#and will also probably continue to do so bec she is a problem
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aaaaanndbackstabbed · 1 year ago
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Della: ARE YOU-
Launchpad: fucking.
Della: KIDDING ME?! YOU-
Launchpad: fucking.
Della: IDIOT!
Goldie:…now, what was that?
Launchpad: Donald banned Della from swearing so I’m helping her out
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lostusagis · 1 year ago
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@jiraipink asked: ❤ - What's something you feel like your muse needs to work on for a relationship to happen or for a relationship to be healthy? Do you think that's possible? Or is it something that'll likely never happen? (For both!)
Let's talk about romance! Muse questions
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( Kagura's biggest and only problem really is that she's quick to anger. it tends to be really hard to talk things out with her because Kagura being mad tends to lead to her yelling, and not wanting to listen to reason depending on what exactly she's mad over. She doesn't hurt her partners when she's pissed though at least.
It is possible for her to work on this, but it's a matter of having patience with her. I suppose if someone dated Kagura, they would already be aware she has a foul temper. I think something really important when dating Kagura is explaining that her actions can be hurtful. She doesn't have a filter like her brother too, and certain things slip out that can be really insulting. She's really used to talking like this to people, and her partner needs to explain that being spoken to like that hurts, if it bothers them. Not all people are the same but IF it bothers them it needs to be said or she won't realize.
Kagura will feel bad if any of this is brought to her attention at least, she doesn't want to hurt the person she loves. Hell, getting her to fall in love is pretty impressive in itself so it means she's willing to go above and beyond to help them be happy dating her. She also doesn't fall in love easily after all. )
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( *Internal groaning* So much needs to be worked on, but it's occurring to me a lot of the muses he's shipped with often encourage and don't scold his behavior and this leads to it continuing LMFAO.
Kamui is extremely problematic. Starting off with how possessive he is as a boyfriend. I'm talking just looking at his partner for too long will piss him off. He's VIOLENT too and ends up beating the shit out of whoever was talking or looking at his partner for too long. Killing happens more often than not too. This is connected to that other headcanon for something you sent me, where I mentioned he tends to feel a lot with his emotions. An argument would break out if his partner expresses not liking his behavior. Which leads to another issue he has. Kamui especially after a really severe case of jealousy tends to mark his partner, a lot. If this isn't something they're into, they really needs to mention it asap. Because despite everything he does care about consent. He won't enjoy something if his partner feels uncomfortable.
Kamui, a lot of the time, doesn't like admitting he's wrong. It depends on the situation like if he accidentally harms his partner, he will admit to his mistake there. But for a lot of arguments in general it's next to impossible to get him to back down. He's extremely petty and childish. Self esteem issues but also egotistical and arrogant. It's really hard to explain.
This is like a given but he tends to solve most situations with violence or killing. Unfortunately, getting him to stop killing completely is next to impossible. However, talking to him about this might at least get him to work on his temperamental issues so he won't kill someone solely for annoying him too much. Like Kagura, temper issues. They got it from their mom probably but yeah. Thing though about Kamui, he doesn't yell, he channels all of it into his violent acts.
As to the concern over his lack of filter, depending on the dynamic between him and his partner, he may or may not ease up on the insulting way he talks. But there will be the occasion of him saying really out of pocket shit. If his partner ends up mad, well, he'll feel extremely guilty after and will do anything to try and make it up to them.
But yeah. Overall.... one should be wary of Kamui being a violent asshole when wanting to date him. Getting him to change how problematic he is definitely isn't the easiest thing to do. Expressing that they'll leave him because of one of his acts will definitely make him more likely to change, because it'll make him really anxious over losing someone important to him.
However, again, getting him to change behaviors he has because of being a Yato is not possible. Maybe they could get him to fight less? But not to stop fighting/killing completely. It's like trying to take the feral nature out of a wild lion.
But maybe he could change the possessiveness. But again, he's childish. He doesn't want anyone stealing what's 'his' away from him. He doesn't want them looking at his partner in the same way he does either. God forbid they try flirting 💀 Death is immediate usually. But it's possible for him to work on that. Those feelings are largely due to him never experiencing romance before, and realizing how much he enjoys it and not wanting to ever lose it.
So yeah.... there's a lot of unhealthy aspects that come with dating Kamui. Way worse than Kagura, all Kagura has is a short temper and some mild rudeness, Kamui has a whole list of red flags. A lot of his behavior won't be found out until a person starts dating him too. Kamui is definitely a person that's hard to change, next to impossible, but if he really loves someone he'll definitely try and change certain things because he does value his partner's happiness a lot. But a person needs to be prepared for a lot of bullshit if they want him as a boyfriend. )
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marvel-vision · 4 years ago
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Universes
Summary - Wanda just wanted her family back, this isn't the way she thought it was going to happen.
Warnings - Over use of the word hell, like one swear word.
Words - 1.5k
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Moving into a secluded cabin in the woods to work on herself was probably the best thing Wanda could do for herself. Not only did it give her time to heal her broken heart but it gave her time to improve her newfound power. 
She had hope that if she continued to explore her abilities she could bring you and your boys back to her. 
After a hard year of trial and error and lots and lots of reading, she had managed to bring Tommy and Billy back to her, exactly the same as when she'd last seen them in Westview. It was all very emotional, and they spent the day cuddled up to each other refusing to let go in case it was all some dream. Though if it had been a dream you would also have been there. 
Her days were made easier now that she had her sons back, but that didn't slow her search for her wife, you. Through all of the horrible things in her life you were there for her, offering your unwavering support, and she loved you for it. It hurt to find out about your death against Thanos' army when she was snapped back into existence, but it gave her the motivation to destroy him and anything in her way to avenge your death. 
She needed you. She couldn't go through the rest of her life without you. The Westview incident was evidence enough of that. 
She tried one last spell before she went to bed. It was a last ditch effort that she was certain wouldn't work, but it was worth a shot to try it all, you were worth it. But of course, nothing happened. Huffing out a breath of disappointment, Wanda blew out the candles, rubbed the exhaustion out of her eyes and dropped onto her bed falling into a deep sleep almost immediately. 
Wanda was rudely woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud scream. Squinting her eyes against the harsh light, she looked around her, trying to find the source of her new alarm. 
"Who the hell are you, and what the HELL are you doing in my bed?" This person was certainly not happy. Wanda on the other hand had perked up upon hearing them. She knew that voice, she'd been dreaming of that voice every night since she last heard it. 
She sprung up from the bed, so ready to embrace you for the first time in so long, when you flinched at her movements. Only then did it occur to her the words that you had said. 'Who are you?' Did you not know? How? 
She could practically hear your intentions when you quickly glanced towards the door of your room. "Wait" She exclaimed, not wanting to let you leave until you could talk this through. 
Nope. You were not doing this. Especially not with the weird pretty lady you knew for a fact was not in your bed the night before. You made a dash for the door and sprinted through to the living room, internally cursing yourself for not grabbing your phone on the way. No problem, you'd just go to your neighbours to call the police. 
Except there seemed to be two little boys, staring at you in awe, standing right in the way. OK, so crazy lady apparently bought her two kids with her, great. You made a quick turn into the kitchen, crashing right into the island. 
You could hear the woman calling your name and rushing up behind you. You rounded the counter, putting a little bit of distance between you and her. 
"Y/N-" She seemed pretty panicked but you didn't care. She broke into your house, layed in your bed- with you still in it and dragged what you presumed were her children with her. 
"No stop, I don't know you, who the hell are you and how do you know my name? Oh and while I'm asking questions why the hell are there two young boys in my living room? What sick criminals drags children along to break and enter?" 
"Just calm down, please I can explain. Well try to explain. I'm not entirely sure how this happened but I'll try. Please, please keep an open mind because I know this will sound crazy." She waited for you to give her the nod to continue and when you did, she explained what she thought was going on. "You're my wife-" 
"OK yep, nope, I'm done." You immediately backtracked your permission to continue. 
"And those boys in there are our sons-" 
"That's not even possible. And I'm sure I'd have remembered being married with kids." 
"And I've been trying to get you back since you died." 
There was a long silence and then a really quiet "You're not crazy," Wanda let a relieved smile creep up on her face that vanished when you finished speaking. "You're fucking insane." 
"NO no no. I'm Wanda Maximoff, y'know a part of the avengers. You were to that's how we met." It finally clicked for her. She'd managed to move her and her sons into a different universe. One where, judging by your confused expression, the avengers weren't a thing. She let her head drop and a deep sigh escape her. You might look like her wife, sound like her, but you weren't her. "I'm sorry. This must be strange for you. I'll work on getting me and my sons home, but I'll need time. And someone to keep them occupied. I'm sorry for all of this." 
Well that was a full 180. This woman was going to give you whiplash. You were going to regret this, "I guess you can stay here while you do that, and I guess I can keep your kids company." 
She so desperately wanted to hug you as thanks, but figured that would be too weird for you, so instead she thanked you and left to go start on finding a way home. 
It wasn't too bad you supposed, the boys Billy and Tommy, were sweet if not a bit awkward at the fact that their mum didn't recognise them. They respected that though and didn't push you to be that for them. Regardless of that however, you fell into the role of their parent as if it was nothing. 
You hadn't expected the process of getting them long to be short but you didn't think it would take months. You had set up a makeshift room for Wanda and the boys and had started to develop a cute routine that you craved. You'd wake up to the smell of Wanda making breakfast for you, and her small family, she'd then go to work on finding a way home while you played with your sons. On days where you had work you'd come home to a lovely home cooked meal and sit and talk about your day, on other days you, Billy and Tommy would make Wanda dinner. 
You had to remind yourself multiple times that this was all temporary and that they would be leaving soon. But, you weren't so sure that's what you wanted anymore. You loved your new family. You wanted to keep them forever. 
Once the boys had been tucked away into their beds, you grabbed Wanda's hand and dragged her to the couch in the living room. She was a little confused as usually she'd just go back to researching to find a way home but accepted this new development easily. 
You both got comfortable next to each other, your bodies angled in a way you could talk and see each other. 
"I've been thinking," you started, "these past few months with you and our boys have been... perfect." 
Wanda couldn't stop the smile from growing on her face. It was the first time she'd heard you call Billy and Tommy 'ours' in what felt like a lifetime. She didn't stop you though, she wanted to hear what you had to say, it seemed important. 
"And I know that we agreed you'd be leaving but, if I'm being honest, I don't want you to leave. I think I'd like it if you stayed actually. If you'd like of course. If you don't want to stay with me, in this universe, I totally wouldn't blame you, I mean it would make sense, you've got a whole life there. But yeah I think I'm in love with you, and I'd love it if you would stay." 
The tears in her eyes froze you, but the nearly imperceptible nod gave you hope. "I'd love to stay with you. I'm sure our sons would too. You may not be who I married but I love you too." 
Living in this universe with you, was a dream come true. No supernatural or extraterrestrial threats that could danger you, and now she could live that normal life she had always dreamed about. Her only responsibilities being you, Billy and Tommy, and maybe keeping all of their powers a secret.
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mediocre-writerr · 4 years ago
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when you love someone [leah rilke]
leah rilke x fem reader
request #1: Ahhhhh I love your Leah x reader series!!! It’s so good :) I know you have a bunch of requests but would you consider doing a part four where Leah and her are sitting up one night and the reader confesses shares more about her past, maybe something darker (like knowing the reason that Becca died, but she doesn’t blame Shelby) and that she never wants to leave Leah once they get home and they fantasize their future together. The other girls overhear and also share what they want to do when they get home. Lots of fluff because the girls deserve it, lol
hi guys! i love this series so much, honestly it’s one of my favorite ones to write! so as long as you guys keep requesting for this series to keep going and ideas for it, it’ll keep going! so if you love this series as much as i do keep requesting for it! also i have a lot of imagines queued up so stay tune!
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*not my gif*
You were sat in between Leah’s legs, her arms wrapped around you. Her front pressed against your back as her head hooked onto your shoulder. You relax into her touch, pressing a kiss to her temple. 
“What was life like back home?” she asks you, breaking the comfortable silence.
You shrug, staring back out at the ocean, “Um not the greatest. It was really me and Shelby against the world.” 
“What about that Becca girl you and Shelby always mention? Weren’t you like the three musketeers?” Leah asks jokingly, but your whole mood seems to change, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 
“No it’s okay, really. I trust you enough to tell you.” you say and she tightens her arms around you, giving you a soft squeeze.
Before you go on with your story, you kiss her softly. And a small smile appears on her face as the two of you pull away.
You let out a sigh, “You were right it was always me, Shelby, and Becca against the world. The three musketeers. But anyone with eyes can tell that me and Shelby were closer.”
“This is terrible!” you exclaim, your face contorting into disgust as you pushed the 7/11 hot dog away from you. 
“I can’t believe you ate that!” Shelby adds on, pretending to gag.
Becca picks up the hot dog from the hood of your car, casually taking a bite, “It’s not that bad!” she says with a mouthful of gas station hot dog.
“Eww Becs!” you and Shelby say in unison, before laughing at how the two of you were in sync. 
“Reputation was big at our school. If you didn’t have a good reputation, you might as well fall off the edge of the Earth. If you couldn’t tell, Shelby and I were the top of the social food chain. Popular, pretty, everything all the girls wanted to be.” you say.
“Ah, you had the classic typical movie high school.” Leah says, trying to get a better grasp on the story, “I’m assuming Becca didn’t have the best rep.” 
You nod, still staring out at the big blue, “You assume correctly. She had a few mental health problems. Her parents sent her away for a little bit and it was this big uproar at the school. When she came back me and Shelby never loved her less. At the time though, I didn’t quite know the extent of how much Shelby actually loved her.” 
“Wait so Shelby had feelings for Becca?” she asks.
“Mhm, that’s what caused the downfall.” 
“Hey Shelb? Are you okay?” you ask her softly, you were driving her home after bowling with your two best friends.
She just looks at you with a tight-lipped smile, “Yeah...I’m okay.” 
You give her a look and raise your eyebrows, “Why do I not believe you?” 
“Because you worry about me too much.” she says, mocking the look you were giving her.
“I only worry when I have a reason. You’ve been quiet since we trashed the car. You didn’t even sing ‘The Climb’ with me.” you shoot back, staring at her seriously.
“I’m okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Shelby says, giving you a hug before heading inside.
“I didn’t find out about their kiss until later. When Shelby came to me crying, the last time the two ever spoke.” you continue onto through your sob story. 
There was a frantic knock on your front door. You were home alone watching Criminal Minds, so you were a little taken a back at the pounding at your door. You open the door just a tiny bit, peeking through the little hole you created.
Shelby was standing on your porch, pacing back and forth. Tears streaming down her face. You immediately open the door wider and she crashes into your arms. 
“I’m ruined, everything is ruined.” she whispers softly.
You run your fingers through her hair, “Shh...it’s gonna be okay. Whatever it is we’re gonna be okay. I promise.” 
“That night she told me everything. She didn’t want to admit to herself or anyone else, but with me it was like a truth serum. All of it just spilt out, her feelings for Becca. Her feelings for girls in general.” you let out another sigh.
“Why was it a big deal?” Leah asks, hesitantly, knowing it’s a bad topic. 
You let out an empty laugh, “If you met our parents you would know why.” 
“Y/N come down here!” your parents yell from downstairs.
You skip your way down the stairs and into the kitchen, “Yes?” 
“Mr. Goodkind told us about Shelby and Becca.” they begin and you swallow tightly, “We wanted to make sure Shelby didn’t do anything like that to you. Or make sure you didn’t do anything to her.” 
“No I haven’t and why would it matter if I did or if she did?” you retort and your parents look a little taken aback by that comment.
“You know why, the Bible says-” your parents say, giving you a look.
Internally you roll your eyes, “People deserve to love who they want without being judged. God loves everyone, no matter what they do. That’s what you always taught me right? Not to carry hate in your heart?” you say and your father opens his mouth, but you keep going, “But you're gonna stand her and carry hate in your heart for Shelby when you don’t even know what happened.” 
“Y/N...is there something you’d like to tell us?” your mother asks. 
You wanted to tell them. Just blurt it out. Maybe you and Shelby could be burnt at the stake together, but you just gave a tight-lipped smile.
“No.”
“So I’m not gonna win daughter in-law of the year.” Leah says jokingly and you laugh, thankful for the laugh in a serious conversation.
“Definitely not.” you respond, still chuckling to yourself.
“Damn...but proceed onto the story.” she says, gesturing for you to continue.
“That day, the day that Becca died I was at Shelby’s pageant. I sat with her awful parents. Who were finally okay with me being there, after a long conversation between them and my parents.” you say rolling your eyes.
Leah tightened her arms around you, probably sensing that this would take a turn. She hooked her head back on your shoulder, kissing your cheek softly. You smile softly at her sweet antics.  
“Mrs. Gilroy?” you ask, stepping out of the little theater.
You could hear little sniffles on the other end of line, “Oh Y/N. Becca...she’s dead. I found her in her car, she purposefully crashed it into a street light. We called 911 and rushed her to the hospital, but she uh she didn’t make it.”
And you just dropped your phone onto the floor. Before falling softly to your knees. Frantically, picking up the phone. Tears streaming down your face at the news.
“Do you need anything Mrs. Gilroy? I’m sorry-I’m sorry you have to go through this.” you ask, trying your best to stay strong.
“We’re okay for now honey, thank you. But she left you and Shelby notes. You can swing by and grab them.” she suggests and you knew she wanted you to have them. 
“Okay. I’ll be over later tonight.” 
You rushed your way into the contestant’s dressing room. Desperate to find Shelby to let her know the news. When you found her, she was staring blankly at herself at the mirror. Someone already told her.
“Shelby?” you say, you voice barely above a whisper. 
Her head immediately turns to you and she gets up from her seat, rushing towards you. Flinging herself into your arms, she buried her face into the crook of your neck. You could feel the tears fall upon your neck as your cheeks were stained with your own. 
“She can’t be gone.” Shelby sobbed out and you shut your eyes tight, shaking your head softly.
“But she is love...she’s gone.” 
“I got 31 calls from Becca that night. If I just-if I just answered one phone call. She could still be here right now. She’d be at home, practicing her bowling so she could kick me and Shelby’s ass when we got home.” you say, a small tear slipping down your cheeks.
“You can’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.” Leah reassures you and you nod, swallowing to choke back the tears.
You take your hand and wipe off the tears that were falling, “I know. But I don’t blame Shelby either. I couldn’t, maybe this new me would, but the old me couldn’t. Her parents would have done anything to stop her from feeling that way. Her reputation would be shot. And in a small town like ours, that’s a death sentence.” 
“Is that why you want to save everyone?” she asks, finally understanding everything, “Because you couldn’t save Becca?”
You nod, “I can’t lose anyone else. Especially Shelby and you.” 
“What’s gonna happen when we get back to the real world? With us?” she asks you.
“I’m not the girl I was before I came here. I’ve learned that reputation and what other people of you doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not gonna matter in the long run. So I don’t want to leave your side.” you tell her, turning around to be face to face with her.
She cups your cheeks softly, “Baby, we live miles and miles away from each other.” 
“I don’t care. I don’t want to be apart from you. We could have our own little apartment with Shelby and Toni and probably Martha.” you suggest to her and she smiles widely, “Breakfasts every morning, but don’t ask Shelby to cook she’s shit at it.”
Leah laughs softly, “It’s okay I can cook. Double dates all the time, playing UNO with Martha. Lazy mornings, twisted in bedsheets.”
“Reading together in bed quietly before bed.” you add on and she smiles and nods.
“Our perfect life.” 
“Fuck you Y/N, you suck at cooking more than I do.” Shelby’s voice cuts in from her spot next to me. 
You and Leah both jump at her voice. Thinking that you two were the only ones awake. 
“Would we really all live with each other?” Toni asks, “I don’t want to hear Y/N and Leah go at it.” 
“Us? You two literally did it under a lychee tree not too far from here.” you say firing back at Toni’s snarky remark.
“You told her about that?” Toni asks, looking at her girlfriend incredulously.
Shelby looks down at her hands, smiling coyly, “Maybe.” she says drawing out the ‘e’. 
“I guess if Leah’s cooking, I’ll be fine.” Toni replies with a shrug.
“I’d love to move in with you guys too!” Martha says, “But only if Marcus could come. And we play UNO at least twice a week.” 
“Is everyone awake?” Leah asks, staring at all the girl.
A murmur of yes’s fill the previous silence. 
“I want to get out of my house, you know? My parents aren’t the greatest either. Maybe we could be next door neighbors!” Fatin suggests, “If any of the couples need privacy, you ladies could hop over next door.”
“I don’t think it’ll be much better with all the guys you’ll bring home.” you joke and Faitn flips you off with a smile on her face.
Dot nods in agreement, “That would be so fun! Pizza nights and watching trashy reality TV every night.” 
“Roomates?” Fatin asks, extending her hand out to Dot.
“Roomates.” 
“Do you guys mind adding two more roommates?” Rachel asks and Nora nods smiling.
“Of course.” Dot says with a smile.
“Yay neighbors!!” Shelby yells and all of us laugh softly.
Toni playfully rolls her eyes, “I’m not escaping any of you ever, huh?” 
“Nope!” the rest of you girls say in somewhat unison, laughing together.
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anna-kendrick · 5 years ago
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Chloe regrets asking the moment it comes out of her mouth.
“Come home with me.”
It's not that she doesn't want to bring Beca—her wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year—home to visit her family, it's more the fact of how do you tell your wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year that you didn't actually tell your parents that you two were dating because they're homophobic.
Yeah, she has a slight problem.
Chloe wasn't even sure if Beca would even say yes to begin with. It's her third year at Barden, and her third thanksgiving that she'd be spending on campus. Rather than taking a trip back to Seattle to visit her mother, Beca had explained that she prefers her alone time in the comfort of her room, away from all the reminders of her rocky childhood. Chloe gets it.
But more selfishly than not wanting to leave her girlfriend back in Atlanta alone—aka with most of the Bellas and very much not alone—Chloe didn't want to spend a week away from Beca. That's what brings them to this very moment.
Beca’s clearly taken aback by the question, and Chloe finds the slight blush that's creeping across her cheeks absolutely adorable.
“You're serious?” This is her out, Chloe thinks. Make it sound less appealing, tell her the truth, or just completely take back the offer and—
“Totes serious.” Well fuck.
The smug grin that grows on Beca’s face is enough to vanish all her worries for the moment, a smile of her own breaking out on her face.
Beca pulls her in for a kiss, a version of a ‘yes’ in her own, sweet language.
When Beca mumbles an “I love you,” against her lips, Chloe feels her knees go weak.
***
She doesn't bring it up.
It's sitting in the back of her mind at all times in the weeks following, but she doesn't bring it up.
Beca's seemingly excited to go on this trip to Portland. She says she's never been, and Chloe finds herself looking forward to showing her all of the places where she grew up. She ignores it when Beca tells her that she's excited to see her parents again, and jokingly teases her that she thinks they like her better.
Beca really has no idea.
It's on their final descent when Chloe realizes her mistake. She feels Beca’s hand squeeze in her own, looking over to see her face wearing a soft smile—one of comfort and warmth—as if Beca could read her mind. She wishes it were true, it would make things so much easier.
But Beca simply mouths ‘you’re okay,’ and attributes Chloe’s nervous energy to flight anxiety. That’s truly the least of her worries right now.
She knows she's messed up. She goes over all the possible outcomes in her head as she watches other passengers deboard the plane. It's the one where she breaks Beca’s heart that sticks out the most to her.
Beca never lets go of her hand as they walk off the plane. Chloe can hear her speaking, probably talking about all the new music ideas she thought of on their long flight over, but she can't make out any of the words—she's too lost in her own mind.
“Chlo?” She’s snapped out of her non stop reel of scenarios when Beca stops in place, tilting her head in concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just tired.” She offers a smile, and it seems to satisfy Beca, who grins back and squeezes her hand gently before going to resume their trail to the baggage claim.
This is it. She has to do it.
“Bec, wait—” Her voice catches in her throat when Beca looks back, eyes full of questions and concern—so patient and so loving. She thinks she might throw up.
She lets go of Beca’s hand.
“They don't know you’re my girlfriend. Please don't tell them, I’m sorry.” Chloe takes a deep breath, fighting back her tears, because God forbid she cries in the middle of this damn airport.
One glance at Beca’s face and her heart feels like it's being crushed inside her chest. She can't say anything else, she can't even look at her.
“Um— Our bags, lets go get our bags.”
***
“Chloe?” She hears Beca’s whisper through the dark. She lays silently, debating whether or not she should answer, or pretend to be asleep and hope that Beca lets it go—she already knows what she's about to ask.
“Babe, I know you're awake.” She could insist that she is asleep—continue to hold her breath and fight back the tears that are already pricking from behind her eyelids—but she knows that Beca knows her better than anyone else, knows that Beca’s worried about her from the way that her hand now softly brushes through her hair.
“Chlo—”
“Yeah, I'm awake.” She rolls around to face her girlfriend, and feels the guilt swirl in her stomach immediately with just one look at the sad eyes in front of her.
She knew it was coming, but when Beca mumbles “Why didn't you tell them? I—I don't mean to pry, I’m sorry, I just—Are you okay?” tears immediately spill from her eyes, and she has to choke back the sob that threatens to come out.
It makes her heart clench to think about how far her and Beca have come since that day at the activities fair. It had taken so long to get Beca to open up to her, to even just accept a hug from her. It makes her sick to think about how disappointed her parents would be if they walked in on the two of them at this moment—their daughter wrapped up in her girlfriends arms as Beca continues to rub her back soothingly.
She feels so fucking guilty. A disappointment to both her family, and towards the woman she loves. She hates herself for it.
Beca's hands feel so soft against her cheeks as she holds them and lightly brushes her tears away. It's dark in the room, but she can still clearly make out Beca’s features in the moonlight that spills in from the window. Beca looks beautiful, she looks sad, but she’s beautiful.
“I didn't know how to tell you.” Her voice sounds unrecognizable to her own ears, it's raspy with tears, and she can hear the lie within her own speech. It's not that she didn't know how to, it's that she didn't want to.
How was she supposed to tell her best friend—her girlfriend—that her parents would hate her? How was she supposed to explain that yes, they had met her before and treated her like a second daughter, but as soon as they found out Beca was more than just a friend, they'd look at her with pure disgust and detest? How was she supposed to bring that up in a conversation where Beca’s telling her that her father has been putting more effort in, that he's happy for the two of them and that he’d like to have both over for dinner one night?
She's never wanted Beca to feel as if she was a secret, that their blooming relationship was something that Chloe was ashamed of. And now, Chloe doesn't even know why she invited Beca here in the first place, because while reserved, Beca’s the proudest of their relationship, and she can see it in her face right now how much she's hurting.
Chloe knows it's her fault.
“I'm not mad at you.” Beca's smiling softly at her—a sad smile—one of encouragement, or one to try to deter the situation because Beca knows that she’ll be upset if Beca shows that she’s upset, she doesn't know.
What she does know, is that Beca is one of the most patient and selfless people she's ever met. She knows she doesn't have to say anything, that she could simply ignore the situation entirely, tell Beca that she's tired, and it'd get dropped. She knows Beca wouldn't push her if she wasn't ready to tell her.
But she also knows that Beca deserves an answer.
“They would hate me if they found out, Bec.” She realizes that it's been a while since she admitted this dark secret of hers aloud. Not since her first year at Barden, when she confided in her good friend Aubrey Posen.
“It's not that I'm not proud to be with you, I promise. It's just that— I’m scared to lose them. I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose them either, Beca. I'm so sorry.”
She's crying again—she doesn't know if she ever really stopped—but Beca’s soft lips are pressed against hers; familiar, comforting, safe.
“You'd never lose me.” Beca whispers against her lips in between kisses, and it's like a blanket of warmth courses through Chloe’s body. It's still crazy to her how in the midst of feeling so sad and confused, Beca can make her feel so loved, make her thoughts that had just moments ago felt so jumbled, suddenly so clear.
“I will tell them.” She states, breaking apart from Beca’s kiss, nodding her head in affirmation.
“You don't have to.”
“I will. Eventually, I will. Maybe not this week, but one day I will.” And Beca’s smile in response is enough for her to know that she’s supported, that Beca will hold her hand through it all.
“I think you're really brave, Chloe.” She doesn't expect that as a response, and she's ready to open her mouth and argue against Beca’s words—tell her that she doesn't feel brave at all—but Beca beats her to it. “No, you really are, and it's one of the things I love most about you. Thank you for telling me.”
And one day Chloe hopes that her parents will understand, that they’ll see the side of Beca Mitchell that makes her world feel magical, bright and exciting. She hopes that maybe one day her father will walk her down the aisle as she marries her best friend, that they’ll spend time with their children and accept Beca’s love towards her in its truest and purest form.
Chloe knows she loves Beca—knows it with her entire heart, her entire being—and she knows no matter the circumstances that Beca will stand by her side and support her.
She thinks that’s enough for now.
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akampana · 4 years ago
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Can you tell us more about the harem au? 👉👈
I had to take some time on this ask bec my THOUGHGHGHGGHTS but ill probably make several posts on this and make a masterpost just to keep it all in one place.
But first things first, as a general rule: If they've met before, they retain their memories of each other. Furthermore, the Harem au follows the FZ->FSN->FGO continuity.
How did it start?
Messy. It was extremely messy.
The harem AU has a lot to do with the order that each member appeared in Chaldea, and it definitely wouldn't have happened if they hadn't come home in this order.
Also I have one Arturia at NP1 (AND BOI DID I TRY SO HARD TO GET ANOTHER ONE BUT ALAS, the world has decided to preserve the harem)
Note: there is a significant gap between Lancer Diarmuid and CasGil
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At the start, there was a large period of time when it was just Gilgamesh, Cú, Arturia and (Before the Fire)CasCu. And since she remembers the 5th HGW (FSN) she was most inclined to spend time with Lancer Cú over Gil.
Lancer Cú was essentially the first person to get close to her, but at the time she was still hung up on her first love and Cú wasn't too serious about his flirting. To him, she was a frequent sparring partner and a cute little outlet for teasing. That was it.
Gil tried (as far as his pride would allow), but it would be a long time before Arturia ever even gave him a chance.
Especially since the next person that arrived was Diarmuid. But not her Diarmuid. Saber Diarmuid.
More below
Saber Diarmuid was never shy about his affection for the King of Knights, but as much as she enjoyed his company, their memories differed. He, for one, could not understand why she always looked so guilty around him, while she did not understand why he had no reservations against her.
Saber Diarmuid came closest to starting something with the King of Knights' healing heart, but her feelings of guilt combined with the lingering love she still had for Shirou ultimately prevented them from moving forward. So, he instead got closer to someone who similarly had memories of a slightly different version of the King of Knights: (BtF)CasCu.
Then, there came Cú Alter
Because of her good relationship with the other Cú's, Arturia respects and protects Alter the same way, which pisses off the Mad King to no end because she treats him like a human. Plus, everything about her beliefs messes him up. He was forced to accept a crown of thorns and tried to raze the world to the ground knowing there couldn't be a crowd that would want him as king. She willingly accepted the burden of kingship and still ended up wanting to save her kingdom when her country turned their back to her.
This clash created a lot of tension between the two, but rather than drive them apart, it brought them closer. Close enough that Alter had the monopoly on her time. Close enough that even Master thought she would up with him after all.
Close enough to snap the other Cú's out of their stupor, because how could they lose Arturia to a corrupted version of themselves?
Saber Diarmuid was trying to spend as much time with her at this point, but suddenly master came out of the summoning room with the very person he thought could destroy all his chances.
Himself.
So now, everyone was faced with a problem. Even straight out of the summoning room, Lancer Diarmuid did not hesitate to pick up where he left off.
Gil had the disadvantage of his ill treatment of Saber during the 5th HGW, the Cú's only started bonding with her in Chaldea, but Diarmuid?
She and Diarmuid had a history that ran deep. It was obvious Lancer was full on in love with Arturia from the very start. There was no awkwardness, no transition, just Diarmuid fully taking advantage of being reunited with his Arturia.
He was the first to tell her he loved her.
And this is where Gilgamesh, who'd been slowly earning her trust be accompanying her on missions and speaking with her whenever he was able, finally snapped.
Gil could excuse her having friends. He also understood the unworthy mongrel's desire for her, because of course his dear queen would be so widely coveted.
But he was not going to stand by and watch as another mongrel took her away.
So he told her everything. How he really felt about her kingship from back in the 4th HGW, how he waited for the 5th, how bloody mad she drove him when she was away, how he felt.
And now Arturia was faced with a slew of emotions that would take time to unravel.
Gil and Diarmuid admitted their feelings. Saber Diarmuid and CasCu were beyond confused about theirs. Cú Alter was off somewhere dismissing every possibility that he was worthy of her love in the first place.
And Arturia...did not understand. She'd been so focused on the love she lost that the possibility of starting a new one was novel to her. Yes, she'd come to care for all these people so deeply, but she was hesitant to let herself feel anything more.
Maybe Shirou had gotten through to her because of his stubborn naivete, but she was still technically the same person who was accused of being unempathetic, who's to say how this would even go--
And Fujimaru Ritsuka was getting tired of their collective shit.
So like the good Master Ritsuka is, they basically ordered them to forget the drama and figure it all out. Clearly, everyone had issues they needed to settle with her, and clearly Arturia also had to figure things out on her own.
So, everyone hit the metaphorical restart button, installed a patience driver, and began again, this time with Arturia mostly aware of how they felt about her.
And that's how the Harem AU starts.
I'll continue with Part 2, including the others later on :>
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wellimaginethat · 5 years ago
Text
Never Stopped Loving You
Pairing: Matt Casey x (female) Reader
Requested?: Yes
Word Count: 2289
Author’s Note: YAY! My first Matt x Reader!
Trigger Warning(s): Jealousy, confrontation, break up, implied hooking up
Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters
Summary: Matt and Y/N used to date but ended things because she was leaving Chicago for work, however they never quit having feelings for each other and would hookup whenever she was in town if they happened to be single. Well, Matt is dating Hallie when Y/N comes to visit, and Hallie isn’t too thrilled with how they act together. She ends up finding a box filled with pictures of Y/N and letters she wrote to him, along with what appears to be an engagement ring, which causes problems. Her insecurities only intensify when Y/N announces that she’s moving back to Chicago.
Y/N = Your Name
Y/EC = Your Eye Color
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You and Matt Casey had a very strange relationship. You started out as best friends, then became romantically involved. The transition from friends to more was easy. It probably never would have happened if it hadn’t been for you kissing him after a movie night.
It had taken him completely off guard, and when you first pulled away, you were worried that he was going to be upset. That is, until he pulled you back into a kiss, a very passionate kiss.
When the two of you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, a silence between the two of you except for soft breaths.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” Matt breathed out, his blue eyes meeting your Y/EC ones.
You smiled some. “You should’ve, I was terrified to make the first move.”
“Well I’m glad you did, I’m not sure I ever would’ve gotten up the courage to kiss you.” Matt admitted softly.
After that, the two of you had a beautiful relationship that lasted a total of six months. Until you were offered a glorious job in your field of study in London. You knew you couldn’t turn it down. Matt knew you couldn’t turn it down. You knew it wasn’t fair to ask him to leave Chicago with you, and you also knew it wasn’t fair to keep him on the hook when you might never come back. So you ended things.
Once you spoke the words, breaking both his heart and yours, you kissed his cheek and left the apartment. You sobbed in your car, unable to drive off, and he got in the passenger seat and pulled you into a hug. He kissed the top of your head.
“I’ll never stop loving you.” Matt whispered into your hair. “And you will forever be my best friend, no matter what.”
You sobbed harder. “I can’t turn this down, Matt.” You cried into his chest.
“I know.” Matt whispered. “And I’d never ask you to. I understand that this is what you gotta do.”
So you left for London. You’d periodically come back to Chicago, and when you did, you spent the entire time with Matt. If either of you were in a relationship, it was strictly platonic. But if you both were single, it was a much friendlier time.
Usually, you both were single.
And then Hallie came into the picture.
You were respectful and didn’t say anything to her about you and Matt previously being an item, you were just his friend. You didn’t know why Matt never told her about the two of you having dated in the past, but you assumed it was because he didn’t want it to be awkward when you came to visit.
However, Hallie noticed how Matt acted around you. She could see the way he looked at you and it made her worry.
Matt continuously assured her that it was nothing, that he wouldn’t cheat on her.
She knew he wouldn’t cheat on her, but she was worried that he would leave her.
And then she found the box. It was an old boot box that he kept on the top shelf of his closet, pushed back in a corner so that no one would find it unless they went looking.
Hallie knew she had no right snooping, but his relationship with you just worried her to no end. She was waiting for him to get out of the shower so that way they could go out and she had started looking around, she didn’t really know what exactly she was looking for, just something to either ease her worries or solidify them.
Matt found her sitting on his bed, box in her lap and her hunched over slightly, snooping through the contents. He cleared his throat to get her attention.
Hallie jumped up a little and looked at him, her eyes locking onto his. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked him, clearing her throat and wiping at her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me that you used to date? That you were planning on marrying her?”
“I never-” Matt started only to stop when she held up the little velvet box.
“You had a ring.” Hallie’s voice was hollow as she stared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you constantly tell me that I had nothing to worry about?”
“Because you don’t.” Matt told her, going over and taking a seat next to her. He took the box off her lap and gingerly set it on the bed behind them. “I’m with you.”
“And still obviously in love with her.” Hallie rolled her eyes.
Matt shook his head.
“Tell me one thing.” Hallie said and he nodded. “If she were to move back, who would you choose? Me or her?”
Matt didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought.” Hallie went to stand up and walk out, Matt caught her by the wrist gently. She looked back at him, tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about us.” Matt spoke quietly, calmly as he stood up. He placed his hands on her shoulders gently. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
Hallie huffed a laugh. “You didn’t want me to worry.” She shook her head. “Did you ever think that if I did find out this would happen?”
“I’m sorry.” Matt told her again, sighing softly. “I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should have.” Hallie answered before walking out.
Things between them were tense after that, despite the fact that Matt was trying to fix things between them.
And then you came to visit again. You had no idea that Hallie knew about yours and Matt’s past, so once again you played the best friend role. You couldn’t understand why she was being cold to you until Matt told you when you finally had a split second alone.
“She found out about us.” Was all Matt told you.
You understood immediately. So when Matt was in the bathroom, you looked at her. “Hallie. I want you to know that I would never do anything to come between you and Matt.” You were trying to be nice, trying to be sympathetic. “We’ve been broken up for years now, long before the two of you got together. We agreed to be friends because we’ve been friends for years and didn’t want to lose that.”
Hallie nodded, although her demeanor didn’t change.
You sighed. “Matt and I are always going to be friends, and I don’t want him to feel like he has to choose between me and his girlfriend. I don’t want to lose him.”
Hallie scoffed. “Like he’d ever choose me over you.”
The conversation was cut short by Matt walking into the room and smiling at the two of you, sincerely hoping that he was misreading the situation and that there wasn’t as much tension in the room as he thought there was.
“So how long are you in Chicago?” Matt asked you after a few moments.
“For a while.” You told him. “I was offered a new job here in Chicago.”
Matt’s brows raised in surprise. “So you’re moving back?”
You could see how upset Hallie was, but you couldn’t change that you had already accepted the job offer. “Well I’ve been wanting to come home for a while now, so I jumped at the offer of a job here.”
Matt smiled wide. “That’s great.” He said, but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite understand.
When you left, you went back to your hotel room and sat there for a long time replaying the night in your head, you had wanted to move back to Chicago since you left, but you couldn’t turn down the amazing offer all those years ago, it was the best way to get your foot in the door in your line of work. 
You thought about your conversation with Hallie, how she implied that Matt would choose you over her, you wondered if that held any truth. You hated to admit it, but you wished he would. Not because you wished anything bad against Hallie, but because you loved him. You hated that. You hated being the kind of person to wish for something like that. You wanted Matt happy over everything else, even if that wasn’t with you. It’s not like you’d ever purposely do something to split them up, and that wasn’t even why you’d accepted the job in Chicago, you actually wouldn’t have if you had known. You weren’t that kind of person.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knocking on the door. You got up to answer it and, looking through the peephole, were surprised to see it was Hallie. You pulled the door open with a confused frown on your face. “Hallie?”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t do anything to come in between us?” Hallie asked and you could hear the heartbreak in her voice, causing you to feel even more guilty.
“I didn’t know when I accepted the job.” You told her, letting her come in the room. “I’m sorry, I honestly didn’t know. I thought he was over me.”
Hallie scoffed again and shook her head. “You’re like the one that got away, the one he’ll never get over.” She was crying now. “I don’t stand a chance.”
You shook your head some, trying to find the right words to say.
“Save it.” Hallie shook her head and before you knew it, she was walking out.
“Hallie.” You went to follow her but then decided to just let her go.
You avoided Matt after that, you didn’t want to be the cause of their break up. So you avoided him and avoided him and continued to avoid him.
That is until he showed up at your new apartment six months later.
You didn’t even know how he got your address. “Matt?”
He didn’t even say anything, just kissed you.
You pulled away, pushing at his chest and taking a step away from him, shaking your head. “No.”
Matt was shocked and hurt.
“You’re with Hallie.” You stated.
Matt shook his head. “No, I’m not.” He told you, causing you to look at him. “She broke up with me months ago.”
“Because of me.” You hated what you were feeling right now, guilt and heartbreak.
“She said she didn’t want to be in the way of true love.” Matt told you. “I tried denying it, I tried telling her that I wanted her, but she didn’t believe me and I realized that she was right.”
You shook your head, tears in your eyes. “I can’t be with you, Matt.” You said quietly.
His face fell even more than it had, not able to hide the hurt and heartbreak he was feeling. “Why not?” He asked quietly.
“Because you should be with her.” You stated, tears sliding down your cheeks.
Matt shook his head. “Our relationship was falling apart before you came back.” He told you softly. “We were never going to work, no matter what.”
You stared at him, silent, for a long moment, trying to figure out if what he was saying was true.
Matt took a step toward you. “I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.” He said softly. “And even if you didn’t move back to Chicago, that wouldn’t have changed.”
You swallowed hard.
“I would’ve been here sooner but it took me a while to find you.” Matt said quietly. “You’ve been avoiding me, afterall.”
You nodded, swallowing hard again. “Uh-huh, I have.” You said quietly, looking away from him. “Because I was afraid she was right. She said that you’d choose me over her, so I was trying to remove myself from the situation.”
Matt nodded slowly. “And are you still going to avoid me?”
“I don’t think I can.” You admitted quietly. “I never stopped loving you, Matt.”
“And I never stopped loving you either.” Matt said softly, his hands moving to cup your face, causing you to finally look at him again.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you looked at him.
“I want you and only you.” Matt told you softly. “I never stopped wanting you.”
“Matt.” You started softly.
“Let me finish.” Matt said softly, his eyes locking on yours. “I could never picture myself spending my life with anyone else, no matter how hard I tried. And I think you being back is the perfect time for our second chance.”
You were quiet, watching him as he spoke. “Do you think we’d still be together if I never left?”
He was taken back by your question but quickly nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He paused. “Do you?”
You nodded some. “Yeah. I always wondered that though, if we’d still be together. You have no idea how many times I imagined what our life would be like if I had stayed in Chicago instead of moving to London.”
“I know what you mean.” Matt said softly. “I always wondered that too.” He wondered if you would have said yes when he proposed, if the two of you would be married, if you’d be working on a family by now. There were a lot of ifs.
The two of you were quiet, just standing there. He was still cupping your face, your hands were on his chest. Neither of you were looking at the other.
“Stay.” He whispered. “Forever, please.”
You finally look at him to see him looking at you.
“I don’t want to lose you again.” Matt whispered.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered back.
Matt leaned in to kiss you again, and this time you didn’t pull away.
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fuckitup-in-style · 5 years ago
Text
JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS!
Hey guys, so I just finished watching JATP and I am absolutely obsessed with it! The songs, the characters, the plot - it’s just beautiful how the creators have brought to life this light, whimsical but also very heartfelt and warm show and I am so glad to see the wonderful reception from the fandom here on Tumblr and other social media outlets because the more reception, the more likely the show will come back for season 2 - which, I think we can all agree is something we all want to see (OH, and the TOURRRR)
But I couldn’t help but notice that there is some budding tension in the fandom concerning the controversy over shipping the characters Julie Molina and Luke Patterson, which I have noticed makes a lot of people uncomfortable (and I understand).
But I got some red flags when I saw words like predatory and sickening were labelled to the ship, and specifically to Luke as a character (and the casting team). I also noticed people attacking others for shipping Luke and Julie and I felt like I needed to say something.
So, as you probably can tell, I ship Juke or Jukebox as some people have started to call them (which I think is really cute). I only ship Juke, I do not under any circumstances ship the actors because 1) I dont ship actors as a principal because too many times have actors and the relationships they have held with others in their life been damaged because of people taking the chemistry they demonstrate with their onscreen relationship out of context 2) Maddy is underaged and I don’t ship child actors at all especially with 3) their co-actors, especially if they’re over 18 like Charlie is because 4) they have a very controversial age gap.
Now that I have gotten that out of the road, I was to explain why I ship Juke - and I can’t believe I feel so anxious about defending myself for wanting to see the relationship/friendship explored with Julie and Luke over the seasons but I understand. 
1. The characters themselves are 2 years apart. It’s an interracial relationship and I love the representation with Juke as well as with Willex. Maddy has promoted and publicly shipped the idea of Julie and Luke as a couple on social media and I think that if she was okay with it, than it shouldn’t be a problem (we’re the same age and i could see how, as a actress who would have the emotional and mental capacity to consent to acting out romantic scenes, it would be ok - keep in mind, it is a G-PG teens show so it would be limited to kissing. Wishing for anything beyond that to be presented as canon is wrong and I can admit that without any shame or regret). Julie canonically has a crush on Luke and Luke has canonically confirmed strong feelings/ chemistry with and for Julie. I love seeing this demonstrated when they are singing, songwritng, performing and dancing and even during really soft or playful moments like Unsaid Emily and Edge of Great and would like to see more of these really powerful moments between the two characters as the show progresses.
2. Be that as it may, I don’t want the characters to get together in the second season. I still believe that this show is primarily about Julie and the Phantoms, a band of friends consisting of a girl rediscovering her love and passion for music and continuing to do what she loves in her mom’s memory and three boys who died before they could make their dreams come true. The Orpheum was their first step to becoming legends and I don’t believe that’s over yet.
3. I also love the idea that Charlie and Maddy both have implied that they want Luke and Julie to build a strong, formidable friendship in the show before they even consider acting on any romantic notions and I support this and would look forward to seeing it! It would be great to see how their friendship, and she friendship she has with Alex and Reggie, grows and evolves over the show. Some people might argue that this will be boring and would slow the seemingly fast progress of the bond that has been shaped but I don’t think so.
There is so many subplots for the show to explore based off of what the show creators gave us in season 1:
- The obvious, Caleb possessing Nick. I have seen the Juke shippers jump right onto this one and saying how Caleb (as Nick) trying to get closer and make moves on Julie would make Luke jealous but I think we have seen a bit of that already from when Luke first interacted (kinda) with Nick when he and Julie were talking by the lockers. I think that the Caleb subplot would not only be a good idea to show how Luke will be conflicted with how he feels about it, but it would also show how Julie might be conflicted with her own feelings if she sees Nick presenting a different attitude. As to Caleb’s true motives, this presents the opportunity for some advenutre kind tropes where Julie and the Phantoms have to stop Caleb and save Nick from possession. Both Caleb and Nick have demonstrated an affintiy for performing (Nick with guitar and Caleb with singing) so that will be interesting to see. Also Willie is still under Caleb’s thumb so that will cause some angst and tension between himself and Alex.
- Willie and Alex’s relationship has a chance to develop. The last time they saw each other, Willie thought that Alex was crossing over so I think it will be super cute to see their reunion. (Boo Boo Stewart is a cutie) so I’m interested in seeing him and the Phantoms interact. Also - I kind of want to see him and Julie meet. I want to see if Julie’s ability to see ghosts extends to all ghosts or just the boys (this can relate back to the Phantoms connection to her mother and that can be explored).
- I want Reggie and Alex’s backgrounds to be developed and explored with music and with their friends. They didnt get much bonding moments with her and I want to see their friendship with Julie grow like Julie and Alex talking about relationships and Willie and Julie and Reggie talking about how he sees Ray as a father figure and how this might relate back to his own family history. 
- Carlos knows about the boys being ghosts and I want to see how that will play into everything. I know that Reggie has shown to be playful and indulgent in his ‘Ghost Hunting’ hobby so maybe they can have some fun playing pranks on Aunt Victoria. 
- I want to see Flynn’s character become more involved in the Phantoms and helping Julie reach her dreams but I also want Flynn’s dreams to be introduced and to be explored because she is such a fun and relatable character - and her and Julie’s friendship is pure - and she deserves to have a storyline independent of that or dominant and explored.
- I want more flashbacks too of Carrie and Julie’s friendship, of the boys when they were still alive, of Julie’s mom and how her connection with Sunset Curve was forged. I just think that would be super cool to see.
- Bobby has now seen the boys perform with Julie, finally achieving their dream performance at the Orpheum so I wonder how that will go on. I want to see the boys confront him and I want to see like some real shit going down on why and how he could cheat them out of their music. They were his friends and they died and he stole their dreams, their musics, their very souls laid bare on paper and I feel like that’s some good angst.
- Like I said before, it’s a show about Julie and the Phantoms and they want to make it big. After the Orpheum, it will be interesting to see them go on to play at other venues, tackle getting involved in the music industry and making more songs. I WANT MORE SONGSSS BRUH.
- Guys, if Julie and the Phantoms are going to become stars sometime in the show, they’ll be pretty famous. Like maybe they’re going to be on TV and they’re supposed to be dead and what happens if Luke’s parents see him like Bobby did? WHat will ahppen then?!
- As for romantic relationships (besides Juke and Willex) I want to see Reggie have a love interest or maybe even come out as Bi. That would be so cool! As a fellow bisexual, I think that would demonstrate a lot of representation to not only have a openly gay character (maybe two bec Willie’s sexuality hasn’t been confirmed yet but fingers crossed) but also a bi character. Maybe another ghost ? I want to see more ghosttss.
As for how I want Julie and Luke’s relationships to be explored:
- MORE MUSICCCCCC (because I feel the safetest bet right now considering, I feel everyone agrees that their music chemistry is A+ and gives their performances some fire😉)
- Some shenanagins with them and the rest of the Phantoms (+ Flynn) like them being actual teenagers (the boys were 17 when they died and I think that’s pretty sad as a 17 year old) and showing up at school and Alex dancing with Carrie when she throws Dirty Candy performances. I think it would be funny if the two of them ever met.
- Luke making fun of Nick (jealoussyyy) and him and Julie bickering like they always do. Maybe Flynn and the boys making fun of them both. Flynn will definently want to protect her friend after seeing what a wreck she was before the performance when she thought the boys might have crossed over or gotten destroyed by Caleb’s curse, so she might convince Julie to keep her distance like in ‘Edge of Great’. Alex and Reggie will make fun of Luke def. No questions. It’s what they do best but they love each other.
- Guys, they can’t just ignore Perfect Harmony like - come on. Like, if Luke goes snooping inside Julie’s dream box (because, let’s face it, it’s sitting right there and it’s full of LYRICS people and he loves MUSIC and he loves JULIE’S MUSIC and - yeah, come on.) I also think it would be funny to see more of Julie saying Luke’s name by accident or daydreaming because I thought - ACTUAL TEENAGE GIRL REPRESENTATION!
- More fighting because her and Luke have such strong, dominant personalities and I can see them clashing in the future over the direction they want the band to go in and, more or less, petty teenage stuff.
- Possibly being more diverse with their style of music like in Perfect Harmony and Unsaid Emily. Maybe exploring some really deep and emotional lyrics and changing it up with their performance (although, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE THAT BIT WHERE JULIE DOES THAT HIGH NOTE AT THE START OF THE SONG AND THAN THE BOYS JUST ROCK IN LIKE LEGENDS AND - ) but yeah, I want to cry again like I did in Unsaid Emily so. 
Anyway, feel free to add what you guys most look forward to but the whole point of this was I want this fandom to be a fun, free and safe environment. So don’t ship actors, I don’t support sexualizing child actors and don’t expect Luke or Julie’s relationship to go past the soft, chaste, fluffy kisses you see at 16/17 because it is a kids show and once again because Maddy is underage and her and Charlie’s age gap is controversial. But shipping Juke isn’t predatory because Luke isn’t a predator, the character is 17, 1-2 years older than Julie. It’s a kids show and it’s very tender, very pure and very sweet. We have seen nothing to contradict this so don’t make it something it’s not.
Anyway that’s my two cents so don’t @ me to yell at me, okay?
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angelofthequeers · 6 years ago
Text
Happy Holmium
Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.
My @mlsecretsanta gift for @wedontdeservenino! I hope you enjoy! ❤️💚
AO3 link
“Happy Holmium, Marinette!”
The mere sight of Adrien doesn’t make Marinette want to die now after months of shifting her focus to being his friend over asking him out, but he can’t just look over his shoulder and wave like that and expect her to be okay with –
Wait. What?
“Happy what?” Marinette says.
“Don’t encourage him,” Nino groans. “He’s so proud of it, like he thinks he deserves a freaking award for it.”
“Happy Holmium!” Adrien grins like the cat that got the cream. “Get it? Ho? For holmium? Ho, ho, ho? I could go with Merry Chromium if you prefer!” he adds when Marinette and Alya join Nino in groaning and thumping their heads on the desk.
“I can’t believe I want to marry you,” Marinette mumbles into the desktop.
“Huh?” Adrien says. Marinette lets out a small shriek and whips her head up.
“Nothing!” she cries, waving her hands around and praying to whoever might be listening that her face isn’t turning as scarlet as her alter-ego’s suit.
“Smooth,” Alya snickers, also lifting her head.
“Attention, class!” Ms Bustier calls. “I know it's the final class of the day and your attention may be drifting elsewhere, but I'd like it if you could at least listen to this. Then you can go back to pretending to listen while I pretend to believe you.”
Snickers are heard all around the room, especially when Ms Bustier looks at Kim and Nathaniel. Nathaniel laughs sheepishly, while Kim just gives an impish grin and crosses his arms.
“I thought that since this is your last Christmas with me before you all go to lycée, we could do something a little fun,” Ms Bustier says. “A Secret Santa!”
Excited murmuring breaks out across the room. Except for Adrien, who raises his hand and says, “Um, what’s a Secret Santa?”
“Oh, you poor, sheltered boy,” Chloé drawls, and Sabrina snickers. It’s really been quite astonishing to watch Chloé’s slow, heel-dragging progress from a horrific jerk into a jerk with a heart of gold since being given a second chance with the Bee Miraculous. Marinette suspects that it’s mostly to do with Pollen’s influence pushing her to be a better person outside the mask as well as behind it, but if a kwami’s guidance means continued respite from Chloé’s bullying, Marinette’s not exactly going to complain.
“Now, now, Chloé,” Ms Bustier chides. “Adrien, a Secret Santa is where you draw a random name and must give a gift to that person. I’m giving you all until the last day of term to finalise your gifts, in case anyone wants to get creative, but you must participate. I thought it would be a nice reminder of the bonds you’ve all forged before you leave for lycée.”
“Can we give gifts to people other than our Secret Santa?” Lila pipes up. “Even if I don’t get Adrien, I still have the perfect gift for him. I’m sure you’ll love it, Adrien!”
“Aww!” Rose coos. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Lila!”
Marinette meets Adrien’s gaze and rolls her eyes. Her cheeks grow warm when he immediately hides his mouth behind his hand, no doubt concealing the grin he can’t hold back. Meanwhile, Alya mutters something that sounds vaguely like, “Can’t believe I ever fell for her bull.”
“Of course you can, Lila,” Ms Bustier says. “But your focus must be on the recipient that you draw, otherwise it wouldn’t be fair to them.”
“Oh, of course!” Lila says. “I promise!”
“Right.” Ms Bustier picks up the small box on her desk and shakes it. The sound of rustling fills the air. “When I call on you, come and draw a name from the box. And no re-drawing! That’s not in the spirit of Christmas. Chloé, you first.”
It’s impossible to tell who Chloé had gotten, since she gives no visible reaction, so Marinette can only conclude that she hadn’t gotten Lila or Adrien, since she’d be utterly disgusted or utterly delighted respectively. Next up is Sabrina, then Adrien, and Marinette’s stomach jolts because what if Adrien draws her name? What kind of present would he get her? Oh, she’d die if she got a gift from Adrien –
“Marinette!” Ms Bustier says loudly. Marinette jumps and squeaks and stumbles to the front of the class, ignoring the way Alya’s very pointed look is scorching the back of her neck. She dips her hand into the box, rummages for a second, pulls out a neatly-folded piece of paper, and unfolds it to reveal…Adrien Agreste.
No. Way. She gets to be Adrien’s Secret Santa! Oh, this is perfect! She’ll give him the perfect gift, and he’ll declare his undying love for her, and they’ll run away to an island and get married and have three kids and a hamster –
“Is there a problem, Marinette?” Ms Bustier says.
“N-No! Sorry!” Marinette babbles and rushes back to her seat. Why is she getting so carried away? She hasn’t been like this around Adrien for ages!
“Nice!” Alya hisses with a wide grin when she returns from picking her name and they show each other who they’d drawn. Alya had gotten Rose, which should be easy enough, considering that Rose likes anything pink and flowery and nice-smelling. “What are you gonna get him?”
“I don’t know!” Marinette says. “And after that Christmas disaster last year, I don’t wanna mess this up!”
Alya pats her on the back. “You’ll think of something, girl. You always do.”
Finding the perfect gift for Adrien is all Marinette can think about for the whole afternoon, to the point where Alya eventually shakes her head in disgust and gives up on trying to engage Marinette in conversation at all. It’s not until she’s home and scribbling ideas down in one of her notebooks that she finally speaks for the first time since learning that Adrien is her recipient.
“Rubbish! Rubbish, rubbish, rubbish!” She tears the page out of her notebook and scrunches it up, then throws it across the room. “None of this is good enough for him!”
“You’re overthinking things, Marinette,” Tikki says. “Your gift doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to have love poured into it. Like the scarf you made for him!”
“Yeah and look how well that turned out.” Marinette drops her notebook and buries her face in her hands with a groan.
“It did turn out well,” Tikki says patiently. Well, if one happens to be a god of however many thousands of years, patience is probably a necessity for one’s mental survival. “Adrien loved it because it was handmade and full of love. The only reason he didn’t know it was from you was because your signature somehow got lost. But this time, you’re giving the gift to him in person, so he’ll know it’s from you!”
“True. True. Okay…” Marinette takes a deep breath and looks back down at her notebook. “I can do this. I can – no, I can’t! I’m gonna screw this up and he’ll never want to be my friend again!”
“Would you be freaking out like this if it was anyone else?” Tikki says.
“No!” Marinette says. “But Adrien is…how many good gifts does he get, Tikki? Remember last year? His father only let us go to his house after he ran away. I have to make this gift perfect for him!”
“Marinette!” Tikki rests her tiny hands on Marinette’s cheeks. “Adrien would be happy if you gave him a sock, so long as there was love put into it! Maybe you should take a break from this.”
“But I can’t! I have –”
“– three weeks to design and create your gift. One night won’t be disastrous. If you take a step back and clear your head, you can come back with fresh eyes and maybe think of something extraordinary!”
Marinette takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Right. You’re right. It’s just like artist’s block when I’m designing. Tikki, if we headed for patrol a little earlier, would you mind –?”
“Not at all, Marinette! Ready when you are!”
“Tikki, spots on!”
Although it’s not snowing, the Parisian night air is freezing enough to bite as Ladybug leaps and hops across the rooftops towards the Eiffel Tower. By the time she arrives and swings up to the top, her face is chilly and stinging and her breath billows out in front of her as though she’s a ladybug-scaled dragon.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Chat Noir grins from his perch on the edge of the Tower’s tip. Ladybug just rolls her eyes and plops down next to him, ignoring the heat radiating from his damn cat body because there’s no way she’s going to give him the satisfaction of cuddling up to him for warmth.
“Ha, ha,” Ladybug drawls.
“Don’t you mean Happy Holmium?” Chat Noir says, and Ladybug freezes. “Get it? Holmium?”
“Ho, ho,” she breathes as Ladybug.exe starts to crash. Chat Noir beams – no, it’s Adrien, it’s Adrien behind that mask, how did she never see it before…but what are the chances of Adrien being Chat? Then again, what are the chances that both are spouting the exact same joke?
And it’s not like they don’t look similar. Blond hair, green eyes…she’d just always assumed that they were green because of the Miraculous, like hers had been as Lady Noire, but if they’re naturally green…
“Milady?” Chat Noir says. Ladybug jumps and squeaks.
“Fine! I’m fine!” she babbles. “I guess all I want for Christmas is yttrium, oxygen, and uranium!”
Oh my god. Did I really just say that to Adrien?
Chat Noir blinks and frowns, then snorts and slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “Why, bugaboo, if you wanted me for Christmas, all you had to do was ask,” he says. “We have real chemistree, don’t you think?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Ladybug says. It’s Chat Noir. Adrien, yes, but it’s Chat Noir, her dorky partner. And besides, she hasn’t been a disaster around Adrien for a while now, so she’s not going to slide right back into turning into one in his presence, thank you very much. Or his presents, as he would say. “You’ll have to try harder than that to make me helium.”
“He, he. Really?” Chat Noir raises an eyebrow. “Gotta step up your game.”
Ladybug sniffs and tosses her hair. “Na. Don’t be sodium salty.”
“But milady, you make my heart undergo an exothermic reaction!” Chat Noir clasps at his heart and leans against Ladybug, who pushes him away out of sheer habit rather than because she wants to. Since he’s super warm. That’s it.
“Your heart is nothing but nitrogen, oxygen, and iridium,” Ladybug says. Chat Noir pouts.
“Don’t we have patrol, milady?” he says.
“Oh, so you can start it, but you can’t take the reaction?” Ladybug smirks, climbing to her feet. She helps Chat Noir up, winks, and says, “Well, at least I’m well-prepared for the Chemistry test on Friday.”
“If you ever need my tutoring services in future, all you have to do is ask,” Chat Noir says with his usual roguish grin. Hmm. Nice recovery.
“I’ll be sure to pass that on to the five-year-olds,” Ladybug says and reaches out to flick his bell. Then she’s off, swinging away from the Eiffel Tower before Chat Noir can recover his wits, trying not to think about the fact that she’d just done that to Adrien because if she lets her brain think about that little fact, she’ll splat on the streets below.
But hey, at least now she knows exactly what gift to give to Adrien for the Secret Santa!
.
“Alright, class!” Ms Bustier claps her hands, and everyone quiets down and turns to face the front. “I hope you’ve all got your gifts prepared, because today is Secret Santa day!”
Adrien’s classmates start to cheer, but Adrien’s too busy bouncing in his seat with anticipation to find out who his Secret Santa is. Is it Nino? Or Marinette? Or, heck, even Chloé? Just so long as it’s not Lila. Thank god she hadn’t been his Secret Santa recipient because after all the crap she’s pulled, no way could he make himself put good effort into getting her a gift.
“When I draw out your name, come to the front of the class,” Ms Bustier says, shaking her little box of names from when their recipients had been announced. “Then your Secret Santa will step forward and give their gift.” She reaches into the box, pulls out a slip of paper, unfolds it, and says, “Kim!”
“Aw, yeah!” Kim bursts out of his seat and skids to a halt next to Ms Bustier, who looks like she’s trying her best to be Teacherly Strict and not laugh at his antics. “C’mon, who got me?”
“Thankfully, not me!” Alix calls, and the class snickers at her quip. Kim beams and flips her off.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Ms Bustier says. “Who was Kim’s Secret Santa?”
After a moment, there’s the sound of someone sliding out of their seat from the back of the class. Adrien tries his very hardest not to slump in relief when he turns and sees that it’s Lila making her way to the front of the class with a neatly-wrapped red present. He tries. But he’s not sure how successful he is, especially at the plastic quality of her smile when she passes him.
“Buon Natale, Kim!” Lila chirps, handing over her gift. Kim whoops and tears the paper off to reveal a shoebox. “I’m so sorry, I would’ve loved to get you an autograph from –”
“Are you kidding?” Kim crows as he yanks the lid off the box. “New sneakers! Thanks, Lila, you’re the best!”
Adrien bites down on his lip to smother his laughter when Kim pulls Lila in for what looks like a super tight one-armed hug and she’s forced to smile brightly and grit out something about it being no trouble at all. Soon enough, Kim and Lila are returning to their seats, and Adrien carefully doesn’t look at Lila so that he doesn’t lose the battle against his laughter.
“Time for our next recipient!” Ms Bustier pulls out another name. “Nathaniel!”
Nathaniel’s Secret Santa turns out to be Juleka, who gifts him a small framed painting in dark colours. Although her artistry isn’t the best, Nathaniel’s bouncing on the spot as he throws his arms around Juleka, and Adrien can’t help but smile at the sight. Both Nathaniel and Juleka understand what it means to be creative from the heart, after all, even if their mediums differ.
Nino’s up next, and his gift from Max is a track of songs that Markov had helped Max create “based on the statistics of your music preferences”. Mylène’s gift from Rose is a pretty, handmade yellow rose pin (“because yellow roses mean friendship!”), and she beams and immediately clips it to her sweater next to her Ladybug pin. Then it’s Marinette’s turn to receive her Secret Santa gift from Ivan, which turns out to be a little black cat plushie with bright green eyes, green paw pads, and a bell attached to its neck.
“I know you like Chat Noir,” Ivan mumbles, scratching the back of his head. “So, I thought…well, I’ve got a friend who makes plushies, and she agreed to make that one for you…”
“It’s perfect!” Marinette stands on her tiptoes to kiss Ivan on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Ivan! I can’t believe it’s handmade!”
Marinette…likes Chat Noir? Enough to receive a handmade plushie based on him? Well, obviously, considering the whole Weredad incident, but…Adrien wasn’t aware that she still felt so strongly about him. He swallows and looks away, otherwise the pure joy on Marinette’s face will do leave him with some very unwelcome thoughts, considering that he’s supposed to be in love with Ladybug.
Wait. Supposed to be? He is in love with Ladybug!
“Adrien!” Ms Bustier says.
“Present!” Adrien blurts out. Everyone else snickers.
“Yes, Adrien, come and receive your present,” says a clearly-amused Ms Bustier. Adrien undertakes the walk of shame with warm cheeks, but the spring is back in his step in no time because now he gets to find out who his Secret Santa is! And what they’re going to give him! Every gift except for Lila’s has been handmade so far, and his gift for Chloé is a friendship bracelet in the colours of Queen Bee, so he can only imagine what his gift will be! “Okay, who was Adrien’s Secret Santa?”
Adrien’s eyes, attuned to the slightest of movements, jump to the dark-haired girl slipping out of her seat with a lumpy red package in her hands. Marinette! His Secret Santa is Marinette! How did he get so lucky? She’s so sweet and talented and amazing, so any gift from her is going to have love poured into it to the seams!
“Happy Christmas, Adrien,” Marinette says with pink cheeks as she hands over her gift, which is soft and squishy. Adrien tries not to look too eager as he runs his finger along the tape and tears the paper off to reveal…a red jacket with black spots? A Ladybug jacket?
“How did you know I liked Ladybug?” Adrien blurts out. Marinette’s pink cheeks darken to crimson.
“Just a lucky guess!” she says. “There’s more if you unfold it!”
There’s a card nestled in the jacket, so Adrien carefully sets it on Ms Bustier’s desk and then unfolds the jacket, and his breath catches in his throat. On the back, in black lettering, is stitched Happy Holmium! with a sprig of holly berries, except that the red berries have black ladybug spots and little black cat paws have been embroidered through the green holly leaves.
“Seriously?” Nino groans when Adrien holds the jacket up. “You’re encouraging that joke?”
“It wasn’t bad,” Marinette argues.
“Finally, someone who appreciates my dashing wit!” Adrien says. He shrugs off his black designer jacket and slips on Marinette’s jacket as fast as he physically can, running his hands over the fleecy material with an undoubtedly goofy grin on his face. “You made me a jacket!”
“Yeah!” Marinette nods rapidly. “Um…you should probably read your card.”
Inside the envelope Adrien had set on Ms Bustier’s desk is a Christmas card with a photo of Ladybug on the front, no doubt from Alya’s extensive stash. But it’s what’s inside the card that makes Adrien’s breath catch in his throat:
Dear Adrien,
Happy Holmium! You’re one of my dearest friends and I’m so lucky to have you in my life, especially since I’d say we have real chemistree. You make my heart undergo an exothermic reaction and all I want for Christmas is yttrium, oxygen, and uranium, even if your heart is nitrogen, oxygen, and iridium. At least I’m not sodium salty over puns. You’ll have to try harder to make me helium next time.
Love,
Marinette
Exothermic reaction? Chemistree? Y-O-U and N-O-Ir? Sodium salty and helium? But…how? There’s only one person who knows that all those specific jokes had passed between him and…Ladybug.
“No way,” he breathes. Her cheeks now dark scarlet, Marinette looks down at the ground, twisting the toe of her boot against the wooden floor. Dark pigtails, bright blue eyes…kind, sweet, warm, amazing…she’s been in front of him the whole time! “You – I don’t –”
“Can we hurry this up?” Alix complains. “Some of us have gifts to get, y’know! And give,” she hastily adds when Ms Bustier looks at her.
Adrien reaches out, almost in a daze, and runs his fingers along Marinette’s cheek and down to her chin, giving her just enough of a nudge to raise her head. Those bluebell eyes punch him in the gut, leaving him breathless and unable to breathe, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s cupping her face and leaning in and the class is audibly holding their breaths.
“Milady?” he murmurs against her mouth, so quiet that only the two of them can hear. Marinette gives him a soft little smile and at that moment, Adrien wonders how the hell he’s never realised that she’s Ladybug, because she’s just as radiant.
“You should be careful who you joke with, kitty,” Marinette replies. “Hearing the same joke again is old.”
Adrien huffs out a laugh, which Marinette mirrors, her eyes crinkling and lighting up as she laughs too. His eyes dart to her lips, a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed as she also chances a peek at his mouth. But just as Adrien’s leaning in –
“Excuse me, Ms Bustier, but Alix is right!” Lila’s sickly-sweet voice rings clear in the classroom, and Adrien jumps away from Marinette and scratches the back of his head with a little laugh. “We really should get through the rest of the Secret Santas!”
“Aww, come on, Lila!” Rose says. “We’ve been waiting so long for this to happen!”
“It’s okay,” Adrien says. He reaches out to take Marinette’s hand, and she flushes as red as her alter-ego’s suit and looks away while biting her lip. “We can finish this later. Right, princess?”
“Aww!” all the girls coo, apart from Lila.
“Y-Yeah,” Marinette stammers. “Sorry, we’re just holding the whole class up.”
“Don’t apologise,” Ms Bustier says with a wide grin and another name in her hand. “It’s wonderful to see such love at Christmas! Rose, you’re up next! Although I doubt anyone can outdo Adrien and Marinette here.”
Christmas card and original jacket in hand, Adrien heads back to his seat with Marinette behind him, squeezing past Rose on her way to the front. As Rose squeals over the miniature notebook of pressed flowers from Alya, Adrien turns in his seat and catches Marinette’s eye, winking when she finally looks at him. She blushes and looks down, and although Adrien wishes he could pull out the old Chat Noir charm and delight in the fact that his lady really does love him back, they can do that later. After all, they’ve got all the time in the world now.
“Happy Holmium, Adrien!” Marinette says with a little giggle that lights up his world. Adrien beams back.
“Happy Holmium, Marinette,” he says.
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fckyeahdaisukekambe · 5 years ago
Text
[ROUGH ENG TRANS] FUGOU KEIJI NOVEL: THE MILLIONAIRE DETECTIVE’S DECOY (Part 9)
Part 9 is about rich people problems. 'nuff said.
"A dance party?" Kikuemon slowly stretched his back on his wheelchair. "Interesting. It's been a few years since we had a party in the house."
"Can we do it?" Daisuke loosened his expression because of relief.
"I'll be glad if it will be useful to your investigation. One thing, make it extravagant." The old man began to speak after signaling to Suzue, who has been waiting in the corner of the study room. "Prepare an invitation right away. Call all the chairs, presidents, and heads of companies and bank which we have business relationships. Call three or four ministers. Ambassadors should be five because it will be more interesting if we have mixed foreigners. Oh, and of course, all of my wife's company. Let's invite a famous actress abroad. I don't know what kind of actress is popular now, but I hope a young and beautiful actress. Call and ask the art director to bring in three or forty young actresses, and for music, the London Philharmonic."
(TL: even though I have read this I am still shookt at the three to forty actresses coz that just escalated so quickly lol and damn, a house party with the London Philharmonic orchestra?!)
"The symphony is a little too much," Daisuke rushed. "There are hundreds of members in a orchestra. We won't need such a large band. Rather, let's have a 50-string orchestra."
"Then, let's do that. Mantovani is a bit old. I don't know who is good now. Paul Mauriat. Let's have him. Then of course, let's call chefs from France, around seven or eight. The entertainment should be good magic. Let's have a circus in the garden. Let's call Hikita Tenko and Kinoshita. What do you mean there is no time now? Make it in time or else, it will not be a party."
(TL: Paul Mauriat and Mantovani are both orchestra leaders while Hikita Tenko is a magician. I don't know who Kinoshita is but it think he's probably a magician or someone who also does circus acts during the Showa Era)
Furthermore, while Kikuemon continued to talk about the plans for the party, he continued to write down notes and when he rested his pen a little, Suzue came to Daisuke. "Suzue-san. I have to get you to play a role."
"What?" Kikuemon showed a somewhat stern expression. "Isn't it a dangerous role?"
"No. I'm happy to cooperate if it will help in the investigation." Suzue's face flushed. "Even if it's  a little dangerous."
"It's not dangerous," Daisuke declared. "The four suspects all seem to like you, so I want you to use the party to approach and lure them."
"What lure?" Kikuemon widened his eyes.
"Hmmm, what kind of lure is it?" Daisuke told his plan to Suzue.
"I'm impressed." Suzue smiled at Kikuemon who's anxious for her. "It's okay. I can do that. I'm not a little girl anymore." Suzue nodded to Daisuke. "I mean, I'll just be a decoy."
"Yes, you'll be the decoy." Daisuke hesitated to add that she will be beautiful decoy, but decided not to say anything after all.
______________
Hatano thought that it was another world. This is another world. A completely different world from the one he lives in. A twelve-lamp chandelier that brightly illuminates the large hall with twenty glass doors open towards the garden. There under, dressed up people dancing, laughing, drinking, and talking. To the left and right of the large hall, rare fruits are on the table and the interiors are adorned with different flowers from around the world. Buckets of food and champagne are being brought one after another. Then, young men and women stroll in the garden lawn illuminated with hundred lights while the nine string melody is playing. The scene made Hatano, who's standing in the corned of the hall, heart sink rather gloomy. It was because he know how unsuitable he is for the place.
"I didn't think this kind of world really exist in our time. It's completely like an old-fashioned aristocratic society. Are we really in Japan?" Suda felt like he sobered up. "I used to know only one side of our society. I didn't even know such reality exist. This is actually why I keep insulting rich people." Embarassed with his clothes and with a glass of champagne given to him, Suda has been sitting in an inconspicious place under the stairs in the entrance hall for some time. It was clear that the young actresses would look down at him with contempt if he went out to the wide area. He's angry at Daisuke for inviting him and at himself for going. He thought maybe Daisuke is busy entertaining the other guests somewhere but he didn't show up and Suda couldn't help being overwhelmed by the number of guests.
Hayakawa wondered if he should return. Tired of being alone and lonely, he stood by the terrace with a frustrated look. Better yet, he could just get drunk but that would be unacceptable. It seemed like the circus has began in the corner of the garden and he had a loud laugh, but Hayakawa felt like a ridicule to himself and he became more depressed.
After boldly asking a young woman to accompany him but didn't accept, he couldn't invite anyone to dance anymore and Sakamoto gazed at his champagne and looked around him with frustration. He's been to business parties but he's always been in a position to serve. Damn, I wonder if I could only put myself on the service side, he thought. He's going to wear his best clothes so he shouldn't be too out of place, He can say to himself that it's not strange at all. After all, he thinks that the people who look at it can only see it as fashionable are those who are poor, so he shrugged. He came to the side of the bar where fellows like him are making drinks, so he finally found his place and felt calm.
"Oh, you're here." Suzue came and stood in front of Hatano. "I've been looking for you for some time."
At first, Hatano didn't think that the voice is calling for him, and he didn't even think it was Suzue. As soon as he felt that someone beautiful in a white dress is approaching him, he immediately turned away by instinct, which hurts him more. "Ms. Suzue," Hatano have bleary eyes but his eyes widened and got distracted when he glanced at Suzue's chest. "Sorry, there must be a mistake."
"No, I'm not mistaking it." With a friendly smile, Suzue looked at Hatano. "You were alone all this time. I'm really sorry for not entertaining you."
Nobody cares about me, he wanted to mutter such words but Hatano shook his head. "That's not true. I’m actually enjoying it."
THIS IS ACTUALLY ALSO LEFT ME HANGING BEC NEXT WOULD BE ABOUT SUDA ALREADYYYY. anyway late upload bec i know i will probably die from overwork soon lol.
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phoenixx2709 · 5 years ago
Text
 April Fools Part 2
Pairings: Becca × MC (Alex)
Hi guys, I'm back after a very long time. While writing this chapter,i felt like there should be a third part to this. I'll upload the next part soon. Let me know what you think!
_______
" I wanna break up." Becca said seriously. 
Alex searched for any signs of hesitation on the blonde's face but didn't find any. The words escaped Becca's lips causally,Alex knew she was certainty faking it  but it pinched something in her heart. 
She thinks to herself, Oh man..this isn't gonna be as easy as I thought.
She's so good at this. Why does she has to go too extreme everytime. 
Becca's lip twitched which snaps Alex back to reality. She consciously found herself gaping at the other girl.
 "Um.." she looked down at her feet,unable to find words.C'mon Alex say something! She'll probably think you're losing .
Becca crossed her arms in a sudden movement, her posture poised as usual. "Well? Don't you have anything to say?"
The brunette finally  manages to meet her eyes, "I think we should split up ,yea." She gulped. 
Becca's eyebrows furrow. Okay that's a good sign,she's buying it.
She continued ," I thought about it a lot. Last night ,me and Kaitlyn.. went to Amara's dorm after her band practice and we-"
"You what?!" Becca asks venomously. 
Before answering, Alex takes a note of her impatient expression. How her eyes seem to hold anger but also a sense of hurt. Her eyebrows pressed together, her jaw clenching, her fists which form balled by the sides. 
Wow I might die tonight. 
"I.. we kinda got close last night "
Becca took slow steps towards her,it took all of Alex's might to play cool.
"How close?" Her eyes now seem to be devoid of any emotion.  It takes Alex back in time when Becca and she used to be enemies.
"We..kissed" She half heartedly blurts out. 
Without a word,Becca rolls her eyes and takes a step to leave the room. 
Oh crap.
Just then Alex catches her by her wrist . 
"Babe I'm kidding! I swear nothing happened! It was just a lie I made up with Zack to win the bet. Becca I-" she was cut off by the blonde who doesn't turn around to see her, "Whatever Alex. We're over." 
Oh no no this can't be.
"Becca please, listen to me" her voice broke a little. "This was all supposed to be a stupid game. Becca, I would neve-"
"No Alex,be it a game or not. I don't wanna see your again." The words come out of her mouth like a train ,hitting her hard. 
She starts to feel hot tears welling up in her eyes,"Becca,look at me please." The last word almost comes as whisper, she tries to turn her around by cupping one side of her face. The blonde stands like a statue. "I can't even look at you right now " 
What have I done..
Finally she moves,her free hand goes up,covering her mouth. "But..." Her shoulders started to shake. 
Oh no, Is she crying?
Alex stays in her place still until Becca turns around and starts giggling "If you insist on me seeing your April fool's face then why not." 
Her eyes go wide. Oh. It dawns on her that she has been fooled. Almost unbelievably when she was one step ahead of her.
But.
But.
"But howw??"
Becca's giggles stop ,she looks at her with a glimpse of something in her eyes besides amusement . "Because.." She saunters towards her, keeping her hands on Alex's shoulders, she slowly guides her towards the bed. She pushes her down until she's sitting on the edge of the bed ,"I told you.." she straddles her and nibbles on her ear "I .belong .on. the. top". 
She catches her girlfriend's lips in a quick kiss that becomes a trail of heated kisses . Alex is the one who pulls away "but ..how?" . Becca chuckles , " all i can say is,your spy might not be as strong in keeping secrets as you think."  
Alex looks dumbstruck for a moment until it finally dawns on her.
..agent crazy..you did not.
Alex growls  like an angry puppy "I'm so gonna kill him" 
Becca giggles and cups her face,bringing a kiss on her cheek "At least you tried."
She uses her thumb to lift her chin "But you should have knows better, i always win. And i will collect my reward .Now.." she starts to unbutton Alex's shirt and pushes her onto the bed "It's payback time." She pins Alex's hands above her head. 
"As much as I'd love to continue this,I'm looking forward to our date." She pulls herself up and off the bed. "And..i'm hungry." She pouts. 
Alex pulls herself off the bed as well "Likewise."
You may believe I've given up this time. But this is not over Becs..this time. I'll win.
She feels confident to turn the tables.
-----
After changing,they both come down to the living room ,"I'll be there in a minute babe, I have a minor business to attend to." Alex mumbles . Becca nods and takes the keys of the car, she walks towards the door while Alex turns her heel to the living room.
She sees  Chris, and Kaitlyn are browsing through Netflix to pick a movie .
"Guys,I'm telling you I won't share my bowl." Zack emerges from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in his hand. 
"And we heard you for the third time,we're not selfish like you" Kaitlyn says over her shoulder.
"Oh hey Alex ,wanna watch a movie?" Kaitlyn offers. 
"No but thankyou Kait." Alex's eyes meet Zack's. 
 " Zack,can I talk to for a minute? In private?" Alex plasters a smile on her face.
Zack spots her fake smile "Nope. I'm good" he gets comfortable on the couch and starts to munch on popcorn. 
Alex shakes her head ,her jaw clenches as she walks upto his seat ,"Zack,I need to talk to you." Another fake smile.
"Well okay,what's the problem with talking here?" He pops another bite in his mouth.
Chris and Kaitlyn  looks at each other in confusion. 
"Oh,why can't I talk to you in private?" 
" ..because..I'm certain you have a chainsaw or something back there which you plan to use?"
Alex puts her hands on the hands of the seat in a sudden " Yes Of course! Because you totally Sold.me.out!" She blurts out.
His eyes go wide and he gasps, mouth forming the shape of a big 'O'.
"In my defense?? Becca is very intimidating when she's glaring at you with that mean girl look in her eyes and..and I'm very easy to break! I'm..fragile." he pouts. 
Alex gives him an exaggerated nod ,"Mhm,well, then it wouldn't be a problem if i do this". She slightly nudges the bowl which almost falls on Zack's lap. Half of his popcorn ends up on his lap. 
"You're meann!!" He screeches ,which is only matched by the sounds of laughter coming from the two audience of the room.
"Yea and you're a traitor" Alex takes a fistful of popcorn and starts walking towards the door. 
The door closes and the room falls silent until Chris and Kaitlyn look over to Zack ,waiting for an explanation. "What ? It wasn't that bad" he collects some pieces of popcorn and starts to munch on them,shrugging. After a moment, both of their laughs return watching him nonchalantly munching and waiting for the movie to start. 
"What? It's still food." He shrugs.
To be continued..
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autumnblogs · 4 years ago
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Day 18: Engineering our own misfortune
https://homestuck.com/story/2939
It never occurred to me until now that being betrayed by Jack Noir, the first person to accept him for who he is in a sense, is probably a signifcant part of the reason why Karkat is so angry. It’s probably ironic that the Blood Player’s relationships all have a tendency to disintegrate. Poor guy.
All but one of Karkat’s coplayers will either die, betray him, abandon him, or break up with him before the adventure is over.
More after the break. CW: This one has some suicide mentions in it.
https://homestuck.com/story/2950
WV and the other Carapacians may have some instinctive level of awareness of the players’ classes and aspects - while their legend is ensconced in Carapacian Lore, WV instantly senses the narrative presence of the Thief of Light.
https://homestuck.com/story/2960
Now here is something interesting. I just picked up on it, even though it has actually been present all throughout - when the Narrative addresses WV, it addresses him with information he almost certainly could not know - in a call and response fashion! While he’s jumping from one thought to another in terms of John’s different correspondents, the way that he phrases his dialogue suggests that he is aware of what the Narrative is addressing him.
https://homestuck.com/story/2962
And by all accounts, what he is viewing here is not the literal material events as they unfold, he’s literally looking at the same panels we are.
https://homestuck.com/story/2974
Vriska’s gloating here has always given me chills. It’s in moments like these that she really shines as not just a bully but an authentic diabolical mastermind who is, at least at this point in the story, utterly indifferent to the lives of other people.
https://homestuck.com/story/2975
Vriska’s external locus of control excuses her of feeling guilty about creating Bec Noir. While she is 100% responsible for it, that doesn’t mean, in her mind, that she should suffer any consequences for it (although she’s perfectly happy to take the credit for creating him, it seems.)
https://homestuck.com/story/2992
I’ve always thought that the Dream Bubbles were an extremely cool plot contrivance - semantically linking memories together with dreams and death is a really cool bit of linking.
https://homestuck.com/story/3008
Just as Jade has had effectively no parent to help her find her way in life, she will now have to suffer a sprite who cannot give her advice either. She remains alone.
https://homestuck.com/story/3010
Bec, to a greater degree than perhaps even the Seers, is directly cognizant of interruptions by Command Prompts.
https://homestuck.com/story/3017
I’m starting to be able to actually pick up the themes of the whole Exile plotline.
It seems, in general, to be a parable on power and authority, with each of the Exiles representing one kind or another. You’ve got WV who aspires to be first among equals, democratically elected, a community leader and organizer.
You’ve got the White Queen, who fits classical tropes related to the Good Monarch, a symbolic authority.
You’ve got the Peregrine Mendicant, whose take on governmental duty is more that of a functionary - her self-concept is as someone who does what is needed.
And then you’ve got the Aimless Renegade, who, as a Mad Max Type wasteland cop, could be read as either a playful parody of eighties and nineties copaganda, or as a criticism of copaganda, or both - government as the State, an enforcer of constructed order.
Of all of them, it’s clear that WV and PM’s takes on power are the most useful. The White King and Queen are quickly slaughtered once Jack arrives, because without their magical mcguffins, they remain little more than walking talking symbols.
AR is an interesting case though, because his defining character moment is that he hesitates to follow his orders, and while it could be argued that everything that ensues is his fault for not being stone cold enough to do what needs to be done, I’d argue that his hesitation is admirable - Jack escapes to live another day, and the Mayor survives. The Mayor’s infectious compassion ultimately saves his own life through the AR’s refusal to let him die by destroying the command stations in Cascade, because AR is not willing to trade lives.
https://homestuck.com/story/3040
I’ve never been entirely clear on whether the Dark Gods should be considered evil or simply incomprehensible, morally uncategorizable - in any case, the unique nature of the Kids’ session seems to preclude an ordinary relationship with them. By all accounts they also seem perfectly happy to help Rose create the Green Sun as well, sowing the seeds that will grow into Lord English, their own murderer.
Whatever they’re up to is extremely unclear, and they mostly seem to be a wildcard. I’ll have to see if any of my Homestuck chums have thoughts about the Horrorterrors. With the exception of the Dream Bubbles and their ability to facilitate interaction between the living and the Dead, talking to the Horrorterrors seems to be at best an exercise in facilitating inevitable misfortune - they seem to be all but completely useless.
I suppose learning how to navigate the furthest ring comes in handy exactly once, since it enables the kids to fly to the Alpha’s universe.
https://homestuck.com/story/3043
Rose’s pessimistic dissatisfaction manifests in two ways during this conversation - the first is her contemplation of self-destruction. Along with her suicide mission, one of the very first things she mentions about Doc Scratch is that he wants to die - which clearly fascinates her. The other thing is that, suspicious of the version of truth that Skaia presents, and lacking an anchor, she is very easily swayed by characters who offer her an alternative truth.
https://homestuck.com/story/3045
It has just occurred to me that while Rose doesn’t do anything directly to harm her co-players the way that Vriska does, the main actual thing that they have in common, that I was having a hard time putting my finger on, is actually another parallel between the two of them and Aradia - by allowing themselves to be manipulated by forces of evil beyond human comprehension - Doc Scratch in particular - Rose and Vriska both make manifest all sorts of misfortune. In Aradia’s case, it’s her continuous manipulation by the voices of the dead.
Both of them create nearly all of their own problems, and while they’re at it, create immense amounts of suffering from other people who happen to be in the vicinity. And, according to the rules of the Alpha Timeline, both of them therefore give their assent to their misfortune. The Alpha Timeline is, of course, the same as the Glub Glub trap - if you refuse to participate, you are destroyed, but participation is horrible.
https://homestuck.com/story/3055
Couple things.
The first and most obvious is;
Monkey see, Monkey do.
We’re starting to see the fallout of Vriska’s attempts to acculturate Tavros - she’s tried to force a square peg into a round hole, and has had no luck. Tavros doesn’t fit her vision of an ideal troll, and he never will; that’s not the kind of person that he is.
The use of the word hero is what’s important here. Notice especially the way that he draws a line from physical fitness and personal worth - the ability to do important things that you want to do has become Tavros’ idea of how to self-actualize. He has internalized Vriska’s toxic ideas.
The other thing is that while Grandpa may not have literally committed suicide, but he is clearly emotionally checked out of life - playing Indiana Jones when he’s away from home, and interacting with fantasy women at his tea party, instead of engaging with his real life granddaughter.
Suicide’s a touchy subject, one which Homestuck touches on. As I’ve already said, I’m not going to touch on the Epilogues or HS^2, both of which also touch on the subject. It’s not a central theme, I don’t think, although either killing themselves or waiting around to die recur multiple times as possibilities in the minds of different characters, particularly the Lalondes and Striders. I’ll have more to say about each individual instance, but in both the insincere threat of suicide Rose uses in her early strife, and here in Act 5, the act of self-destruction is not motivated by despair, but by spite - for Rose, self-destruction would be an act to spite someone else who wants her to exist.
Grandpa Harley’s complete emotional absence from the life of his loved ones might be called a bit of emotional suicide. Checked out of personal reality completely to pursue a life of fantasy (and to facilitate Sburb), Grandpa Harley may as well have been dead from Jade’s perspective, even before he died.
https://homestuck.com/story/3056
The link between being a Hero Coolguy and Romantic (Reproductive) Success is drawn very neatly by Tavros, but because the premise is false, the conclusion is also false.
https://homestuck.com/story/3059
Vriska immediately calls attention to the way Tavros is parroting her behavior because of her influence - without all of the chest-beating and saber-rattling that Vriska does, the skillfully executed showmanship of being aloof and confident, there’s not that much difference between what Tavros tried to pull just now, and what Vriska has always done - even repeating her romantic faux-pas.
https://homestuck.com/story/3078
And we’ll pause here, before I get to another walkaround, which I will do tomorrow.
Not a lot that inspired me to talk in the 150 or so pages I got today. Lots of action in Act 5, but less emotional meat to dig into.
For now, it’s Cam signing off, alive but not alone.
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ghoulified-owl · 4 years ago
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*Lore shit written poorly and really long*
[This is about Aly's opinion on Hancock]
I actually think that Aly probably wouldnt have liked Hancock in the very beginning, like yeah, he took her to amari n paid her medical shit, so she has some respect for him, but he's a politician. Aly is an anarchist. Mini problem there. Well, as repayment for the meds, she decides to do the Pickman quest, speaks to him, and overall agrees that yes, raiders suck. Please kill them. And doesn't kill Pickman. She doesn't tell Hancock that though bec she's unsure of how he would respond. She also liked Pickman since they're both artists, and she admires the twisted creativity. After that, her and Hancock dont speak much, she goes about the town doin random shit n jobs for folk. She ended up going in the alleyway that led to Bobbis place, hearing she had work, saw that Chem dude (Allen??) Selling psycho to some kid (like 10 ish) and murks his ass once the kid leaves n snatched the psycho from the kiddo n sends em along. Bobbi overhears this and decides to ask her to join her in The Big Dig quest because this lady just went full deathclaw infront of her lmao. Goes along the quest without an issue, then we hit the spot where Fer confronts them, and Aly actually agrees with both fer and Bobbi, that A: You should steal from someone who didnt deserve it (murder, hurtin kids, shit like that) and she also thinks that Hancock is really fucking egotistical. Mel is scared shitless of the guy though, and left during this conversation pf. The three of them decide to leave, and return to goodneighbor to speak to Hancock. Fer leads, and Aly offers Bobbi the location of sanctuary, and Bobbi accepts the offer under the promise of food, water, and one of the empty houses. She then leaves, and Aly continues with Fer. (Aly asked Bobbi to leave, because she had a feeling that it would've gotten sour very quickly if she stayed. She's right btw. Hancock would've faught with Bobbi, aly joins, and then Fer joins and that got bad. So yea, intuition things) The conversation with Hancock went basically the same way in game, with the whole "am I becoming a dictator" talk, and aly was like...yeah you kinda suck tbh, like u got massive gorrila balls, and you're hella outta touch. N he was like...damn..I mean fair,, but fuck. (She especially thought he was acting simular to Maxon, when he asked her to kill Danse, so that was,,triggering, but didn't tell him this because hes a ghoul, and many think the BoS are ghoul killers lol) At the end of the conversation, she realized that he was actually bothered by becoming a dictator, and offered to let him stay around for a while. He accepts the offer, since he's aware of her whole doing jobs for folk, and the good word those people put. He does his speech blah blah blah, and they leave the statehouse, and boooom, Kent's outside speaking of the silver shroud n aly decides to check it out while John's talkin to Daisy. She then decides to go full anarchist and fuc shit up for CriMe heheeehehheh, though she didnt decide to wear the costume, and instead is VERY public about what's she is doing (this is partly because she knew of institute influence on the commonwealth because of the bos. Due to this she was aware Goodneighbor had institute influence, nad wanted to figure out who it was) uhhhh I'm tired so I'll probably continue this later??
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abusybuzzingbee · 5 years ago
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Skin | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 6 Rewrite | Dean x Fem!Reader
A/N: this gif is SAUCY i should not find it as attractive as I do
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Major Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester
Warnings: canon level violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other TW: shifter calls the reader some pretty terrible things that may be triggering to some readers. if you tend to have self-deprecating thoughts, you may not want to read this episode. also, heavy topics mentioned in a fight between Dean and the reader
Word Count: 7,547
Summary: The boys and the reader head to St. Louis, Missouri when Sam gets an email about one of his college buddies. Tensions continue to rise between Dean and the reader following their dispute in Toledo, Ohio. 
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Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face Sam. “Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” 
Sam did not respond to him. 
“Sam wears women’s underwear.”
“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy,” Sam answered, never looking up from his phone as he scrolled through it.
“Busy doin’ what?”
“Reading e-mails.”
The older brother got out of the car and began to fill up the Impala’s gas tank. “E-mails from who?”
“From my friends at Stanford.”
“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?”
“Why not?” Sam shrugged.
“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”
“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”
“Oh, so you lie to ‘em.”
You picked at your nails as you sat in the backseat. “What else is he supposed to do? Say, ‘Hey, I’m hunting ghosts’?”
“I get why he’s lying, I’m not tellin’ him to tell the truth.”
Sam looked over to Dean. “So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”
Dean shrugged.
“You’re serious?”
“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period,” Dean answered.
“Oh, whatever.” You flopped back onto the leather seat.
"You’re kind of anti-social, you know that?” Sam told his brother.
“Yeah, yeah.” Dean shook his head.
The younger Winchester went back to his emails.
“God…” he trailed off.
“What?”
“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”
“Is she hot?”
You scoffed. “Really, Dean?”
“I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack,” Sam explained. “She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”
Dean paused. “Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?”
"No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”
"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.”
“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.”
Dean leaned down into the passenger’s side window, chuckling, “Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”
“It is our problem,” Sam argued. “They’re my friends.”
“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, guys.”
“So?” you questioned.
You and Dean exchanged annoyed looks before he got in the car and pulled away.
***
“Dude, this house belongs in the Hills,” you told Sam as you took in the large two-story house that sat on a beautifully manicured lawn. 
He chuckled at your comment. “This one’s no big deal compared to some of my other friends’ houses. You should’ve seen Jess’s parents’ house.”
You smiled faintly. “I bet it was beautiful.”
Sam nodded, mirroring your expression. He knocked on the wood of the large front door which opened to reveal a pretty girl with blonde hair.
“Oh my God, Sam!” she exclaimed.
“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” he replied.
‘Little Becky?’ you thought.
“You know what you can do with that ‘little Becky’ crap,” she grinned. The two of them hugged.
“I got your e-mail,” he explained to her.
“I didn’t think that you would come here,” she said.
Dean took the opportunity to step in. “Dean. Older brother.” He extended his hand to her.
She shook it. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I’m (Y/N), I’m a family friend,” you said, effectively pulling her eyes away from Dean as you shook her hand. You were not about to watch him eye-fuck one of Sam’s friends.
“We’re here to help,” Sam told her. “Whatever we can do.”
“Come in.”
Becky led you three into the house.
“Nice place,” Dean commented as he looked around at the tall ceilings and seemingly expensive furniture.
“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free.”
“Where are your folks?”
“They live in Paris for half the year--” Becky replied.
‘Of course, they do. Wasps.’
“--so they’re on their way home now for the trial. Do you guys want a beer or something?” she asked as she led you into the kitchen.
The older Winchester smiled. “Hey--”
Sam cut him off. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.”
“Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Becky began to tear up. “So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”
“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene,” Sam suggested. “Zack’s house.”
“We could,” Dean agreed.
“Why? I mean, what could you do?”
“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.”
Dean laughed. “Detective, actually.”
‘Oh, great.’
“Really?” Becky’s eyes sparkled. “Where?”
“Bisbee, Arizona,” he lied."But I’m off-duty now.”
“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just—I don’t know.”
Sam tried to convince her. “Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.”
“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.” She walked away from you three down the hall. 
As soon as she was out of sight, Dean turned to his brother. “Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends.”
“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam countered.
“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.”
“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.”
Dean still was not completely convinced.
“Sounds a little bit like our gig, Dean,” you pressed further.
He said nothing but looked defeated. 
You and Sam smiled at each other.
***
You and the boys stood next to Becky by the Impala. You stared out at the small, white house blocked off by yellow and black tape.
“You’re sure this is okay?” Becky asked Dean.
“Yeah. I am an officer of the law.” 
You rolled your eyes at Dean’s unconvincing tone. ‘Good grief.’ 
Dean led the way up to the house, ducking under the tape, followed by you and then Sam.
Despite how frequently you work jobs, the sight of a gruesome crime scene always made you sick to your stomach. 
Blood was splattered everywhere. It stained the newspapers on the coffee table, the knocked-over lamp in the corner of the living room, and the picture frame that hung tilted to the side.
“Bec, you wanna wait outside?” Sam asked her as she stood on the other side of the tape.
You looked over at the young woman. She had one arm wrapped around her stomach and one hand over her heart. The blonde steeled herself despite her obvious discomfort. “No, I wanna help.” 
“Tell us what else the police said,” Sam prompted.
“Well, there’s no sign of a break-in,” she started tearfully. “They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers—they’re already talking about a plea bargain.” Becky looked around her, more tears rising to the surface as she did so. “Oh, God….”
“Look, Bec, if Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?”
The blonde shook her head, but then a look of remembrance crossed her face. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack’s clothes. The police—they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” 
Sam and Dean walked away from you and Becky. The blonde followed after Dean as he went to the front door. Apparently, he was looking at the neighbor’s dog as you gathered from what Becky told him next.
“You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.” She looked over his shoulder at the barking animal.
“What happened?” he asked.
"He just changed.”
“Do you remember when he changed?”
“I guess around the time of the murder.”
Dean looked back at her before walking away. 
You went to the kitchen to meet Sam. He was looking at something posted to the fridge door.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” you asked the boy.
He gestured the picture in front of him. It was of himself, Zack, and Becky.
“You were really close to these guys, huh?” 
“Yeah,” he nodded sadly.
“I’m sorry you had to leave all this behind,” you stated.
He shook his head. “It’s okay.”
Dean walked up behind you and his younger brother. “So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”
“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,” Sam noted.
“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’,” Dean affirmed.
“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”
No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”
“You just can’t admit when you’re wrong, huh?”
“Nope,” he grinned.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head.
Becky walked over to you. 
“So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction,” Dean told her.
“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop,” she explained.
The older brother laughed.
“I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”
“Right on,” you grinned.
***
Once you got back to Becky’s parents’ house, the four of you sat down to watch the security footage.
The screen showed the front of Zack’s house lit up in the dark night by the lights on either side of the door.
“Here he comes,” Becky said just as Zack appeared on screen.
Dean noted the timestamp. “22:04, that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”
“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.”
“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam questioned.
“Oh, sure,” she answered. She got up from the couch to go to the kitchen.
“Hey,” Sam stopped her. “Maybe some sandwiches, too?”
“What do you think this is, Hooters?” she joked with a grin. She left the room shortly after.
“I wish,” Dean chuckled. “What is it?”
“Check this out.” Sam rewound the tape and replayed it. One of the frames showed Zack looking right at the camera, but his eyes had an unnatural silver color to them.
“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean pointed out.
“That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam began.
“Right,” you affirmed. “Remember how that dog completely freaked? Maybe he could sense this was some sort of a dark double of Zack’s.”
“Like a Doppelganger,” Sam added.
“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was two places at once.”
***
Despite how you and Dean were not verbally attacking each other constantly, the tension between the two of you was stronger than ever. He did not trust you, and you were still pissed at him for what he said to you. 
Back at the motel, you hoped a shower would help clear your mind. You turned the water on and began to sing to yourself. 
‘Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and
Wouldn't you love to love her?’
You used to love listening to Fleetwood Mac with your mother. “Rihannon” was one of her favorite songs.
‘Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and
Who will be her lover?’
Both you and your mother had beautiful voices. The two of you loved to sing to one of her cassette tapes together. “Rihannon” was one of those songs that when you sang it with her it would make you feel genuine peace. With the life you led, moments of peace were few and far between. 
‘All your life you've never seen
A woman taken by the wind’
One of your favorite memories with your mother was riding in her beat-up station wagon on a highway in West Texas. The sun was just beginning to set, the windows were rolled down, and the wind whipped through your hair. The shadows of the dense trees on either side of the road made shapes appear on your face with patches of light shining through the holes in the shadows. You were sixteen at the time. The two of you took this rare moment alone to sing together, simply enjoying each other’s company. 
‘Would you stay if she promised you heaven?
Will you ever win?’
You scrubbed your scalp as you rinsed the soap out of your hair, closing your eyes in an attempt to bring yourself back to that day. 
‘She is like a cat in the dark and then
She is the darkness
She rules her life like a fine skylark and when
The sky is starless’
If you could have your mom back, for even just a moment, maybe you would be able to feel that same peace again. You would feel safe and protected. The day before her passing was the last time you felt truly at peace.
‘All your life you've never seen
A woman taken by the wind’
Tears clouded your vision and your throat constricted as you continued to sing. 
‘Would you stay if she promised you heaven?
Will you ever win?
Will you ever win?’
***
A loud knock on your door pulled you out of your deep sleep.
You jumped, grabbing for the gun you kept under your pillow. You cocked it, walked up to the door, and pressed the muzzle of the gun against it. You opened it with your opposite hand just a crack. To your surprise, it was Dean.
You slammed it back in his face.
“(Y/N), open the damn door,” he demanded unenthusiastically.
You did not, but put the safety back on your gun and threw it on your bed. “What do you want, asshole? It’s almost five in the morning.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that. Look, I don’t wanna be up either. It was Sam’s idea,” he explained. 
You opened the door just a crack. “Okay, what does he want at almost five in the morning?”
“I don’t know, he just had a thought, I guess.” Despite the fact that you were asking completely fair questions, his tone showed he was clearly agitated. “Get dressed.”
***
“Alright, so what are we doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning?” Dean questioned. He leaned against the hood of the Impala which was parked outside of Zack’s house. 
“I realized something,” Sam stated. “The videotape shows the killer goin’ in, but not comin’ out.”
You walked over to the younger of the two brothers who was across the street from the car. “So, he came out the back door?” 
"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”
“‘Cause they think the killer never left, and they caught Zack inside,” you added.
“I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning,” Dean grumbled.
Both you and Sam chose to ignore him as you looked around outside of the building. 
“Blood,” you noted as you looked at a smear on a wooden telephone pole. “Somebody came this way.”
“Yeah, but the trail ends. I don’t see anything over here,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee.
An ambulance blared its sirens as it sped down the street that separated you and Sam from Dean. 
You looked up at Sam, who exchanged a knowing look with Dean.
Dean drove the three of you over to where you assumed the ambulance was coming from. He parked a few houses down from a house that was surrounded by police cars. One policeman was covering the house with yellow and black tape.
You got out of the Impala, watching as a man in a suit was handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car. 
Dean walked a few paces ahead of you, stopping next to one of the onlookers. She looked as if she had been going for a jog when she stumbled upon the crime scene, as her hair was tied back and she had an MP3 played secured to her arm.
“What happened?” he asked her.
“He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her,” she informed him.
Sam tore his attention away from the house and turned to the woman.“Really?” 
“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say ‘hello.’ He seemed like such a nice guy.” The young woman shook her head. 
You watched as the cop car with the supposed killer in it drove off. 
The three of you decided to stay at the scene of the crime to dig around. You and Sam walked around the back of the house, looking for any sort of a clue. Sam lifted the lid on one of the two blue garbage cans behind the house. 
“Why are you dumpster diving?” you asked Sam. “I don’t think the killer’s hiding in there.”
“Shut up,” he chuckled. “I don’t know, I’m just looking for... anything. I don’t really know what to look for.”
“Yeah, me neither,” you told him as the two of you walked around to the front of the house.
Dean came up behind Sam a moment later. “Hey.”
The two of you turned around.
“Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?”
“Uh-huh,” you nodded.
“Definitely our kind of problem.”
“What’d you find out?” Sam questioned.
“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently, the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,” he informed you.
“So, he was two places at once,” Sam affirmed.
“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he’s a nutjob.”
“Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way.”
“Could be the same thing doin’ it, too.”
You thought for a second. “Shapeshifter?”
Dean shrugged.
“Dude, bear with me on this one. It’s something that can make itself look like anyone.”
“Yeah, I got that part,” he replied.
“Every culture in the world has shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men,” Sam added.
“Right. Skinwalkers, werewolves,” you continued.
“We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood,” the younger brother went on.
“Shapeshifters aren’t exactly known for flying--” you started as you headed off back behind the building, “--so I think it’s safe to say that I found a trail back there. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way.” you pointed down the street.
“Just like your friend’s house,” Dean told Sam.
“Yeah. And, just like at Zack’s house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared,” you noted.
“Well, there’s another way to go—down,” the older Winchester pointed out.
You looked down to where the trail ended to find a manhole. 
The three of you climbed down the ladder into the hole, looking around the dark cavern. 
“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too,” Sam commented. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”
You went to take a step but stopped yourself when you looked at what you were about to walk into. You bent down, examining the pile of what appeared to be blood and skin. 
“Is this from his victims?” Sam asked as he, too, bent down.
You took out your pocketknife, picking up some of the skin with the end of the blade. “Gross.”
“You know, I just had a sick thought,” Dean piped up. “When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.”
You looked back to see Sam’s nose scrunch up further as he thought about what Dean had said. “That is sick.”
You shook the skin off of your knife, wiping it off on Dean’s jacket.
“Hey!” He swatted your arm away.
You snickered. 
“C’mon, you two,” Sam commanded with a groan as he made his way up the ladder. 
Sam and Dean followed close behind you as you headed to the car. You leaned on the side of it as Dean popped open the trunk. 
“Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”
“Silver bullet to the heart,” Sam nodded. A moment later, his phone rang. “This is Sam... We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out...” He mouthed Becky’s name to you to let you know who was on the phone. His expression changed a moment later to one of confusion. “What are you talkin’ about?... Why would you do that?” Suddenly, he seemed irritated. “Bec—... We’re tryin’ to help... Bec, I’m sorry, but—” He was cut off when she hung up on him.
“What was that all about?” you asked. 
“She found out about Dean.”
“What, how he’s not a detective?”
“Yep.”
“I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” Dean jumped in. “You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just--it’d be easier if--”
Sam understood where his brother was going with his statement. "If I was like you.”
“Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people. But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain’t without perks.” He held up a gun with a smirk.
***
The three of you headed back down the manhole, walking down the cavernous hallway with flashlights and guns in hand. 
“I think we’re close to its lair,” you told Sam.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face,” you grinned.
“Oh, God!” he cried as he turned to see skin and blood on the pipe not two inches from his face.
Dean noticed a pile of clothes in the corner. “Looks like it’s lived here for a while.”
“Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away with?” Sam shook his head.
You heard a small splash in a puddle behind Dean. You whipped around and aimed your flashlight at the sound, seeing the shifter in the form of the businessman. 
“Dean!” Sam shouted.
He wheeled around only to get punched in the face by the shifter. Dean toppled to the ground as the shifter ran away from you and the boys. 
Sam shot after it a few times, but he missed. You tore down the corridor after it, not even once taking a look at Dean.  
“Get the son of a bitch!” Dean yelled after you.
“That’s the idea, jackass!” you called back. You watched as the shifter climbed out of the manhole you and the Winchesters had used to get into the sewers. You scrambled up the ladder as quickly as you could, popping out of the ground and gazing out into the dark night.
You could just barely see the shifter at this point. You followed where you thought you had seen him turn. You held your gun inside your jacket, eyes focused on the alleyway you saw the shifter turn into. You pressed your back against the brick wall of the shop on the right of the alley before turning into it. You shined your flashlight down the dark alley, walking into it a few paces. The all too familiar smell of coconuts and tobacco filled your nose. When the beam of light hit the wall of the building along the back of the alley, you turned around, only to see the shifter in the form of the businessman staring directly at you. Before you could so much as aim your gun at it, it hit you over the head. Your vision went completely dark.
***
You woke up to an unfamiliar sight. The shifter had taken you to his lair; a cold, damp, dimly lit room in what seemed to be a house. You groaned before attempting to stand up, only to get choked by a rope that had been secured around your neck and pulled back by ropes around your hands. The shifter had tied you to a wooden post. 
‘Brilliant,’ you thought.
You heard muffled voices behind you, one that sounded like it was Dean’s. 
“Dean?” you called.
“(Y/N), it’s not--” Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan. 
“Dean” walked over to you. 
“Hiya, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post. 
“Dean, the rope around my neck, it’s too tight,” you lied, struggling against the ropes. You pretended like your throat was constricted by making your voice strained. “Help me, please,” you begged.
The shapeshifter chuckled. “How stupid do you think I am?”
You dropped the act. “It was worth a shot,” you mumbled.
“You act like Dean-- I’m sorry, I-- would help you anyway,” he said as he walked away from you.
You looked up at him curiously.
He turned back to face you. “I’m so ready to leave your sorry ass in the dust,” the shifter laughed coldly. “All you’ve done since we met you is cause more trouble for us. I hope you’re tellin’ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livin’ crap outta me.” The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another. 
“You’re a burden, (Y/N). You’re exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I can’t trust you, not after what happened in Toledo. How do I know you won’t turn on me and Sammy?”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. 
He turned away from you once more. “Sammy... that’s another thing. I hate how close the two of you have gotten. I mean, you roll up in your stolen car and immediately have him wrapped around your finger. He’s so ready to defend you against me. Maybe that’s why I hate you so much. You’ve replaced me. And sooner or later, you’re gonna take him away from me. Hell, everyone else in my life’s left, why wouldn’t he?”
The shifter took a deep breath, his frustrated expression leaving his face. He replaced it with a smug look as he continued on berating you. “Y’know, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But I’m sure he’d have tons of fun with Sam’s little friend Becky.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”
With that, the shapeshifter disappeared.
You heard Sam mutter something, and then someone coughing. 
“That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature,” you heard Dean call from somewhere in the cavern. 
“Yeah, it’s me,” Sam confirmed.
You steeled yourself, trying to push the shifter’s hurtful words out of your mind. “Sam, that thing went to Becky’s carryin’ Dean’s face,” you informed him. 
“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one,” he told Sam.  
“Shut up,” you groaned, trying to wiggle your way out of the ropes around your wrists. 
“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you,” Sam continued. “Or he was becoming you.”
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.”
“You mean, like the Vulcan mind-meld?”
“Yeah, somethin’ like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us,” Sam suggested. 
You heard shuffling behind you, which you assumed was Dean walking over to Sam.
“Hey, jackass, you passed me up,” you yelled at Dean.
“I know,” he called back to you. He went back to his conversation with Sam. “Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” 
“Hands,” Sam ordered Dean. “Yeah. Come on, we gotta go. He’s probably at Rebecca’s already.”
“I’m still stuck here!”
Sam came over to help you get the ropes undone. However, Dean could care less about the state you were in.
You found all of the guns the shapeshifter had stolen off of the three of you, and you tossed each of the guns to their respective owners. 
Sam boosted you up to a window high off the ground in the room you were in.  You climbed out, “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.” Sam started to head down the street. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean effectively stopped his brother. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”
“Sorry,” Sam grimaced.
“This way.” You took off down the street. The neighborhood you sprinted through was dark, the street lamps so scattered and dimly lit that you could hardly see your feet hit the pavement below you. As you came up on a block full of shops, you slowed your run to a walk as to not draw too much attention in the well-lit area. 
You almost headed past a shop with a bunch of televisions set to a news channel in the window, but you stopped when you heard what the reporter was relaying to the audience.
“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”
A sketch of Dean appeared on the screen next to the reporter. 
“Man! That’s not even a good picture,” Dean piped up from next to you.
You looked around, making sure no one heard Dean’s loud exclamation and got suspicious.
“It’s good enough,” Sam muttered. He quickly walked past the shop to get back in the cover of night on the other side of the strip of stores.
“Man!” Dean grunted as he followed his brother.
“Hush, you big baby,” you snapped. 
Sam turned down an alley with you and his older brother falling behind. 
“Come on,” Sam urged the two of you quietly. “They said attempted murder. At least we know--”
Dean cut him off. “I didn’t kill her.”
“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s all right.”
“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”
“Dean,” you started, “We have no weapons. No silver bullets.”
He stopped, turning to face you. "(Y/N), the guy’s walkin’ around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal. I wanna find him.”
“Okay. Where do we look?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
The older Winchester paused for a moment. “Well, we could start with the sewers.”
“We have no weapons, genius. He stole our guns, we need more.” 
“The car?” Sam offered.
You shrugged. “He probably drove it over to Rebecca’s.”
“The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”
"The thought of him drivin’ my car,” Dean snarled.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Alright, come on.”
“It’s killin’ me,” the older brother whined.
“Let it go.”
***
As you walked up the street on the right side of Becky’s house, you noticed the silhouette of the car outlined by the dim light of the street lamp.
“Oh, there she is!” Dean exclaimed happily, the relief in his voice evident. “Finally, something went right tonight.”
A police car appeared around the corner and parked next to the Impala.  
“Oh, shit,” you muttered. You turned around, beginning to run away, but another cop car was parked across the street at the intersection you had come from.
This way, this way.” Dean headed toward a fence.
“You go. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Sam told you and his brother.
“What are you talking about? They’ll catch you,” the older Winchester said.
“Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight,” the brunet urged. “Meet me at Rebecca’s.”
“You got it, chief,” you called back.
 Dean was the first to hop the fence and you followed. You stumbled upon landing in the backyard of the house you happened upon.
The voice of a police officer broke through the silent night as you and Dean started off to the fence on the backside of the yard. “Don’t move! Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.”
You climbed over the fence into the backyard of another house and ran around the left side of it to head down the street the cop car was parked at the intersection of. The two of you stayed out of the glow of the lamp lights that lined either side of the road as you ran along. 
When you had gotten several blocks over from where you had that run-in with the cops, you and Dean stopped to catch your breath. You both sat down on the street corner, chests heaving. The older Winchester went to lay back, but you stopped him.
“Hey, stay sittin’ up,” you directed.
“What? Why?”
“You’re gonna pass out if you do.”
“Uh, okay.” He looked at you as if you did not know what you were talking about but still followed your orders. 
The two of you sat in silence for a minute. 
“So, what now?” you questioned. 
He shook his head. “The cops are probably still snoopin’ around Rebecca’s house. Can’t go get the car ‘til they’re cleared out.”
“Yeah, so, what now?” you asked again.
“I don’t know, man,” he grumbled annoyedly. “You got any ideas, Einstein?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you, dumbass,” you responded snippily. “What time is it?” 
“I don’t know. I don’t have a watch on me.”
“Great,” you sighed, standing up. You brushed your hands off on your pants and dusted the back of your jeans off. 
“Could go get some burgers,” Dean piped up from his seated position on the grass.
“Your brother just got arrested, and you’re a wanted man, but sure, let’s take you where everybody in the joint’s gonna be able to clearly see your face.”
“Jeez, calm down. It was just a suggestion.”
“Yeah, a dumb one.”
“What’s your deal, (Y/N)?” Dean stood up, and you turned to face him.
“My deal? What about yours?”
“I don’t have one! But you’ve clearly got a stick up your ass.”
You shook your head in frustration. “Dean, don’t lie to me. You have a deal. With me, specifically. The shifter told me all about it.” 
The young man tilted his head to the side in question. “What?”
“Yeah, he told me what you really think of me,” you continued. You took a step toward him with each sentence. “How much I annoy you. How much I exhaust you. How much of a burden I am to you.”
His face dropped out of its angry expression as he took a step back.
“He also told me how you think I’m gonna replace you in Sam’s eyes.” You laughed coldly. “Is that why you hate me so much? Because you’re so insecure about your relationship with Sam?”
The fact that Dean did not respond showed you that you were correct.
“I gotta be real with you, that’s pathetic.” You regretted what you said instantly.
The anger returned to his face. “Still think you don’t have a stick up your ass after you say something like that?”
“I’m sorry, I--”
“No. Just shut up.”
He walked off down the street.
Your frustration replaced your guilt in an instant. “Seriously? I say one thing that cuts slightly below surface-level insults and you get butthurt?”
Dean turned around. 
You walked up to him. “What I just told you was fucked up, sure. But it wasn’t half as bad as what you said to me back in Toledo. That I probably drove my family crazy enough that they'd kill themselves over it? Does that ring a bell?"
“What do you want me to say, (Y/N)?”
“I want you to apologize, for starters!” you shouted back. Your tone changed to dripping with sarcasm. “Now, I know that would require you to humble yourself and get past your superiority complex, so I understand how difficult that’s gonna be for you.”
“I’m sorry, okay!” he yelled, throwing his arms out to his sides. “And I’m sorry about what that shifter said to you.”
“Thank you!” You took a moment to collect yourself. “And I’m sorry, too.”
“Thanks.”
You looked around at the houses that surrounded you on either side of the road the two of you stood in the middle of. “Now that we probably woke up half the neighborhood, let’s bounce.”
Dean chuckled, walking down the street away from you. You caught up to him.
“I don’t know where you think you’re going, we haven’t exactly decided what we’re doing.”
“I’m goin’ back to Becky’s. The cops probably cleared out by now,” he replied.
‘Okay, way to fill me in on what the plan is,” you scoffed. 
“I didn’t realize I had to share every little bit of my thought process with you,” Dean clapped back.
“Well, it’s kinda helpful to know what you’re thinkin’ when we’re working together,” you told him.
“Whatever,” Dean brushed you off. “Why does it bug you, anyway? That’s such a stupid thing to fight with me about.”
“I don’t know,” you confessed. “Your face is just annoying.”
“Gee, thanks,” he retorted dryly. 
As you approached the car, you noticed the sun had begun to rise.
“I guess that answers the ‘what time is it’ question,” you noted. “It’s probably somewhere around five in the mornin’.”
Dean popped open the trunk, shrugging on the navy blue canvas jacket he found on top of the gun compartment. You grabbed your duffel bag out of the trunk before Dean opened the hollowed-out bottom of the trunk. 
You grabbed more silver bullets out of your bag and loaded them into your gun as Dean filtered through the weapons in his trunk.
“Doesn’t look like the shifter took anything,” he told you.
“Alright, to the sewers.” You headed up to the passenger’s seat after haphazardly throwing your bag over Dean’s head back into the trunk.
“Watch it!” Dean scolded. “You almost knocked me out!”
“But I didn’t,” you smirked, ducking down into the front seat. 
***
You and Dean pointed your flashlights and guns around the sewer as you walked down the corridor together. 
You walked into a chamber filled with candles and chains hanging from the ceiling. You aimed your flashlight at the ground, noticing many piles of shed skin and blood all over the floor. You even noticed a few teeth and fingernails near the pile.
“I’m gonna be sick,” you grimaced, looking up at Dean.
“(Y/N)?” you heard a muffled voice call from the far right corner of the chamber.
“Bec?” you responded, rushing over to a curled up figure covered by a tarp. You pulled the cover off to reveal a disheveled Rebecca, her hands and feet bound with rope.
“Thank God,” she sighed when she saw your face as you began to untie her. The blonde’s face was red, and tears had dried on her face. 
Dean came over to the two of you, coming up behind you. “What happened?” 
Rebecca started crying again as she spoke. “I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”
“It’s okay, you’re okay now,” you coaxed her as you finished untying her binds.
“Come on. Can you walk?” Dean asked as he helped Becky stand up. 
She nodded.
“Okay, we’ve gotta hurry. Sam went to see you.”
***
You jumped out of the car before it had even stopped rolling into the half-circle shaped driveway, rushing into Rebecca’s house behind Dean.
You held your gun out in front of you, Dean doing the same and yelling “Hey!” as he entered the living room. 
You saw the shifter in the form of Dean jump off of Sam, whom he had previously been strangling. Dean shot the shifter in the chest twice, and it dropped to the ground dead. 
You ran over to Sam. “Hey! Hey, are you okay?” you questioned as he slowly sat up, grasping at his neck. 
The younger brother groaned, nodding in response. 
You blew out a puff of air. Rebecca came running over, crouching down to yours and Sam’s level, looking him over. 
You looked back at Dean and watched as he ripped the necklace he always wore from around the shapeshifter’s neck. He looked over at you, giving you a knowing nod. His jaw was clenched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. 
You stood up, leaving Sam and Rebecca on the floor while you walked over to Dean. His eyes followed your face as you got closer to him 
“So, what are you gonna do with... you?” you chortled, trying to make light of the situation. 
He scoffed at you. “I guess have Becky call the cops once we get the hell outta dodge.”
“Sounds good,” you nodded, glancing down at the shifter. Your movements tensed as you remembered the awful things he said to you. Things that had apparently been on Dean’s mind; the reasons why he hated you. Despite the fact that Dean had apologized, you were still hurt. 
“You okay?” Sam asked you when he walked up behind you. 
You turned around to face him, noticing Dean had left his crouched position next to the shapeshifter.
“Yeah,” you lied, “I’m good.”
He gave you a knowing look with a tilt of his head.
You smiled half-heartedly. “We’ll talk about it later.”
***
You and Dean were packing up the car while Sam said his goodbyes to Rebecca. You looked on as the two friends shared a hug. When they pulled away, the blonde waved to you and Dean. You smiled at her, waving back. 
“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked as soon as Sam walked up to the car. 
“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam smirked. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.” 
Dean rolled his eyes before he got into the car, leaving you and Sam chuckling to yourselves. 
***
Dean broke the silence in the car that you three had been enjoying the entirety of the ride up until that point. “Sorry, man.”
You looked away from the trees that flew by outside of the Impala’s window over to Dean.
“About what?” Sam inquired.
“I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be….Joe College.”
“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.”
“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak,” Dean quipped.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way.”
“Yeah, I know you are,” the younger brother laughed.
“Aw, isn’t this sweet,” you piped up from the backseat.
“Shut up, (Y/N),” Dean responded, making you snicker. He paused. "You know, I gotta say—I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” 
Sam turned his head to his brother. “Miss what?” 
"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”
You snorted, curling up against the window while the car went quiet again. The shapeshifter’s words swirled around in your mind, causing the corners of your lips to turn down. 
Were you really a burden to Dean? Or was the shapeshifter just saying that to get under your skin? 
‘I mean, he never denied feeling that way when we were fighting,’ you reminded yourself. You huffed, crossing your arms. 
‘I’ll talk to Sam about it next time we stop,’ you told yourself. You closed your eyes and decided napping was a better idea than being in your own head at the moment. 
One final thought made its way into your head before you could suppress it. 
‘He can’t really think that badly of me... could he?’
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beca-mitchell · 5 years ago
Text
we are the wild youth (3/5)
chapter 3: it's been so damn hard on my own
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Chapter summary: In an extremely shocking twist, Beca realizes that she had been falling for Chloe all this time.
Again, rated M/E for depictions and references to coitus. Chapter also has references to deaths of family members.
Chapter title is from A R I Z O N A’s “Let Me Know”.
Now there’s an “EP”/playlist!
Word count: 5,574
Read below or on AO3.
It is the morning that follows, a sleepy, cold morning, that Beca gets that long-awaited email from her boss. It is an email telling her that his contact in New York pulled through.
Beca is wide awake.
Sammy ended up sending his contact some of Beca’s original stuff, finally deeming it ‘good enough’ to be viable, and well—
A job opportunity—no, better. A job offer at a record label as a junior producer.
She finally gets to leave. She’s going to leave once she graduates and she’s going to finally pursue her dreams.
She drops her arm back onto the bed, suddenly more conscious and aware of her other arm, trapped beneath Chloe’s body as she snoozes next to her. Beca ends up lying awake until Chloe slowly awakens as well, stretching contentedly like a cat in sunshine against Beca’s side. There is a distinct youthfulness to Chloe’s features this early in the morning, Beca thinks—like for once Chloe isn’t plagued by her past, her present, or future.
“What?” Beca asks when Chloe stares at her with a content, sleepy expression on her face. It makes Beca nervous, but she can’t pinpoint why.
“Nothing,” Chloe says finally and instead surges up to press a deep, wanting kiss against Beca’s lips, eviscerating all other wake-up calls Beca has ever received in her life.
  — — x — —
 “I have a question,” Chloe says as they mull over formulas, proofs, and endless all-day breakfast at Carl’s later that day.
Without looking up, Beca sighs. “Chloe we just went over basic derivatives and you definitely—”
Chloe’s hand comes up to still Beca’s hand. Beca freezes.
“Do you and um,” Chloe hesitates. It’s the first time, really, that Beca has seen Choe somewhat flustered or nervous. Chloe seems to steel herself. “Do you and that uh, Jesse kid have like...a thing going on?”
It’s clear that this has been bothering Chloe to some extent, if the furrow in her brow and the questioning tilt in her eyes are anything to go by. If Beca weren’t mulling over how cute Chloe looked right then, she’d have burst out laughing right away. That being said, her laugh comes out short and delayed and entirely too awkward for her to really save anything about the situation.
Chloe is evidently taken aback and she leans back in the booth and crosses her arms, their homework forgotten. “I’m serious,” Chloe says, verging very close to a pout.
“I’m serious too,” Beca says, still laughing. “Where the fuck did you get that from?”
“I don’t know, you guys just seem…” Chloe bites her lip, looking more attractive than she has any right to be. “Close.”
“That’s what you get when a guy like Jesse forces his way into your life and somehow sticks around for three and a half years.”
“Is that what I did?” Chloe asks, her tone decidedly different from just a few moments ago. “Force my way into your life.”
"No," Beca says immediately. 
It's something closer to fate. Maybe destiny.
But it's not like those things are real anyway, so Beca can't really do much than meet Chloe's questioning gaze head-on.
  — — x — —
 Chloe just checking that we’re ok Bec?
A part of Beca threatens to burst—like she could really just spill everything she’s been feeling to Chloe right then and there. Her fingers long to type out an excessively long message, just to get her point across and just to expunge all of the emotions she currently feels.
Like the emotions dangerously resembling a dumb, gross crush on Chloe Beale.
She's sure Chloe knows by now. Chloe is the kind of girl who knows these things, likely from experience. Even more likely that she just has a better grasp on other people's emotions compared to Beca's own emotional bandwidth.
Beca Yeah, we’re ok
 "God, she definitely knows," Beca mumbles.
Chloe and you’re still coming for dinner w/ my parents?
There it is.
Beca swallows, having momentarily forgotten about it. She isn’t sure why the nerves seem to bubble up in her more than they normally would.
Beca Yeah
It isn’t like Chloe is her girlfriend and she’s meeting her parents for the first time. Just her tutoring subject. Beca is a tutor first and foremost.
Nothing wrong with that.
She’ll just make sure to maintain some distance between now and then.
  — — x — —
 So it turns out that distance is good, but Beca hadn’t thought about how distance would be completely eviscerated considering she is quite literally at Chloe’s parents’ house. Distance should be good. Or it would be if Beca weren’t such a chump and ringing the doorbell to Chloe’s massive house. Her father’s massive house.
Beca always thought her own father had a big house, but she supposes when Chloe’s father is a doctor-doctor, there’s a little bit more money than an English professor. Like a literal real doctor who has probably saved lives. That’s more than Beca can say about her father and his books.
She’s never going to give her father trouble for the size of his house again.
Chloe greets her at the door with a relieved expression. “I’m glad you came!” Chloe exclaims. She reaches out for Beca’s hand and laces their fingers together. The shock of holding Chloe’s hand makes Beca’s reply come in a lame, delayed fashion.
“You were the one who invited me,” Beca says quickly. “Of course I was going to come.”
“I know you were thinking of standing me up,” Chloe singsongs, still holding on to Beca’s hand as she drags her through a massive foyer and into the kitchen.
Beca can’t really say anything to that because it’s kind of true. She had been thinking about that, even though each instance of that thought sent sweeping guilt through her chest.
Chloe’s hand is soft and warm, unlike Beca’s cold, clammy hand. It feels nice. That’s kind of true, too.
“I’m glad you came,” Chloe repeats, more sincere than she had been at the door, not that Beca thought that was even possible. “I just...my dad’s been a lot recently. The lab is kind of struggling with funding so...yay,” she drawls. “And um,” Chloe’s eyebrows draw together. “Nothing, nevermind.”
Beca, knowing only vague things about Chloe’s father’s business, shrugs. “I’m sure it’s...it’s not as bad as you think and there isn’t anything to worry about.” She nudges Chloe. “And you’re set to take over eventually, aren’t you?”
Chloe’s expression shifts marginally before she composes herself and she shrugs. “I guess so, it’s just—” Chloe cuts herself off and sighs, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”
Before Beca can inquire more into that, soft footsteps sound behind her. “Oh,” a woman’s voice sounds from behind them. “I didn’t realize we had a guest.”
Chloe sighs and turns to face who Beca assumes to be her mother. “Mom, I told you I was inviting Beca over for dinner because dad wanted to meet her.”
Her mother smiles faintly. “That’s nice, dear. Nice to meet you, Becky.” She reaches for a wine glass from the cupboard. “I hope you like steak.”
“I do,” Beca says as pleasantly as she can, not bothering to correct her.
“Chloe, if you can, dear, please run and buy a couple bottles of red before dinner. We’re running low. You’ll indulge, won’t you, Becky?”
Before Beca can fully nod or respond, Chloe’s hand comes to grip her wrist again. Beca clamps her mouth shut and instead watches on silently as Chloe’s mother shuffles away again, humming to herself.
A million questions run through Beca’s mind. She had been under the assumption that Chloe’s mother was a researcher of some kind—another powerful figure in the medical field. It was essentially a well-known fact that Chloe had been born into all kinds of privilege, intelligence and money being only two of them.
It seemed that a stable family life was not on the table.
“Are you okay?” Beca asks instead of the million other questions she wants to ask. It comes out softer than she intends. More delicate.
Chloe nods, but otherwise doesn’t respond before turning to face Beca again.
“It’s just hard being twenty-five and all of…” she gestures vaguely around the kitchen. “This.”
“Are we going to go to the store?” Beca asks hesitantly.
Chloe bites her lip. “You think I shouldn’t,” she assesses. Correctly, too.
“Chloe, it’s—” none of my business “—up to you. I’ll just do whatever you want me to do.”
The more serious conversation that needs to be had likely doesn’t involve Beca at all, if Chloe’s mother has an alcoholism problem. She feels badly enough that Chloe has to go through this on top of likely being embarrassed that Beca saw anything at all.
“Is it weird that I kind of wish we were studying right now instead of this?” Chloe asks, sounding more cheerful than the expression on her face belies.
It isn’t weird at all, Beca thinks. “Show me your room,” Beca suggests instead of the thousands of more appropriate things she could possibly say at that moment.
It seems to do the trick however because Chloe smiles.
  — — x — —
 “How is tutoring going, Beca?”
Beca struggles to swallow the huge gulp of water she had just taken while maintaining eye contact with Chloe’s intimidating father. “It’s…” she clears her throat. “It’s going well.”
“And Chloe isn’t giving you any trouble?’
Beca glances at Chloe who has gone rather still. “No, she’s been a model student.”
To Beca’s surprise, he scoffs. Chloe continues to say nothing, but begins to push her food around her plate. “Can you believe that she’s been in school for seven years and she still doesn’t have a degree to show for it? And to think that she graduated high school early. All that potential...”
It’s the beginning of a rant if Beca’s ever heard one. Beca blinks back the sudden sharp sting she feels behind her eyes, the hurt she suddenly feels on Chloe’s behalf. “That really doesn’t mean anything,” she says before she can stop herself. She glances at Chloe’s mother who has not said a word. She merely swirls her wine glass and gazes despondently at her own plate.
Dr. Beale’s gaze cuts to her and she quickly looks back down, feeling chastised. “Your father is a professor, is he not?”
“Yes,” Beca says to her plate.
“He worked hard to get to where he is, didn’t he?”
“I’m sure he did, but—”
“And I guess he doesn’t want you wasting your time. He doesn’t want you wasting your life. You’re set to graduate aren’t you?”
“Uh, I—”
“Wish I could say the same for Chloe here,” he says lightly like he’s sharing a splendid joke. Beca clenches her fist in her lap.
Chloe sighs loudly.
“You know, Chloe,” Chloe’s father says, swirling his glass. Whiskey, probably, Beca notes. “If you tried a little more, maybe you wouldn’t be such a fucking disappointment.”
Beca startles at that, not expecting such harsh words in such a calm tone. She looks up hesitantly, eyes flicking back and forth between Chloe and her father. It almost feels like she had imagined the moment because Chloe continues to move food around on her plate and her father continues to hold his gaze intently on the side of his daughter’s head, arched eyebrow and a precariously-held glass of amber liquid to the side.
It’s surreal to say the least. Beca would have never imagined this moment happening.
“It’s literally just two classes, Chloe,” her father continues. “Two classes and you can stop sucking money out of us like a damn leech and actually do something worthwhile with your life. You already have a damn job ready for you, but you refuse to step up to just take it.”
It’s hard to imagine that these words are coming from the mouth of the man who had been such a generous giver to their school—the same that many students aspired to be. Atlanta, while not small or tucked away by any measure, was still no New York or Los Angeles. Yet thousands of students still flocked to their school and city for this very reason. This man, berating his daughter in full view of his daughter’s tutor.
Beca swallows.
Beca tries not to think about Chloe’s bright smile, helping children through dance steps at the studio.
She tries not to think about it because this isn’t any of her business. She tries not to think about it because she’s just a tutor.
A friend, maybe. A tutor, definitely.
“I’m sorry,” Chloe says quietly, a far cry from every version of Chloe Beale that Beca has been privy to thus far.
Chloe’s mother sniffs at her glass—white wine—and sighs before taking a long drink.
Beca isn’t supposed to be privy to this at all, she’s sure of it. She isn’t supposed to feel so fiercely protective over a student she’s meant to take money from so she can finally get out of this town. So she can finally move to New York. So she can finally make music which people care about.
She isn’t meant to care about what Chloe thinks of her music—isn’t meant to feel guilty for taking money for a job she does well.
This is all temporary.
  — — x — —
 When Chloe texts her to meet her at the diner, Beca heaves a breath. She thought Chloe was hellbent on ignoring her after that episode at Chloe’s house—horribly awkward and horribly tense. Chloe hadn’t spoken to her the rest of the time in her bedroom while they worked through a calculus assignment...except when she had quietly asked Beca if she wanted to have sex.
Beca had politely declined, not really feeling like taking advantage of Chloe in her state, but Chloe’s lackluster response, her quiet acquiescence, had been enough for Beca to quickly pack her things up.
Before she left, she hovered awkwardly by Chloe’s shoulder and felt like she ought to kiss her on the head or hug her.
Instead of doing either of those things, she had squeezed Chloe’s shoulder and half-heartedly murmured a goodbye with the promise to text her to set up another session.
And it ended up being Chloe who texted first anyway.
Now, sitting in front of Chloe, Beca realizes that she had missed her over the past few days. The past few days of not seeing Chloe’s infuriatingly innocent smile (a smile usually paired with something suggestive—suggestive enough to make Beca balk and completely fumble with her pen) had taken more of a toll on Beca than she expected.
It was because she was invested in Chloe as her student. Her tutor-subject-person. That was it.
“Hi,” Beca greets when Chloe takes out a novel and her notebook. “Are we...what are we doing today?”
“I thought we could just have breakfast for dinner,” Chloe says simply. “Then you can pretend like you enjoy tutoring me.”
It’s said so lightly and casually that Beca almost doesn’t catch it. “Hey,” she says finally. “That’s not true. I don’t pretend like I enjoy doing anything.”
Chloe relaxes and giggles. “Sorry, I just…” she sighs and shrugs off her leather jacket. Beca tries not to look at her bare shoulders. “It’s been a lot. With...you know. Especially around this time of year.”
“We don’t have to talk about it,” Beca says.
And with that, they don’t speak, at least for a little while. Beca orders a burger and coke because it amuses her to see Chloe’s furrowed brow when she chastises Beca for not ordering breakfast as per ‘tradition’ at the diner. Chloe orders a stack of pancakes bigger than her head.
It is not until Chloe is halfway through the pancakes and Beca is halfway through looking at Chloe’s recent homework assignment that Chloe speaks again.
“I had an older brother,” Chloe says quietly.
It is absolutely not what Beca expected to hear. The word choice isn’t lost on Beca. She slowly puts down her pencil and watches Chloe from across the booth.
“Okay,” she murmurs, gently as to not scare Chloe off.
“I...his name was James, but I called him Jamie. I guess most people did, except dad. And mom when she was mad at him.” A thought seems to bring a smile to Chloe’s face. A fond memory, Beca hopes.
A part of her wants to reach out to hold Chloe’s hand, but the more rational part tells her that Chloe would more than likely shut down if she did that. She sits on her hands to resist the temptation.
“I...we were close,” Chloe continues before clearing her throat. “I don’t know, I guess he kind of accepted that he would always work for dad’s clinic. He was in his second year of med school when he…” Chloe hums, looking thoroughly embarrassed at her own tears and hastily averts eye contact with Beca. “It was an accident. I was almost done with my last year here. I’ve felt stuck this whole time.”
What did you want to do? Beca longs to ask, she doesn’t get the chance. The words die in her throat when Chloe looks back up at her.
“I don’t want to work for my father,” Chloe murmurs. “He’s not the best person but I know he’s still family. I just...I can’t do it. I can’t see myself giving up my life like that. But not doing what Jamie was working towards feels like cheating his memory a little. Even though I know he wouldn’t have wanted that for me either.” Chloe laughs hollowly. “With how many extra years I’ve taken on here, I could have two degrees. But I just don’t…” Her voice cracks. “I don’t know how to leave.”
“I’m sorry,” Beca says when she realizes Chloe is spent. “I...don’t know what to say. I didn’t know about your brother. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t really talk about it,” Chloe admits. “Aubrey knew because we were best friends when it happened, then she graduated and I guess I just...didn’t. It’s been a few years, but I still think about it. I guess I can’t forget about things as easily as my parents can.”
“I’m sure they didn’t forget about him,” Beca tries to say, but her voice feels weak and unused.
“Well, they’re doing a good job of making it seem that way.” She smiles wryly. “Didn’t see any family photos in my house, did you?”
Beca shakes her head, mouth too dry to speak. She wants to do nothing more than to slide into the seat next to Chloe and hold her—to at least sap some hurt away for the time being even if temporary solutions are barely sufficient for something like this.
Beca conceptually understands that people deal with grief differently, but the cold air in the Beale house had been unmistakable and immediately-apparent. She doesn’t say as much however because Chloe is right and nothing more needs to be said.
“Chloe,” Beca murmurs instead. She has no words, not really. It’s clear that Chloe is hurting—or had been at least. This impromptu study session in the dingy 24-hour diner just off-campus isn’t quite turning out how Beca initially expected.
Chloe shrugs. “I don’t...expect you to say anything. I know I’ve been kind of sucky the past few weeks and...I didn’t want you to think that it was…” Chloe licks her lips nervously, finally meeting Beca’s eyes. “Well...nothing that you did.”
Beca smiles at Chloe’s attempt to comfort her when it definitely ought to be the other way around. How are you real? She thinks to herself in wonder. “Want to know a secret?” Chloe nods, a curious look finding its way across her face. “I totally know you’ve been faking it, you know.” At Chloe’s incredibly confused expression, Beca fumbles with her napkin. “Not—not like that. I know you’re uh. Not. Faking that.”
“All those smarts and you can’t even say sex.”
“I meant,” Beca continues, pushing through the hot flush that burns across her cheeks. “That I know you’re faking this whole...not knowing calculus thing.”
Chloe smirks. “What gave it away?” she asks, the air between them losing some of the heavy feeling and tension.
Beca relaxes. Grades and homework, she knows more about. How to deal with Chloe flirting with her? Not so much. “Just...the blatantly wrong way you go about writing out some proofs. It really takes somebody who knows what’s going on to get every step wrong. Or, you know, getting all the steps right but getting the final answer wrong.”
Chloe casually leans up to flick some hair out of her eyes, taking the opportunity to swipe at her own eyes as discreetly as possible. Beca pretends not to notice and looks intently into her glass of Coke as the moment passes.
“Okay, fine,” Chloe concedes. Beca glances up to see that Chloe looks entirely too pleased with herself. “But the sex is still good, right?”
  — — x — —
 Yes, the sex is still good, Beca thinks. If thoughts could breathless, that’s exactly what’s happening in Beca’s mind as Chloe’s tongue does sinful things between her legs.
If somebody were to tell Beca when she entered college that she would thoroughly enjoy having a girl’s tongue between her legs, flicking incessantly at her aching clit, she would have run away screaming. Or at least blushed furiously to the point of passing out.
Now, she still feels on the verge of passing out, but for entirely different reasons. Better reasons. Now, she can’t imagine doing anything but tightening her grip in Chloe’s hair and keeping a steady enough hold so that Chloe can’t stop.
Not that it seems like Chloe has any plans on stopping. Her hands grip Beca’s hips with near-bruising force as she presses Beca’s hips down into the mattress.
“So good,” Beca chokes out, trying to loosen some of the pressure in her chest. Another moan escapes her and as if the sound pleases Chloe, she hums, circling Beca’s clit once with a precise tongue before latching on with her lips and sucking.
Beca cries out, arching her back against the pressure and comes hard against Chloe’s lips, tongue—her wonderful, wonderful mouth.
When she regains some semblance of sanity, she opens her eyes to Chloe smiling at her, glistening chin and all.
“You’re so good at that,” Beca murmurs lazily. “I want to be good at that for you,” she says before she can stop herself. Words keep slipping out of her mouth at an alarming frequency these days.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll teach you,” Chloe promises. “Later,” she murmurs, leaning down to capture Beca’s mouth in a lazy kiss. Her hand skates down the flat planes of Beca’s stomach, taking its time.
Later, Beca thinks when Chloe pushes two fingers into her. Later sounds perfect.
  — — x — —
 Somewhere down the line, Beca realizes the devastating truth that Chloe might actually be one of her closest friends. Jesse’s still there, sure, but everybody’s gearing up to leave. Beca wants to go to New York. Jesse wants to go to Los Angeles.
Everybody leaves eventually.
But somehow time feels like it doesn’t quite exist when she’s lying in her cramped bed with Chloe by her side, calculus all but forgotten.
“My mom died when I was a kid,” Beca murmurs, leaning up on her elbow so she can see the invisible figures she’s tracing on Chloe’s back.
Chloe’s eye cracks open, visible just barely beneath a mess of tangled, red curls. She sucks in a breath, but says nothing more, so Beca continues.
“I don’t really remember her. I mean, I guess I do. I have these memories of my favorite hugs. A soothing voice. But it never really feels tangible.”
Chloe rolls over slowly, breathing steadily as she continues listening intently. Beca feels nervous suddenly. “I’m not...I guess I was just thinking about what you told me about your brother. And I’m not trying to say I know exactly how you feel, but it’s just...I do get it.”
“You do get it,” Chloe whispers in agreement. Her eyes look softer than usual. “I...thank you for telling me. I’m sorry that you lost your mom.”
“I don’t think we ever really know how to deal with grief,” Beca explains quickly. But it helps having other people to share it with. “But I just thought I’d share that too. Not to, um, take away from your...pain, but just...”
As always, it seems like Chloe fares better with words than Beca does. “We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to,” Chloe says gently. “But I don’t mind hearing more about her.”
Beca sucks in a breath. Chloe looks incredibly young then. Like all the world’s traumas have lifted from her shoulders in that moment—that moment of her extending her hand to Beca in a show of support. It makes Beca giddy with a kind of childlike delight, but also sweeping pain. As the two emotions war within her, she can do nothing more than to reach out and hold Chloe’s hand—figuratively, but she does reach out to brush an errant strand of hair from Chloe’s face.
“I know talking helps,” Chloe continues when she realizes Beca is yet to speak. “Not letting their memories fade away. I don’t...want that to happen to me. And I don’t want that to happen to you.”
I wish I knew you back then, Beca thinks forlornly. Three years ago. Two years ago. Any time but now, when their time is so limited.
“Okay,” Beca agrees quietly, already slipping into a sleeping state.
You are so much more than you know.
“You make me better,” Chloe murmurs. “I hope you know that.”
  — — x — —
 Jesse Movie night w/ Amy? Benji had to bail
Beca Ugh fine
Jesse Bring your girlfriend
Beca My what?????
Jesse Chloe?
Beca What the fuck, she’s not my gf
Beca Shut up, i can hear your smirk But shes really not, jesse i swear
Beca ok i can literally hear you laughing across the library idiot
  — — x — —
 Fat Amy Bumper told me tell you that jesse told him that you have a gf and you’re not sharing her with the rest of us
Fat Amy Is she that super hot chick you’ve been tutoring and totally-not-at-all sleeping with?
Fat Amy Beca???
  — — x — —
 Maybe they are kind of dating—kind of, sort of dating. Beca’s sure unlabeled things are all the rage these days.
(“All the rage?” Beca asks. “Who says that?”
Chloe scowls at her, somehow making the unpleasant expression more pleasant than it ought to be on anybody’s face. “Shut up, I’m studying.”)
But, the fact of the matter is: They’re not dating. They’re not dating, which is why Beca agrees to go with Chloe to an end-of-semester party. Exams are almost entirely over and Beca’s confident Chloe passed this time around.
The shift between them and in Chloe’s general attitude are stark changes. Beca would have to be blind not to notice.
But the fact is, she isn’t blind. She can’t be, not when Chloe makes her want to pay more attention than ever.
Though sometimes she kind of loses track of Chloe - where Chloe loses herself in her own her head, or loses herself to the masses. It’s hard, crushing on Chloe Beale, only daughter of Doctor Richard Beale, an incredibly intelligent and powerful medical researcher with his own medical research corporation to boot.
It’s hard, knowing all of that weighs on Chloe’s shoulders and Chloe seems to want no part of it.
But tonight, Beca loses Chloe at a literal party, which would be funny if Beca’s own heart weren’t doing that super weird pounding thing.
She’s nervous.
Beca finds Chloe outside of all places. It is odd considering Chloe was the one who asked her to attend the party and then she had essentially hidden herself away.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Chloe, still leaning against the railing of the balcony, tilts her head back towards Beca. “I’ve been waiting for you to come find me.” She grins. “Gotcha.”
“Oh,” Beca drawls, feeling bold. It’s the alcohol coursing through her veins. It’s the brisk chill. It’s the high she gets from being near her crush. “So you planned this,” she continues, moving so she can stand just behind Chloe. She leans forward, letting her lips ghost the side of Chloe’s neck.
Chloe sighs, a happy little sound with only a tinge of melancholy. Beca draws back immediately, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. She drops to sit against the railing opposite Chloe. “I’ll just…”
“Don’t be.” Chloe twists to face her. “It’s really dumb, but I had a big crush on you for like...the entirety of my second senior year.”
Beca freezes. She gazes up at Chloe’s silhouette in the darkness. “You what?”
“I had a crush on you,” Chloe says simply.
“But why? And how?” And you had a crush on me? Past tense?
Chloe sighs. “I don’t know, I guess I had seen you around when you were a freshman, but I knew you better because we had the same Advanced Topics in Philosophy seminar that year. You did not strike me as a philosophy major.”
“I’m not,” Beca replies distractedly. Her brow furrows as she combs through her memory for some kind of enlightening flash of red in her mind’s eye. A memory of sorts.
“I sat like right at the back,” Chloe clarifies.
Beca scoffs. “So did I. I would have remembered you.”
Chloe looks exceptionally pleased at that. “You would have?”
“Obviously, I mean…” Beca gestures at her. She feels nervous suddenly, like the ground is shifting beneath her feet. “Look at you,” she mumbles quickly. “You’re gorgeous. And like...super hot.”
Chloe’s smile dims a little. “Haven’t I heard that before,” she mutters, turning away from Beca.
Beca scrambles from her seat, moving to where Chloe is standing by the railing. She feels numb, suddenly, like she’s missing something crucial. It’s hard to think with the budding headache she feels, the rush from standing up too fast, and the incessant music from the party going on behind them.
She reaches out to touch Chloe’s elbow before she really knows what she’s going to say. Chloe turns her head slightly to face her.
“You’re so pretty,” Beca murmurs, keeping her eyes trained on Chloe’s expression. “But—but—” she quickly reaches up with a trembling hand to cup Chloe’s jaw, the tender movement stunning Chloe into silence as she opens her mouth to protest. “You’re so much more than that. You’re kind and you’re special and I know you’re insanely smart even though you feel like you’re stuck in this…” Beca shrugs. “I would have remembered you.”
She isn’t sure how she gets through all that because her body feels kind of numb afterwards. She doesn’t have much of a chance to say anything more however because Chloe is turning and swiftly pulling her in for a soft, tender kiss. The way her lips brush against Beca’s so gently and slowly, despite the urgency Beca feels in the grip Chloe has on her waist.
“You drive me crazy,” Chloe murmurs, breath hot against her mouth. “You make me feel all these stupid things that I shouldn’t—not now when we’re—”
“Shh,” Beca shushes, pulling Chloe in again for another kiss. She is addicted to this woman, all professionalism be damned. “I just want to be with you.”
Beca has no idea where any of this is coming from, like all the unwritten lyrics she has to the songs that remind her of Chloe Beale. They well up inside her like the best and worst emotions, quickly spilling out into the world; quickly spilling into the minuscule spaces left between her and Chloe’s body.
Chloe whimpers into her mouth at that, immediately ramping up the intensity of her kisses. Tilting her head, her tongue glides delicately over Beca’s lower lip like a gentle request for entry. Beca can’t deny her, not once.
“I saw you once,” Beca murmurs, pushing back against Chloe’s chest slightly. Their breathing, labored, is loud and deafening against the ringing in Beca’s ears. “In my freshman year, at the activities fair.”
Chloe laughs, a sad, hollow laugh, and presses her forehead against Beca’s. “You should have said hello. I feel like you would have somehow made collegiate a cappella fun.”
“I was too intimidated. I’m still intimidated.”
“Don’t be,” Chloe urges, voice low and hoarse. “I...want you so much that it scares me. And I feel like such an idiot for not telling you sooner. I’ve never felt like this about anybody before.”
Beca inhales sharply, struck by the sudden force of Chloe’s words and the emotion behind them.
“Somewhere along the line I—”
Beca knows what Chloe will say. It unlocks a world of possibilities, each more uncalculated than the last. The possibilities, with Chloe, seem endless, but they are unexplored and untested. Unproven.
“Don’t,” Beca chokes out, cutting Chloe off before she can finish. “I can’t, not now.”
Chloe pulls her close, into a hug that Beca immediately sinks into. She sighs, head tucked against the crook of Chloe’s neck, feeling all kinds of warmth for the first time since December started.
“We’ll figure this out in the morning,” Chloe promises, voice thick with emotion.
Right, Beca muses as Chloe’s lips meet hers again. Because we have all the time in the world.
She really believes it.
/end ch. 3
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feverwritingandtextposts · 6 years ago
Note
Can I please have a part two to the Kyōjurō x reader (shinjuku station)? I loved it so much I would be forever grateful if there was more to the story! Please and thank you!🥺😭💖💖
Thank you for reading my work! It took me a while to write this bec i was waiting to be ~inspired~ lmao. I hope you like it. Tell me if you do, defo tell me if you don’t LOL
This was also posted on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21695521/chapters/52314919
Festival
"I have an idea of what we can do this weekend!" Rengoku yells, straight into the delicate inside of your ear.
You look up from the printer, peering at him warily. Here we go again.
After the first somewhat confusing whirlwind of a date, the two of you settled into a comfortable tandem of letting each other take turns to pick date activities. You had brought him out for ramen, and he took you to a sumo show (and then out yelled everyone else in the stadium), you took him for lunch in the park, and he took you to an escape room (in which he got too excited and ended up ripping the handle off the door, which got the both of you yelled at by the staff), and so forth.
This week, it was Rengoku's turn to decide.
Rengoku had spent the majority of this week bombarding you with what he calls 'perfect date ideas'. You had absolutely no idea where he was even getting these suggestions from, or if he had always been compiling a list of his own.
You'd never admit it out loud, but anything with Rengoku, despite how god awful it may sound, ends up ridiculously fun. His good-natured unquenchable enthusiasm and encouraging spirit made any situation exciting, and you loved it.
Although, you had boundaries.
"It's oil wrestling! It'll be a great test of spirit!"
"Watching or doing?"
"Doing!"
"Absolutely not."
Rengoku seemed to deflate for a moment, and you almost felt bad. Almost.
Making her way over to you, Kochou Kanae hums her agreement as she gathers her stacks of fresh handouts from the printer. "I don't know... Oil wrestling doesn't seem very romantic Rengoku-san. What about going to a haunted house instead?"
You sigh softly to yourself. It was bad enough that you had to fight off Uzui's repeated attempts to 'help' you and Rengoku's budding relationship, but now it seemed that everyone in the staff room wanted to meddle.
You still haven't fully recovered from Tomioka's suggestion to 'exercise' as a great date idea. You've never ran so many laps of a track field before, and never want to again.
Rengoku folds his arms, considering her suggestion seriously. "That sounds great Kochou-san! But I don't know of any haunted places in the area!"
Kanae smiles at him, excitement twinkling in her eyes. Fishing in her pocket for her phone, she proudly shows Rengoku a compiled list of 'Tokyo's Most Haunted Getaways'. Before you could pull the both of them (and their horrifying plans) apart, Himejima comes up behind you, huge frame blocking out the light.
"Sorry to interrupt..." he begins, looking not very sorry at all. "Have you all submitted your class' necessary forms for the school festival?"
At that Kanae titters, bustling back to her desk to pick up the forgotten forms while Rengoku, ever the star employee, nodded in reply.
Rengoku follows you to your desk as you try to locate the forms, looking deep in thought. "Why don't we go to the school festival then?" he suggests brightly.
"As in... on a date?"
Rengoku grins. "Of course! It'll be fun! My class is hosting a haunted house, it will be perfect!"
You couldn't help but smile at his excitement. You couldn't imagine any of the lively students being anything close to scary, but you were sure it would be fun regardless.
---
"Welcome," says a frazzled looking Aoi, standing at attention behind the little ticket counter.
Rengoku greets her cheerfully, his voice ringing loud even in the noisy hallway. His bright hair and brighter smile fit in perfectly with the excitement of the event. It seems to do nothing to lift her dismal mood though, as Aoi only sighs out her reply.
It was only eleven, but the festival was already in full swing; the usually rowdy students driven uncontrollably raucous with the lively atmosphere.
You can imagine why poor Aoi was already looking like she needed a ten hour nap.
"Look lively, Aoi-san! The festival has just begun!" cheers Rengoku, passing her a can of milk tea from the giant bag of treats he bought at the convenience store just before. You carry a similar bag of goodies, the two of you wanting to motivate your respective classes as they work through the  festival.
Aoi sighs, far too weary for one so young, popping open the tab of her drink as she complains. "Inosuke won't keep to his scare area! He keeps jumping around, and Tanjiro leaves his scare area to put him in his place! Zenitsu keeps whining that it's not fair that he has to watch couples go by the haunted house or something, and its driving me nuts! Rengoku-sensei, can you please talk to them?"
You wince, inwardly thankful that your class was easier to handle. Rengoku booms a laugh, feeling none of your apprehension or Aoi's tired annoyance at his misbehaving students.
"It sounds like they're fired up today huh!" he chuckles, as Aoi rolls her eyes. He hands over the tickets for her to take. "We're going in Aoi-san! I'll talk to them while I'm inside!"
Aoi perks up at that, nodding as she rushes to the door, peeking her head inside to yell at the scare actors to get ready. At her nod, the two of you walk inside, pushing aside the heavy black curtains as you move into the cramped, dimly lit space.
It seemed like the students had set up makeshift walls, covered in fake leaves and cloth, creating a narrow route that winded through the class room space. Lit only by lamps, the outside light blocked out with what was probably more curtains, they managed to make what seemed to be a decently convincing, forest-like atmosphere. It was an impressive feat for a bunch of high school students with no theater background and even less of an attention span, and you praised them to Rengoku who hummed loudly in agreement.
You pressed close to Rengoku's arm to walk side by side, and you feel him fumble around until he located your hand, squeezing it gently. Was it even acceptable to be holding hands while you two were in school? Ah well, it's dark enough that it shouldn't be a problem.
The first bend brought with it the first scare actor, the student's rustling the only sound that permeated the room. With a half choked "WAGHH!" Tanjiro leaps out at the two of you, teeth bared and arms splayed. Dressed in what seemed to be a werewolf costume, he had two little brown ears peaking out in small brown tufts from his messy red hair, and brown paw gloves. He looked... too adorable to be scary.
Still, you pretend to be scared for his benefit, letting out a small "WAH!" of your own, but quite unable to keep the smile off your face. Tanjiro seems pleased enough with it. Rengoku laughs loudly, reaching over to clap him on the shoulder. "Kamado my boy!" he grins, letting go of your hand to rummage through his bag for another canned drink, "Excellent yell! Your fierce spirit really shows through! Here take this, and keep it up!" Tanjiro looks pleasantly surprised to be handed the drink, his "YES! THANK YOU!" loud and sharp like a soldier.
"I didn't expect you to come by, Rengoku-sensei, nor you (Y/N)-sensei!" he chirps cheerfully, not even bothering with keeping up his 'scary' persona in front of his teachers. "I would not miss a chance to cheer on my students!" proclaims Rengoku. He says it loudly enough that an excited murmur goes through the fake walls, probably from the other scare actors listening in. You smirk up at him. Rengoku was as popular with the students as ever.
Tanjiro grins up at him, seeming to get more pumped up by Rengoku's words. As he moves to go back to his hiding spot, he turns to you. "Ah! (Y/N)-sensei, be careful! I know you're not good with scary stuff, and our haunted house is pretty scary," he says, smile dropping in worry for you. You had no idea how he even knew you weren't fond of horror, but you doubted a bunch of students would be very scary anyway. Still, you smile encouragingly at him, but before you can reassure him of your bravery, Rengoku cuts in. "Do not worry young Kamado! I will protect her!"
You stare at him in disbelief, embarrassment colouring your cheeks in a hot flush. How does he even say things like that with a straight face? Tanjiro doesn't seem as embarrassed to hear it as you are, instead nodding at him very seriously.
The two of you leave Tanjiro, continuing down the dark hallway to the loud, snip snip sound of what was unmistakably scissors. Out from the darkness lopes out a giant set of garden shears, clipping shut way too close for comfort. You jump back in shock, and Rengoku takes a step forward, half shielding you and squeezing your clasped hand in comfort. The boy wielding it stepped out into the light, tear stained cheeks glinting.
"Even YOU Rengoku-sensei?!" cried Zenitsu, snapping the scissors a few more times for effect. He might have had more polished makeup at one point, but his tears had long smudged the white powder and black eyeshadow, making him look even more ghost like. His next words came out nearly indistinguishable, choked and warbled with tears but you picked out "unforgivable" and "punishment".
Rengoku seemed startlingly unconcerned by Zenitsu's behaviour, still grinning his manic smile down at him. In fact, he seemed almost impressed. "Incredible, young Agatsuma!" he cheers, fist pumping. "You have really gone above and beyond for your role! You are absolutely terrifying!"
At the (misplaced) compliment, Zenitsu's grief seems to clear. Immediately the tears stopped, replaced by a giddy bashful smile. "Heh, sensei do you really think so?"he asks, bouncing in his place and cuddling the giant pair of shears at Rengoku's affirmative hum. "I only did what I could," Zenitsu says, rubbing at his nose in an attempt at humble nonchalance.
Rengoku's grin, lit with the glow of the lantern, was blinding. Passing the boy one of the canned drinks, Zenitsu accepts Rengoku's praise happily, nearly skipping back into his hiding spot as the two of you went past. You had absolutely no idea if Rengoku had planned that entire exchange to calm him down, or if he truly thought it was all just Zenitsu's acting skills.
The two of you barely made it three steps away from Zenitsu before something came barreling down the path, knocking over the props, lamps and even a few walls before launching itself at Rengoku. Amid the chaos of the thing's growling roars and Rengoku's booming laughter, you could make out the boy's boar head, furry pants, and telltale lack of shirt and shoes. He would have been pretty scary in his own right if you, and most of the school hadn't seen him prowling the school in that same ridiculous headdress. He had gotten so excited over how 'cool and badass' it looked that the moment Aoi was done fashioning it a few days ago, he refused to take it off.
"SENSEI!" Inosuke roared, voice not diminished in the least by his mask. "BE AFRAID OF ME! COWER!"
Rengoku laughed even louder in response, grin threatening to split his face even as he wrestled with the boy. "Wonderful, Hashibira my boy! I can feel your passion burning stronger than ever!"
Inosuke barks out a laugh just as loud as Rengoku. "Praise me more! I'm FAR scarier than Monitsu and Gonpachiro!"
"I don't know who those people are!" shouts Rengoku. "But you are amazing in your own right Hashibira! I'm proud of you!"
You flutter around the two of them, pulling at their arms in a futile attempt to stop the impromptu wrestling match. Luckily, as quick as it started, Inosuke decided that he has had enough of trying to overpower and outshout Rengoku. He seemed very satisfied with Rengoku's praise, giggling happily to himself. From behind him, a few of the other scare actors emerged, upset that Inosuke had destroyed half the room's arrangement in his conquest. From behind you, you could hear Tanjiro yelling at him, voice audible even over the din of everyone shouting at once.
The chaos took a while for Rengoku and you to settle, and once everyone calmed down enough to start clearing up the area, you dragged Rengoku out of there, realising it will be better for them to work without Insouke trying to start a new wrestling match every few minutes. Rengoku left the rest of his treats with Aoi who promised to hand them out to the rest of the students on shift.
"So, wasn't it scary?" asked Rengoku, beaming down at you. You didn't really think scary quite covered the mayhem in that room, but you DID have a lot of fun, and tell him as much.
The two of you decided to stop by your classroom next, and you breathe a sigh of relief at how quiet your class is in comparison. Honestly, it was a silent reprieve in the midst of the festival's commotion. The dango the two girls manning the front of the store glistened enticingly in the light, and (to no one's surprise) Rengoku ended up purchasing nearly half their ready stock.
Nezuko thanked you for your treats with a muffled sound of appreciation, mouth stuffed with dango. You wondered faintly if she was selling the food or eating it, but Makomo beside her assures you of their good sales regardless.
Setting off now unburdened with treats but arms full of delicious dango, the two of you made your way through the stalls with Rengoku pausing every few steps to hand feed you his dango. Perhaps it was the cheerful mood of the festival, but you found yourself less embarrassed by the public display of affection than you would usually be.
The two of you strolled around, arms interlinked, enjoying your food, the giddy feeling of Rengoku's full attention making you feel like the two of you were in your own world. That is, until you heard the whistle.
Sharp and blaring it sounded right behind your heads, causing the both of you to jump. Turning, you stared right into the steely blue eyes of Tomioka, his characteristic frown setting him apart from the happy festival goers.
"Tomi-" Rengoku began, raising his arm in greeting before Tomioka blared his whistle again.
"Please maintain a sufficient amount of space between each other whilst on school grounds," he says, voice flat and serious. He jabs his ever present bokken at your linked arms, tapping until you unwind yourself from Rengoku. Rengoku's eyes widen even more than usual at Tomioka's intrusion. Although his smile remains ever present, the slight furrowing of his brow is the only indication of his true feelings.
Rengoku booms a laugh, slapping the bokken away from the two of you. "It's a festival, Tomioka-san! I'm sure its alright to be a bit lenient today!" Rengoku shouts cheerfully.
Tomioka doesn't seem in the least fazed, tapping his wooden sword against his shoulder in a flat, yet strangely menacing manner. "I disagree. Rules are rules, Rengoku-san. Please understand, we are teachers, we must maintain-"
"I understand!" you say, cutting off what was sure to be a rambling speech. "We'll be more careful."
Tomioka eyes the both of you, dubious, but finally he assents, nodding sharply before striding off immediately to hassle a student couple.
You moved to continue walking before you feel Rengoku grab your hand again. Eyebrow raised, you turn to him. "Tomioka just said that we can't be too close in school right?"
Rengoku grinned, blinding. "He did, indeed!"
"Then why?" you question, looking pointedly at your linked hands. At that Rengoku leans closer, cupping his hand around his mouth as if to whisper.
"He's not looking at us now," he says, voice still too inappropriately loud for a whisper. You turn to watch Tomioka smack the male student over the head with his bokken, presumably for talking back to him. For a second, you wondered if he'd smack the two of you for daring to disobey the rules even after a warning. You didn't doubt it.
As if sensing your thoughts, Rengoku's smile pulls wider, playfulness twinkling behind those burning sonic eyes. "We'll be sneaky."
In Rengoku's defence, he tried his best.
The two of you strolled around, hand in hand, dropping away from each other at the first sight of that messy black hair and worn blue tracksuit. It became nearly a game, greeting Tomioka's suspicious gaze with the most innocent expressions the two of you could muster (you, holding in giggles, and Rengoku, even louder with anxiety). Whenever he left, the two of you would stick together like magnets, the situation making you two even more touchy than usual, giggling your heads off like teenagers.
But in all honesty, Rengoku wasn't built for any sort of sneakery, and it wasn't long before the two of you heard the telltale blare of the whistle. It was the only warning you received before you spotted the gym teacher barreling down the crowded hallway, whose participants parted immediately, terrified of Tomioka's already swinging sword. You sighed, ready for the inevitable scolding, before you felt Rengoku tighten his grip on your hand, tugging insistently at you, as he turned to run down the hallway.
Too shocked at the sudden chase scene to say a word against it, you allow yourself to be dragged down the hall by a madly laughing Rengoku, his voice matched only by the repeated blares of the whistle. Students and festival goers threw themselves out of the way as Rengoku shot down the hallways like a burning blaze.
Stumbling along after him, you let him pull you into the space beneath the staircase, his laughter cutting off as he struggled to be quiet. Covering your mouth, he pulls you in close, the two of you trying to stay as quiet as possible as you hear Tomioka thunder past. The two of you stayed tense and quiet for a few moments more before Rengoku lifted his hand off your mouth, allowing you to properly catch your breath.
"You!" you begin, accusingly. "He's definitely going to scold us later!"
Rengoku looked appropriately chagrined, his grin looking almost sheepish. Humming softly to himself he thinks over your words. "Then, let's not leave this spot!" he says, hair bouncing as he visibly perks up at the thought of staying in the dark dusty staircase. You snorted at his antics, letting him drag you down, tucking you neatly against him as he sat down.
You lean your head against his chest, cuddled in his arms as you try to calm your heart back down after the impromptu marathon. Rengoku nuzzles his face into your hair, and the both of you sit in comfortable silence for a while. It's a welcome change after the chaos of the festival.
Rengoku, you knew thrived in that madness though, so you ask him when he'd like to return to the festival.
"Hm," he says, and his voice is uncharacteristically soft, making you turn to stare at him. He smiles, gentle, and he looks surprisingly sleepy, as if cuddling under dusty staircases was his perfect idea of a nap. "I realise," he murmurs, and it makes you wonder if this is what he's like in the early mornings, or the eaves of the night, when his perpetual fire (if ever) dims for rest. "I haven't gotten you all to myself all day... Let's stay like this, for a little while longer."
You smile back up at him, securing yourself more comfortably in his lap. It certainly wouldn't hurt to relax here a bit longer. You'll just have to hope Tomioka forgets about his scolding by the time the two of you get back.
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