, and as I looked at Harry, fading dangerously out of consciousness, my hands trembled more from fear than cold. Out of all the reactions, I hadn’t expected this one. The voice on the other line hadn’t seemed surprised at all. 

come talk to me about the chappie or just about how you’re doing! now’s the time to stay connected :)