#performing romantic gestures throwing her on beds and things and such

[lesbianshadowheart]

I love the way Glinda copies Fiyero…..’our first fight’->’let’s not quarrel’, the flower in hair move, the way she copies his moves in the Dancing Through Life scene. you knowww she wants to find the prettiest girl and give her a whirl

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 19: The One Where I Perform Mis-Directed as a Three Act Comedy, Act II

“Before you started the bumpers cars act, for the record unless you’re eight years old trying to make your dolls kiss, smashing your teeth together is not an ideal approximation of romance.”

“And [Hattie’s] gaze fell to [Anthony’s], felt as if somehow it was attached to his, as if there were filaments between them hooking together every time their glances connected.”

“Maybe there had already been the faintest glimmer of this horrifying attachment even then. His first steps on a map to a very unexpected destination but somehow it still felt as if there’d been no warning at all. As if a thousand insignificant moments and incidents had quietly woven together until one day he’d turned and he’d fallen and he’d been caught by a net of those impossibly unbreakable threads which he hadn’t realized existed.”

“…[Anthony] was not a touchy-feely person… But when he and Hattie, when their characters had kissed each other into the wall, he’d almost purred against her like a damn cat.”

“It was a closed set this morning so thankfully a very minimal number of crew personnel…On the flip side, the team reserved this level of set closure, basically a skeleton crew, for only the most explicit scenes and semi-nudity.”

“But she never had to worry in the past about being more involved in the dance than she ought to be. Not once had she arranged herself in a castmate’s arms and felt as if they were doing something truly, genuinely intimate…"

“Quite clearly the issue here was her scene partner and the potential for an amped up repeat of what had happened last time. Hard nipples, damp thighs, and a heart trying to burst out of her chest, all from a fully clothed screen kiss. This time, they’d both be all but naked, writhing on a bed, gasping, grinding, sighing.”

“This mattress feels very sturdy.”

“The moment Iris bounces him into the mattress in episode 8..."

“If millions of people were going to watch her ride Anthony like a mechanical bull…”

“Stevie pointed at the ornate mirror near the bed. Her gesture a spectacular symphony of sarcasm. ‘As your pre-seduction routine appears to involve a great deal of hair flicking and smokey glances at yourself, have at it.’”

“Are you looking for something?”

“‘Falling buckets,’ Hattie said. ‘Or collapsing bedframes or beams coming loose…’”

“…when the floorboard beneath [Anthony’s] boot performed a preemptive strike. The wood tilted inwards, just enough to throw off his footing…and his full body weight surged forward. She could see later in hindsight that he had attempted to both shield her head and not crush her underneath him…"

“Anthony landed on his knees with a painful grunt but had barely hit the floor before he was at her side, touching the back of her head and her shaking shoulders. She just had time to register a little too much cool air on the backs of her thighs, then he was smoothing her skirts down protecting what remained of her dignity in an automatic gesture.”

“’Gentle, this bit,’ [Stevie] said. “Romantic, soft.”

“But in the ways that mattered, especially in the context of an intimate scene and the scripts that they all dreaded most, he’d been surprising. If she wanted to expand into the territory of actual truth, he’d been the most confusing, unsettling, and fun scene partner she’d had in four years.”

“They were still holding hands. They realized this simultaneously and let go immediately.”

“’She’s my baby,’ [Cassidy] explained as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘The first thing I ever treated myself to with my own money, and she’s been with me for the whole crazy ride.’ She patted the gear box fondly. ‘I could never part with Penelope.’”

When discussing the underdog love story on Leicester Square, Hattie commented, “If she were a viewer, she’d be shipping them hard.”

While Anthony and Hattie were looking at gravestones, one caught Hattie’s eye…

“The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.”

While reminiscing about growing up, Hattie recalled, “...her mother reading aloud to her from a battered old copy of The Magic Faraway Tree.”

“’Do you remember the day we first met,’ [Hattie] asked suddenly."

“In all honesty, no. His early days on various TV and film sets had all blurred into an archived jumble of long hours, interchangeable costars, despised hotel living. As difficult as it was to imagine now, he had no distinct memory of the very first time he had ever seen Hattie. Although, he might have a vague recollection of earrings shaped like miniature garden gnomes. He did, however, have a crystal-clear memory of the first time he’d actually seen Hattie with all that the emphasis on that word implied.”

“She’d obviously read the ‘no’ in his expression, and her smile widened.”

“’It was a Tuesday morning at Malvern Abbey.’”

“And now she felt excessively wrong sharing close whispering breaths with Patrick especially with Anthony sitting on a folding chair a few meters behind the camera awaiting his queue to slip in for the daydream portion of the scene, and currently watching their every move. His pose was typically lazy, one boot crossed over the other, his fingers tapping on the arm of the chair, but he hadn’t looked away from them once. Something in his demeanor had the usually easy-going Patrick antsy as hell, probably the twitching eyelid.”

“’A definite improvement,’ Stevie’s voice came from behind them, very dryly. ‘And if we’d actually started shooting yet, we could probably call it a day.’”

[27emailsicantsend]

Chapter Four: Nighttime Adventures

December

I guess high school never ends. You sure got a lot to say, when you're talkin' on my name. You sure got a lot to say, but did you tell them everything? Oh, and when you dance with the devil, the devil's gonna dance with you. Oh, and when you play with fire, the flame's gonna burn you, too. Starting rumors, it's nothing new, yeah... She said, he said, she said.

-”SHE SAID HE SAID SHE SAID”, Joshua Bassett

Red was laying on his bed, throwing a hacky sack up and down lazily. Ricky ushered him home after getting shakes with the other theater kids. After giving Gina a quick kiss on the cheek (met with many teasing noises from the theater crowd), he told Big Red they needed to hang out. Ricky knew if he would have framed it as a “want”, Red wouldn’t have agreed.

So, when the two finally got back to his place, Ricky sat on the large chair in Red’s basement and demanded Red to tell him what happened. Red wasn’t hard to get to talk. He flopped backwards on his bed and came clean about what was making him so woeful at the restaurant.

“We broke up. For good this time,” Big Red lamented.

“How... how soon did this happen?” Ricky was hoping Red wouldn’t say what he was worried about him saying... Ricky was wrong.

“Right before Gina’s performance”. Really? Ricky thought. Ricky recognized how painful that must have been; Red watching Ricky make this large romantic gesture right after Red had just broken up with his girlfriend. The same girlfriend that he promised he wanted to be with for good over the summer.

“I- I- am so sorry, Red. I don’t-” Ricky stuttered.

“Know what to say,” Big Red finished Ricky’s sentence. “It’s ok, I figured you wouldn’t. I just appreciate you being here”.

Ricky knew Big Red wasn’t saying anything vindictive, but somehow he still took Red’s sentiment a little negatively. 

Figured I wouldn’t know what he had to say? Ricky wondered. Why do I struggle so badly with words? They’re just words.

“H-How did it happen?” Ricky was desperately wishing he could just be there for Red, but Red’s comment made his struggle to help more apparent. It was like his brain was full of a deep fog and helpful words were floating around, but every time his hands grasped for one, the words dissolved.

“Ashlyn,” Red sighed, holding the hacky sack this time instead of letting it fly. “She said she wanted to figure things out with me, with Maddox, and partially with herself. She said she couldn’t explore her feelings honestly in a committed relationship”. Red sat up, still looking glum as he gave the hacky sack tiny squishes with his thumb and forefinger. “I appreciate her being truthful, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t sting”.

Ricky sat on the bed next to Red, putting an arm around his shoulder. “You’ll find someone,” Ricky said before pausing. He remembered something that might be helpful for Red to hear, “all in due time”.

Red met Ricky with a “thanks” and then asked to play some video games. It was apparent Red was done talking which made Ricky relieved. He wanted to help Red where he could, but he knew he could distract Red easier than talk it out. Ricky knew that just being there with Red was what really mattered to him. Ricky grabbed a controller and tossed it to Red; both boys playing Halo for the rest of the night.

The next week was a weird, wonderful, scary, exhilarating, disaster. As much as Ricky knew Gina and him being public would cause a lot of tension, he wasn’t prepared for how much attention. People they didn’t know were acting like they had been best friends for years, he had tripled the amount of followers and comments on his social media and Gina had about quadrupled hers, they had to lock the entire school down for filming so paparazzi wouldn’t show up and take photos (this still happened with the original cast filming there, but it got worse when Ricky and Gina became publicly official), Ricky was receiving random “hate” notes in his locker, and neither Gina or he could walk around in public anymore without someone feeling the need to comment on their relationship. Ricky was right, Gina did receive a lot of comments about her being a “cheater”, but he also received comments about being a “homewrecker”. Ricky and Gina loved being able to hold hands and kiss freely around their friends, as well as date publicly, but their fantasies continually broke as the public crowd would often invade them.

Ricky knew he needed a break. His life had felt nonstop since the beginning of the year and he was about to collapse under the pressure. Zac insisted they walk around the halls and sing “Scream” together to help Ricky sort out his stress, but Ricky just thanked him and said he had other plans. He was going back to Chicago to see his mom.

Ricky invited Gina to come, but Gina also recognized that with the overbearingness of Dani, her tight schedule, trying to see Ricky when she could; she had rarely been around her mom, something she looked forward to so much since Ms. Porter had moved back. Gina figured this was a good opportunity to spend some time with her mom. So Ricky found himself on a solo flight to Chicago.

When Ricky finally landed, Lynn welcomed him with open arms. He told her how bad he felt about the last time he saw her... spending so much time wallowing over Nini and ditching her; he wanted to make it up to Lynn. So they spent Friday night and all day Saturday exploring the city like Lynn had originally planned last year. The pair took a lot of photos, ate way too much pizza, and Lynn even bought Ricky several new clothing items. Surprisingly, Ricky only got noticed a couple of times in public, and neither of the notices were met with hostility. They were compliments on Gina and Ricky as a couple, as well as asking if he knew if there would be another documentary again soon. 

The entire experience felt surreal. Ricky hadn’t felt this at peace in months. It was like he had forgotten to breathe and now he was getting all of the fresh air the world had to offer, savoring every last bit of it.

When Lynn and Ricky got back to her apartment, they set down all of their shopping bags on the floor and headed toward the living room to watch a Christmas movie. They sat on opposite ends of the couch before Lynn flicked on the TV and began to scroll through different streaming channels. As she was scrolling, she nonchalantly asked Ricky, “so, what are your Christmas plans for Gina?”

Ricky felt all of that fresh air leave, suddenly unable to breath again from panic. Gina. Christmas. He had gotten so wrapped up in the insanity of November that he completely forgot about getting her a Christmas gift. Ricky remained quiet. As per usual, he didn’t know what to say.

“You didn’t get her one?” Lynn answered her own question.

Ricky looked into his lap and began to play with his fingers. He knew he needed to get her something, but his mind was coming up blank.

“Ricky? Why not?” Lynn didn’t ask this accusatorily, but more concerned.

“I-I don’t know. I wanted to get her a guitar because it’s something we’ve been doing together, but dad said no,” Ricky said, still fiddling with his hands.

“I think your dad was right on that one. Guitars are-”

“-Expensive, I know,” Ricky intercepted Lynn’s thought, feeling half-irritated. “And don’t ask me to get her a pick either. I’m not going down that road again”.

Lynn sighed and hit her thighs with her hands. “Ok,” she said as she shuffled her way over to Ricky’s side of the couch, placing an arm around him. “Then let’s get her something wonderful”.

“Like what? I tried asking my buddy, Jet, but he was absolutely no help. He just went off on some tangent about ‘love languages’,” Ricky gestured in frustration.

“Maybe Jet was right?” Lynn shrugged. “Do you know what Gina’s is?”

“I think it’s gift giving? At least, that’s what Jet and I deduced last time we talked”.

“And why is that?”

“Because,” Ricky blushed, thinking about his conversation with Gina after the documentary promo. His mom didn’t need to know every detail Gina said about the hat. “She knitted me a hat... and she got very excited when I gave her chocolates,” Ricky said the last part quickly. He knew Lynn would embarrass him over the hat if he spent too much time talking about it.

“A hat?! She made you a hat?! That is the sweetest thing ever, Ricky! Do you still have it? Can I see it?” Lynn gushed. Too late.

“No, mom. You can’t,” Ricky concluded followed by Lynn pursing her lips. “Let’s just think about what I could give her. Luckily, because it’s gift giving, as long as she gets a gift she’ll be happy, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Lynn rubbed her hand on his arm in a comforting way. She could tell Ricky felt frustrated. “Sometimes,” she pulled one of her hand-knitted blankets across both of their laps, “it’s about the meaning behind the gift. I really think the guitar could have been a good idea because of what it meant to you both. But you know your father couldn’t afford that”.

“Sometimes it feels like we can barely afford a box of cereal,” Ricky replied sarcastically. “I would get a job, mom, but everything Miss Jenn has us doing is keeping me so busy-”

“Ricky, hey, it’s ok” Lynn said calmly as she pulled his chin up with her hand, smiling sweetly at him. “I know you’re busy. I just mean, maybe we need to think a little outside of the box. What is something that is really important to Gina?”

Lynn moved her hand and Ricky looked down at the blanket, now fumbling with it instead of his hands. 

Ricky responded, “Well... she likes dancing, singing, learning things on YouTu-” That’s it, Ricky thought. It was like Ricky was struck by the most brilliant idea he’d ever had. He knew exactly what to get Gina.

“What?” Lynn asked confused. 

Oh, right, I’ve got to say it out loud, Ricky remembered.

“She knitted me that hat, mom! You know how to knit. Do you think you could help me make her something?”

“Well,” Lynn laughed, “we only have one day left together, so I probably couldn’t help you finish it. I could, however, teach you so you can finish it on your own time”.

Lynn and Ricky began to toss ideas around what to make Gina. They thought about also making her a hat, or maybe a cute ornament, or even a keychain, but Ricky wanted it to be something Gina could wear, so Lynn and he collectively decided on a scarf. She hurried to where she keeps her knitting supplies and let Ricky pick out the yarn. He chose the same colors Gina made the hat: maroon and burnt orange. Then, Lynn and he spent the rest of the night and the next day in scarf making lessons. Luckily, Lynn was letting Ricky take any supplies he needed home with him, so he felt like he could finish the scarf in time.

Ricky continued to work on the scarf on the plane, when he got home, and later on that night. Just as Ricky was finishing up his portion of the scarf for the night, he received a call. He looked at the ID, a picture of Gina making an adorable pouty face in a mirror.

“Hey cutie!” He answered, so excited to finally hear from Gina after not talking all weekend.

“Do you have a minute to talk?” Gina sounded worried.

“Of course? What’s going on?” Ricky put the scarf down instinctively, a sense of protectiveness starting to course through him.

“It’s Dani,” Gina said apprehensively.  

Gina began to explain that Dani was making Gina’s life even worse. All week she had been making fun of her in the halls, making threats that she was going to destroy everything Gina owned, and try to get her kicked off of the dance team. Gina explained feeling so helpless in the situation, which only illuminated Ricky’s protective side. He was furious at Dani.

“Are you kidding me?? That’s not ok, Gina! No one should ever talk to you like that, regardless of the circumstances. I’m going to go find her right now and tell her to back off-” Ricky fumed.

Gina jumped in quickly to stop him, “-Wait! Ricky, don’t. It’s not worth it... I’m calling you because there is more. I think she’s making fake social media accounts to cause more trouble. I’ve already had three news sources asking to talk about my ‘lingering feelings’ for EJ and why I would ever choose someone like you. They said they got videos of me saying I was still head-over-heels for EJ and just want him. And I never, ever said that. Please Ricky, you have to believe me,” Gina begged.

Ricky did believe Gina. He didn’t believe that snake.

“How do you know it’s her for sure?” Ricky pressed, making sure they had the right suspect.

“Because one of them actually sent me a video and it was me during dance. I was talking to another girl about how I still had lingering feelings for you at camp and was wondering why I ever chose EJ. I think she cut the video and manipulated it to make it sound like I was talking about you both in reverse. I’m so sorry... I didn’t know this would happen...” Gina trailed off.

“Gi, you don’t have to apologize to me. I believe you,” Ricky reassured her. “Let’s keep living our lives the best we can for now until we can come up with a plan to get her to stop. Have you gotten something to eat? Any sleep? What do you need?”

“No, I’m exhausted. The problem is, I am so on edge over all of this, it’s making it hard to sleep. Ricky, I just want to be with you,” Gina requested.

“Be right over”. Ricky said, hanging up his phone and throwing on his coat. He was pretty sure he heard Gina say, “wait, what?” before he hung up, but he wasn’t going to let her talk him out of helping her. And Ricky knew she would try. He didn’t want her to feel bad for needing him.

Ricky walked up to Gina’s two-story house. It was white and plain, blending in with the surrounding homes. The porch light was on, reflecting some snow covered rocks below the main windows. Ricky grabbed a handful of them, wiping the cold moisture off of them onto his coat. He then went to the side of the house and unlatched the fence, making his way to the backyard where a balcony stood boldly above him. The balcony was connected to her room, another balcony on the opposite side of the house connected to Mrs. Porter’s room. He saw Gina’s light on and then her figure pacing around the room.

He took a rock in his hand and threw it at the window. It met the glass with a loud, “thump!”. Gina looked over but shook her head and continued to pace. Ricky threw two more rocks, thump, thump. He saw Gina walk over to a chair near the door and grab her coat laying on it. She walked onto the balcony, looking like a cozy winter dream in her coat and pajamas.

“Ricky? You’re going to wake the neighbors! What are you doing he-” she whispered loudly at him, now having approached the banister.

“I came to help you fall asleep!” Ricky’s volume matching hers.

Gina smiled as she rolled her eyes. He knew she wouldn’t be mad. He took her eyeroll as the signal to make his way up to her balcony. There was a large tree next to where she was standing, the perfect distance for him to get to her. So Ricky scaled up the tree, hopping over the edge once he reached her.

“You know I have stairs?” Gina said sarcastically, looking a little like Ricky with her raised eyebrow.

“Didn’t want to wake the neighbors,” Ricky said with a wink before making a cocky walk into her room.

Gina’s room was bigger than the average, but not filled tight. Ricky was sure this wasn’t just because of the size of the room, but also the little amount of items Gina had from moving so often. He looked happily around the room at her bed, filled with old stuffed animals, flattened pillows, and Rina, the monkey. He noted a chair in the corner, a large moon shape holding a fuzzy blanket. He saw some clothes piled around a laundry basket, the basket sitting right beneath a corkboard. On that corkboard was her ribbon from last Thanksgiving pinned to it. Ricky gave the ribbon an acknowledging half-smile.

Gina walked up to Ricky, wrapping her arms around his waist. He met her back with a tight hug around her upper arms as he rested his head on hers.

“So, how are you going to help me sleep?” she muffled into his chest. Ricky gave her a peck on the forehead, before giving her another tight squeeze. 

“Just get into bed, you’ll see,” Ricky prompted.

Gina threw off her coat and excitedly ran to her bed, jumping on it before getting under the covers and propping herself up on one arm. Her smile was full of innocence and kindness; Ricky couldn’t shake how horrific Dani had been to someone as incredible as Gina. Ricky handed her Rina and then pulled the chair up next to her bed from the corner of the room.

“Do you have a favorite story?” Ricky asked.

“The Chronicles of Narnia,” Gina replied, eyeing her bookshelf. “But you can’t read that all to me in one night, Ricky”.

Ricky got up and examined the bookshelf, grabbing The Chronicles of Narnia off the second shelf. “Good thing you need sleep every night,” Ricky lovingly joked, sitting down in a chair. He saw Gina’s cheeks start to flush.

With a proud look on his face, Ricky opened up to page one and began reading. Gina snuggled in, hanging onto every word until eventually she fell asleep. After Ricky was sure she was sound asleep, he walked over to her and kissed her head- giving her a gentle whisper good night. He followed this by turning off her lamp and making his way quietly out the same way he came in.

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

The next two weeks leading up to play felt like a whirlwind for Ricky. Every day more and more tabloids began to reach out to Ricky and Gina, trying to discover more ways to publicize errors in their relationship. Ricky and Gina both knew it was Dani in disguise, but she seemed invincible. It seemed like every time they shut one of her accounts down, two more popped up in it’s place. Luckily, the only time they had to see Dani was at rehearsal for High School Musical 3, because dance was on pause until January. And Ricky thanked his lucky stars “Martha” didn’t have much of a role in the play, so time with Dani was limited.

Ricky also found himself trying to make ends meet with other aspects in his life too. He was trying to knit his scarf for Gina, be available for High School Musical 4 scenes, rehearse on his own time, and see Gina. Another lucky star he was grateful for was The Chronicles of Narnia, because he had an excuse to see Gina each night. Every night for those two weeks started the same: he would finish up a small section of the scarf, scale the tree outside of Gina’s house, and then read her to sleep. 

After one particularly long day, a few days before the play, Ricky was putting on his pajamas after finishing another section of the scarf. He was planning on going over to Gina’s soon, but he received a knock at the door. 

“Gina?” he said, puzzled to see her standing at his doorway. It was 10 at night, her pajamas were on and her hair was up in a curly, messy bun. She looked adorable with her nose being slightly pink from the cold.

“Hey,” she said, giving him a soft smile.

“Hey! Come in, it’s cold out,” Ricky said, gesturing quickly at her to get in the house. “I thought I was coming over to your house?”

“I know that’s the plan, but plans changed,” Gina said eagerly. Ricky could sense she was up to something and he was right. “Get your coat on, I’m taking you somewhere”.

Ricky laughed saying, “your wish is my command”. He took his coat off the rack, zipping it up when he heard his car keys jingle. Gina was shoving the keys in her coat pocket with a scheming grin.

“Hey now, where are you going with those, young lady?” Ricky teased.

“You’ll see,” Gina said slyly. 

The pair walked outside before Ricky felt a little sense of panic. Gina had never driven his car before. She has her license, but this was his car. Red gave it to him when he got a new car, since Ricky drove it around so much. Red would kill him if it got wrecked.

“...are you sure you can drive my car?” Ricky hesitated.

“It’s an automatic, Ricky,” Gina countered, her voice dry.

“Right,” Ricky resolved. 

Once he saw Gina get into the driver’s seat, he felt his worry ease up. Someone that pretty couldn’t be bad at driving, right? Ricky thought to himself.

Wrong. Gina sped fast down the road, not taking care for speed bumps, ran at least one stop sign, and she forgot to turn her lights on until about five minutes in when Ricky reminded her. But even Ricky surprised himself when he realized he wasn’t mad or scared- he was exhilarated. Driving fast, not being sure if they would hit ice, defying every rule society had made for cars, the adventure felt wild and new. He liked not caring what others thought and just enjoying the moment with Gina by his side. It was an enlightening, thrilling, rush that he didn’t want to slow down.

But, alas, the couple made it to their destination, which meant the joyride had to slow down temporarily. Ricky looked at their surroundings of where Gina had pulled up. He saw trees, dirt, and no other sign of living. They were outside a forest. Ricky started to get heavy Déjà vu from the Woman in the Woods.

“Uh... Gi? What are we doing out here, exactly?” He said, slowly unbuckling his seatbelt. Gina was already outside her car door.

“Afraid of adventure, Ricky Bowen? Are you a chicken?” Gina mocked outside the car, now standing in front of the passenger side.

“In your dreams,” Ricky said as he got out. He rushed over to Gina, aggressively tickling her waist. Gina giggled and squealed under Ricky. Once she was able to worm her way out of his grasp, she grabbed Ricky’s slightly sweaty hand (she didn’t say anything) and led him into the woods with a “c’mon!”

Gina found a path that was actually meant for night hiking. It had lights leading the entire way up, with signs in neon colors that made it easy to navigate. It was cold, but surprisingly not so cold Ricky couldn’t handle it. Or maybe the adrenaline was keeping him warm- he wasn’t sure. 

Ricky and Gina headed up the trail together.

Most of the bushes and flowers were stick like, the last leaves hanging on. The trees folded around the couple, enveloping them like a heavy shadow. They heard an owl hooting in the distance, as well as the branches and spots of snow crunching under their feet. The two of them didn’t say much for awhile, as they walked together peacefully in silence. Being hand in hand with Gina made this adventure surprisingly easy for Ricky. His fear seemed to wash away each moment he was with her.

“Maybe this is what our characters felt like,” Gina remarked, finally cracking the silence.

“What do you mean?” Ricky could feel his brain scanning for any connection to the woods, cold, and Gabriella and Troy.

“Kristoff and Anna? When they went hiking in the woods it was cold. I wonder if this is what they felt like, Gina pondered. 

Duh, thought Ricky.

“Isn’t it funny we get to be leads again?” Ricky smiled to himself.

“Ricky, you’re the lead every year,” Gina said, her tone dry once again.

“I just mean with you, Gi. It’s so nice getting to be leads with you again. It’s making my senior year worth it...” Ricky couldn’t bare to finish his thought. He’d been trying to bring up that he might not stay close to home for college. He’d been thinking about the adventures being outside of Salt Lake might bring, knowing he had never really explored outside of his own home until summer camp. Ricky still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but every time he got close to talking to Gina about it, it was like his mouth was sewn shut. He just couldn’t get himself to speak... about any of it.

“...I’m glad,” Gina had waited a second before speaking, but when she did she stopped to look at Ricky, not releasing his hand.

“I’m a little worried about ‘Can I Have This Dance’, though”, Ricky said, thinking about how uncoordinated the practice attempts had been. Every time they practiced, either Ricky had two left feet again, Dani would try to intervene on Gina’s choreography (Gina got to choreograph this number), or Miss Jenn would stop rehearsal just as Ricky was starting to feel like he got the dance down.

“Maybe we should practice it one more time?”

“Out here?” Ricky said, his eyebrow once again positioning itself high on his forehead.

“Yeah, out here. No one else has been around since we started up this trail...” Gina noted, letting go of Ricky’s hand. She took her phone out of her coat pocket and set it on the ground nearby. She tapped it a few times before the music to “Can I Have This Dance” started to play. She stood back up, holding out her hand as she sang:

Take my hand, take a breath

Pull me close, and take one step

Ricky took a deep breath as he decided to trust Gina. The two began to dance along to the song, but Ricky couldn’t seem to trust himself. He began to fumble his footsteps, as Gina kept steady through the first verse. He stayed concentrated on his toes, watching his every move diligently.

When Ricky and Gina finally sang the line “wherever we go next”, Ricky took a major over step and almost messed up the entire dance. He had been paying so much attention to his feet, that they seemed to stop listening to him completely. 

Gina took Ricky’s chin and lifted it up to her face. “Ricky, trust me,” she quietly urged him before the chorus. Maybe he hadn’t been trusting her. He tried again.

They continued to dance, with Ricky now refocused only on Gina’s eyes. He was able to gather his thoughts more clearly which helped him to finally grasp the movement of the dance. It was like he had been seeing the steps the whole time, but now he was finally using them. 

Ricky was able to take the lead by the time Troy took the lead in the second verse. Around the end of the verse, Ricky saw a fleck of snow hit Gina’s cheek. He moved it away with his thumb and softly said, “snow” before the next bridge started.

The two danced and swayed around the forest, improvising moves around the trees and stumps in their pajamas and winter coats. It was like everything from the dance had finally clicked and they were moving together in harmony now. Every lift, spin, and turn were performed with grace; the dance elegantly twisting through the woods. The entire moment felt beautiful and simple, a metaphor for Ricky and Gina.

About the time the dance was ending, the snow began to fall heavier and heavier. It wasn’t rain. It was better. Richer, more vibrant, and more spectacular. The snow came down in large flakes, covering the bushes and trees quietly and quickly. Ricky placed his hand on Gina’s face, softly running his thumb back and forth across her cheekbone. He couldn’t think of a prettier sight as he watched the snow fall into her hair and down her face. Light snow dusted her eyelashes and nose, falling every time she blinked her large brown eyes. Ricky leaned in, his lips finding rhythm with Gina’s. It was soft, exhilarating, and wonderful as he felt completely connected to Gina. It felt like he had melted into one with Gina, thinking her same thoughts, feeling her same heartbeat, and letting gravity do the rest. In this moment, Ricky forgot about the rest of the world. Gina was what was right with his life and he never wanted to forget it.

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

The night of High School Musical 3: Senior Year had finally arrived. Maddox and Ashlyn were helping each other get ready, Carlos was freaking out because he lost Chad’s basketball, Seb was trying help Miss Jenn calm down before the show, and Jet was combing out Kourtney’s hair.

Of course, Jet and Kourtney waited until the worst possible minute (as usual) to announce that they were now going to tell the world they were dating (”if Ricky can humiliate himself in front of the whole world, then I guess I can share my relationship with my favorite human” Jet said, standing protectively next to Kourtney). They shared their news right when Natalie gave the “ten minutes to opening” call. 

Jet and Kourtney were a sweet couple to Ricky, but Jet was definitely a male-wife. If Kourtney asked him to jump he would say, “how high, what building, and do I need to bring anyone?” It seemed ridiculous to him that anyone could literally drop their entire life for their partner with a single bat of their eyes.

“Ricky?” Gina called him from backstage. She was on one side adjusting her microphone while he was on the other, running lines with Emmy.

“Yes, dear?” Ricky said, running over immediately to Gina.

“Will you go get my dance shoes? They’re in the dance room. I left them there after our dress rehearsal the other night. I know we only have a few minutes until we start and you and I are on stage fir-”

“-Absolutely. On it.” Ricky interjected, running out of the stage with no hesitation. He bolted his way toward the dance room, which sat at the end of the hallway from the theater. As he approached the room, slowing down his sprint to a walk, he began to hear a familiar voice. 

“I know, Gina is so annoying. I’m hoping what we sent those tabloids will get rid of her for good,” the voice said coolly. 

Ricky walked up quietly to the door, edging his way, so Dani hopefully wouldn’t hear him.

“Well, I don’t care that the play is almost here. I want her finished,” Dani hissed. Ricky thought about how she really was a snake. “She is taking up too much space on my stage! She literally got Gabriella, a part I had been working on for so long. I hope this article hits her where it hurts... yes, of course I made it up! You really think she would have done half of that stuff? Please. I just want her gone”.

Ricky wished he had been recording. This was firm evidence that Dani was the one who had been sending in those fake articles. Dani sounded like a villain, voicing the next steps to her evil plan. Ricky decided that if she was going to be the villain, then he was going to be Gina’s hero- serving Dani some justice. 

He considered jumping in and catching Dani in the act, but Ricky realized that catching her would only be his word against hers. He checked his watch. He had about 2 more minutes until theater prayer circle. Dani walked out of the room, not noticing Ricky still pressed against the door.

Ricky skipped into the room, searching quickly for Gina’s shoes, realizing he didn’t ask her where they were. He thought that maybe in the process he might be able to find some incriminating evidence against Dani as well. Ricky saw some lockers stacked on the other side of the room, all without locks. He began to open the top doors until he got to the third one where he located Gina’s shoes. 

As Ricky went to close the door, his eye picked up on a polaroid of Gina and him holding Rina, next to another polaroid of the entire cast. Ricky realized no one at school knew they were together during Gina’s time rehearsing for dance, but she still risked it anyway with photos like this. Ricky couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

Ricky quickly grabbed the shoes and raced out of the room, only to bump hard into someone- nearly knocking the breath out of him.

“Zac??” Ricky said, puzzled. While the school had been... decent about being around a celebrity constantly, the play was open to the public. He thought for sure Zac of all people wouldn’t be there. He was genuinely surprised to not see a bunch of fans gathered around Zac in the hall.

“Little Zac!! What are you doing here?” Zac asked excitedly.

“Uh... It-It’s opening night? I’m playing Troy? Your character?.... Remember?” Ricky wondered how Zac functioned sometimes.

“I knew that, Little Zac,” Ricky took back his last thought. “I just meant outside of the dance room. Isn’t the show starting in like, five minutes?”

“Right. Got to go!” Ricky started to run again.

“Hey, Little Zac!” Zac called out behind him.

Ricky didn’t have time for this. 

“Yes?” Ricky said, slightly annoyed because he needed to go.

“Good luck out there. I’ve been really impressed by you. I couldn’t think of anyone else I would want to play Troy. I came to see you,” Zac revealed.

Ricky froze. A twinge of guilt hit as he thought about how he treated or thought about Zac. He didn’t realize Zac thought so highly of him. The whole moment caught him off guard.

Ricky turned around and gave Zac a quick “thanks,” before picking up his pace and running back to the theater. He rounded the corner to the backstage, nearly taking his arm off as he grabbed the door frame to swing him in.

“Told you guys he’d come back!” Gina exclaimed, before smiling softly at Ricky. “He always does”.

Miss Jenn ushered everyone into the prayer circle. Ricky handed Gina her shoes to which she neatly tucked under her right arm, and then used her left hand to lace her fingers with Ricky. Ricky used his free hand to grab Red’s on the other side. 

Ricky turned his face to meet Red’s for a second, they both smiled at each other understandingly. Red seemed in slightly better spirits tonight. Ricky just hoped it would stay that way.

The show went even better than Ricky thought. There was a massive crowd due to fans of the documentary and the new movie coming out, so much so that many people had to be turned away because there wasn’t enough room in the auditorium. Ricky and Gina perfectly captured “Can I Have this Dance”, Ricky’s acoustic version of Right Here, Right Now made Gina cry on stage, and each person performed their character as though the part was made for them. Miss Jenn felt bad about turning people away for the show, so she told the theater crew she was adding an additional show during intermission. Dani also surprisingly kept to herself the entire night- probably because she was so worried about her own performance she didn’t have time to harass Gina. Overall, Ricky was very happy about how the show went.

After the show was over, Ricky went to talk to his dad and get the red roses that he had been holding onto to give to Gina. Ricky grabbed the flowers and thanked his dad with a hug, making his way to the green room where Gina would likely be reapplying her makeup. 

Ricky’s intuition was right- Gina was sitting at a vanity, applying some lip gloss to her wide grin. She looked sophisticated, happy, and proud... the warm feeling Ricky had felt with her before was returning again. He just felt so good seeing her happy.

“Hey you,” Ricky said, wrapping his arms around Gina’s shoulders. She placed her hand on his, before Ricky reached his head around and gave Gina a kiss.

“Hi, Ricky Bowen... or should I say Troy?” Gina flirted back. She patted the roses. “What are these for?”

“My Gabriella,” Ricky said as he handed her the roses. He pulled up a chair and sat next to her.

“Thank you, Ricky,” Gina said with a satisfied head tilt, inhaling the scent of flowers in the plastic bag. She set them down on the vanity and began to reapply her lip gloss again. “Where to next?”

Just as Gina asked, Ricky heard a voice in the hallway. No- make that two voices? His head perked up as he sat in silence, trying to investigate where they were coming from. Gina could see that he was distracted by what was happening in the hallway. She leaned her head in a little to listen to the conversation was well.

“I’m sorry, Dani. We’ve been filming for nearly two months now, there’s not really a part we can give you,” Zac said, slightly irritated.

“But I worked so hard for this! You saw me up there, right?” Dani whimpered.

“What’s done is done. I’m sorry,” Zac settled.

Ricky gave Gina a suspicious look as he said, “I think the hallway?” 

Ricky grabbed Gina’s hand before they ran out to where Zac and Dani stood. Zac looked frustrated and Dani seemed distraught. Ricky wondered how long Dani had been begging him for a part in the movie. Something felt like this hadn’t been the first time.

“Hey guys!!” Zac perked up before hugging Ricky and Gina. “Great job- both of you- I am so beyond impressed. I couldn’t think of a better Troy and Gabriella”.

“Thanks,” Ricky and Gina said simultaneously.

Vanessa Hudgens walked up behind Zac, a slight smirk on her face. Ricky had no idea she had been at the play this whole time. He saw her a few times on set, but he spent so much time trying to get away from Zac that he never really talked to Vanessa. He was touched they both came out to see Gina and him reprise their roles.

“Did you ask her yet?” Vanessa prompted Zac, nudging his arm with her hand.

“Ask me what?��� Dani must have concluded that the question was about her.

“Not you,” Vanessa said- the tone coming off more aggressive than Ricky expected. “Her,” she nodded her head to Gina.

“Me? What about me?” Gina seemed puzzled.

“Well, you know how we have that one last dance number for the movie? The one where we are thinking we’ll need two choreographers because it has so many parts?” Zac asked Gina.

“Yes. Have you guys found another choreographer yet?” Gina asked, still clueless. Ricky knew where Zac was going with this though and he felt like he was going to burst from the seams; he was so excited.

“We want you to be the co-choreographer,” Zac said with a massive grin.

“Me?” Gina’s eyes widened as her face lost some color. She shook her head, as though it would snap her out of the fantasy. “Me?” She repeated.

“Yes! Will you do it? Please?” Vanessa pleaded.

“Are you kidding me?!” Dani exclaimed furiously. Ricky could see the red filling her face. “I have been begging for a month now to have a part in this and you give it to her? She’s not even the captain of the dance team! I am! The youngest one to date!”

“The youngest one to date because you blackmailed Gina for the part?” Zac asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Wha-What are you talking a-about?” Dani stuttered.

“You see,” Zac began, pacing around Dani, Gina, and Ricky. “I overheard Ricky and Gina talking about you when they were carrying in waters to the dance room one day. They thought they were alone, but I had just finished practicing a dance for one of our numbers, needed to use the bathroom, and was making my way back to the dance room. I didn’t go in, figuring it was none of my business, but Gina seemed upset so I made it my business. After hearing their conversation, I started to put pieces together and had a little chat with the dance teacher. She said she chose Gina for dance captain, but then for some ‘strange reason’, Gina gave it up and decided to take backstage? That seemed odd. Then I realized the entire conversation between Ricky and Gina was about you Dani. And you want to know what? Blackmail sucks and so do you”.

Ricky thought Zac would stop then because he took a dramatic pause, but Zac continued to talk and pace. 

“But then, I thought, why not give you the benefit of the doubt? Maybe they were making it up or maybe I was overthinking the entire thing. Until I literally heard you confess what you’ve been doing in the dance room before this show.

“So, not only did you mistreat Gina for months and cause her to be overly exhausted at our movie rehearsals, but you also mistreated Ricky”. 

Zac took one more pause and then gave Dani the same eyebrow raise Ricky does and said, “And didn’t you know Ricky’s nickname?”

Ricky could see the sheer panic in Dani’s eyes as she replied, “No”.

Zac’s face turned callous. “It’s ‘Little Zac’, meaning I have a responsibility to him and his name. You’re done, Dani”. 

And with that, Dani stormed off down the hall.

Ricky had felt so annoyed with Zac for so long, that he was surprised how appreciative he felt for Zac. Maybe he wasn’t such a nuisance, after all.

Vanessa beamed with pride at Zac’s monologue. She turned to Gina and asked again, “so, will you co-choreograph for us? Please?”

“Absolutely,” Gina said with massive grin on her face. Vanessa squealed and gave her a hug before the two started talking nonstop about the details of choreographing the dance.

While the two girls chattered, Ricky walked up to Zac and gave him a sheepish “thanks”.

“No problem, Little Zac,” Zac said with a wink and arm tap.

“So...” Ricky lowered his voice so only he and Zac could hear. “How long have you been rehearsing that?”

Zac looked a little embarrassed but was willing to admit, “since after I overheard Dani in the dance room”.

“Did you at least watch the show?” Ricky asked, not surprised if Zac hadn’t.

“Of course I did! It’s called ‘Intermission’. I needed something to do while I waited,” Zac laughed. Ricky couldn’t stay mad at him, no matter how annoying he got sometimes. Zac felt kind of like an older brother. Ricky couldn’t help but laugh back.

Later that day, the theater crew for the play (excluding Dani, who understandably wouldn’t be there, and Miss Jenn, who was with Mike on their own date), went to the same Denny’s they had earlier to get some after-show milkshakes. A few people stopped the cast to get pictures and say hi, but the nothing that overshadowed their night out.

Ricky couldn’t help but think about last December, when he chose Nini over Gina. He felt a wave of regret for the past year and everything he and Gina had been through. So many times it felt like they would never be together, whether because of his choosing or hers. It was like the universe tried to throw every wrench it could into their relationship. But now, here he was, his arm around Gina Porter, clinking milkshake glasses with his best friends. His dad was in a good relationship, he had a chosen family, and somehow Zac Efron wanted to be his best friend? Ricky reminisced, feeling proud of last December’s show and how much it changed his life. He almost didn’t do that first show, but because of Gina, his life was entirely different in the best possible way.

Ricky watched his friends, happily relishing in the moment. He watched as Jet fed Kourtney a bite of his milkshake, Red talked excitedly to Ashlyn and Maddox (who Ricky felt like were going to date any time now), Seb fixed Carlos’ hair, and Emmy and Natalie were playing a game with the salt packets. Ricky kissed the top of Gina’s head.

“What was that for?” she asked, snuggling her head into his chest.

“I just can’t believe this is my life. I’m so happy”. And he really, truly meant it.

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

The next week, Christmas had finally rolled around. Ricky spent Christmas Eve with his dad and Miss Jenn playing games, watching movies, and eating more food than he cared to admit. On Christmas Day, Ricky went to Gina’s house. Unfortunately, Ms. Porter got called into work that day, so Gina was going to spend Christmas Day alone if he didn’t. Mike had Miss Jenn at his house, so Ricky didn’t feel too bad leaving his dad for the day.

Ricky gave Gina’s front door a few taps. She opened up the door gleefully. She was flaunting a matching t-shirt and shorts set of Christmas pajamas with gingerbread men dotting them. Her fuzzy slippers accented her slight bedhead (pulled back with a red hairband) nicely. Ricky couldn’t stop staring at how beautiful she looked.

Gina interrupted his daydream with, “so you chose the front door this time?”

“Neighbors don’t care during the day time,” Ricky sassed.

The two had made quite a bit of progress into the Chronicles of Narnia. Ricky was still sneaking over every night to read to Gina, so they were over halfway through with the book. Last night Ricky went over to read to her, but decided not to stay long since it was Christmas Eve and he assumed Gina wanted to be with Ms. Porter. Ricky was thrilled to be back with Gina again, finally seeing the Christmas pajamas she had been bragging about the night before.

Ricky and Gina spent the next few hours baking gluten-free Christmas cookies, watching The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (with Jim Carrey), and making paper snowflakes with kind messages to give their friends. Later on, while they were icing the cookies, they were listening to Christmas music. The song “Winter Dreams,” by Kelly Clarkson came on.

Ricky held his hand out for Gina, “Can I have this dance?”

Gina gave Ricky a dimpled half-smile as she placed her hand in his. Ricky spun her into his arms and then reversed her out, before readjusting her so that they were slow dancing in the kitchen. Ricky placed his hands around her waist, pulling Gina in close and then flopping her arms around his neck. She gently laid her head down on his shoulder as she played with her fingers in his hair. The two swayed back and forth like this for the majority of the song.

Once the song hit the second chorus, Ricky felt like he wanted to tell Gina how he felt about her. How warm she made him feel and how perfect and right every moment with her was. How every time she walked in a room, the room seemed to be showered with light and how she made even the dimmest ray of sun feel like it could brighten the entire Earth. How she made his darkest days feel like his brightest. How she had this ability to entrance him back to her over and over again. 

“Gina, I-,” Ricky started to speak. 

Gina lifted her head back to look at Ricky and pressed her lips softly on his. The room suddenly became quick sand, making him fall faster and faster within. He couldn’t steady himself from the rush he felt from her kiss. One touch from her was enough to make him lose focus.

“Yeah?” She asked as her face parted from his.

Ricky stared into her large, dreamy eyes. It was like they were swallowing him in. He couldn’t find the words to say. Again. He could only wonder what his inability to speak meant.

“I- I want to give you your Christmas present,” Ricky changed the subject. Gina seemed like she might have been expecting more, but she smiled as she nodded her head in agreement.

The two walked over to the fireplace, sitting down in front of it. Ricky handed her a misshapen package of Christmas paper and too much tape. Gina opened it excitedly to see a crooked scarf that matched the same hat Gina made him, which Ricky was now getting out and putting on his head.

“We match, see?” Ricky joked. Gina’s eyes began to water as she held the lump of scarf half-hazard in her arms. “I love it, Ricky Bowen. It’s perfect”. 

Gina placed the scarf around her neck before she said, “I’ll be right back with yours”. Ricky gave her an “ok” in agreement as he waited patiently downstairs, batting the tassels on his hat like a cat.

Gina came back down the stairs about five minutes later, Ricky’s guitar in hand and a small blue package wrapped with a neat white bow.

“What’s this?” Ricky asked, equally excited and puzzled at what Gina could be up to.

“Well, remember all of the times I’ve been coming over and learning guitar? I wasn’t just learning for fun. You seem to understand people best through song... so I wrote you one,” Gina replied with a shrug. 

Ricky’s heart played a disappearing act as he waited to hear her sing. Gina adjusted the guitar on her lap and began to strum a few chords. Gina then said, “This song is called ‘Never Let Go’” before she began to sing in a soft, melodic tone:

I’m wrapped in your arms,

tonight I hold tight, never letting go.

A feeling I can’t fight,

a soldier losing sight, it’s beginning to show.

I wished upon stars,

birthday candles left me scars, until I met you, oh.

You’re where I begin,

My favorite win, my stage at the show

So give me your hand,

I’ll take every chance, to never let go.

Ricky’s head felt empty, words felt useless- there was no matching what he just made for her. He found his heart again when he felt it in his stomach right as Gina exclaimed, “oh! And one more thing!”

Gina handed Ricky the small blue package. He studied it as his hand slowly pulled the ribbon off the box. Inside were two small silver rings, with leaves and branches engraved around the entire band. They seemed to loop infinitely. They seemed a bit... small? For his fingers.

“Gina, they’re great... but I don’t know if they’ll fit...?” Ricky hesitated as he stared at them.

“Ricky, read what’s written on the inside,” Gina nudged him with her head.

He picked up the small metal band and looked closer at the writing etched inside.

Pinky Promise

Gina, now on her knees, reached over to grab Ricky’s hand and gently slid the ring on his pinky. Then she grabbed the other one and slid it on hers.

“They’re promise rings. That we pinky promise to always come back to each other. I got the idea after the fair,” Gina explained.

Ricky studied the ring on his finger, now feeling like he was the one with tears. He rolled the ring around his finger again and again, admiring how beautiful such a small silver band could be. Simple, but beautiful.

“Is that ok?” Gina asked, probably trying to gauge Ricky’s expression.

They’re perfect. “They’re perfect,” Ricky echoed his thought out loud. 

Ricky reached across the guitar and wrapping paper and gave Gina a long kiss in front of the fireplace. Sometimes it seemed like Gina knew him better than he knew himself. Gina was his serendipity.

[13uswntimagines]

Beautiful, Crazy and Jealous (Alex Morgan x Reader)

Request: Jealous Alex 

Author’s Note: So the mentioned song is Beautiful Crazy by Luke Combs and is probably one of my favorite songs...

Alex had learned to live with a lot of things in the 6 years the two of you had been together. She had learned how to deal with your touring schedule and the distance. She learned how to accept that fans were going to thirst after you on the internet, magazines were going to romantically link you to any and everyone you so much as looked at, and interviewers were going to try and trap you into admitting you were dating whoever had garnered the media’s attention at any given point in time.

She learned to accept it, to swallow her jealousy, because at the end of the day it was her you called to talk to for hours, her you crooned love songs to while you made breakfast, and her bed that you always ended up in. 

But right now swallowing those feelings while a lucky fan draped herself across your piano was really difficult (even though you pulled a fan on stage every night).  She huffed, crossing her arms with a pout when the woman leaned in and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. You smiled good-naturedly at the fan shaking your head at her antics. You supposed you had gotten used to them acting a little over the top when you selected them from the crowd (you were singing them a love song at your concert after all).

“If you keep glaring one of the fans is going to notice,” Kelley smirked, nudging the woman with her elbow. 

Alex huffed, rolling her eyes. “It’s hard when she’s so…” her hands gestured to where you were serenading the lucky fan with your million dollar smile (though she noted it wasn’t the crooked smile you wore when you sang to her). 

“Entertaining? It’s her job and it makes the fans happy.” Kelley scoffed, shaking her head. Pulling fans on stage had been your thing since the two of you were in college. You had lived for your fans, they let you do the thing you loved the most (well besides Alex that was). 

“Yeah, but like they don’t usually touch her,” Alex grumbled. How many times had she sat on your piano while you sang to her, and moved an errant curl away from your eyes. She noted you hadn’t looked up at the woman with the gooey eyes you always gave her, but the familiarity of the action was still a little too close to home for her. 

Her lips ticked up when you sent a wink in her direction during the bridge of the song. The fan noticed and used a single finger under your chin to return your attention back to her. Alex growled under her breath. The fans were generally respectful, and they knew you weren’t the greatest fans of physical contact ( and that Alex was one of the few exceptions to that rule). 

Kelley rolled her eyes. You were head over heels for Alex, and it didn’t matter how many times you sang your newest mushy songs to your fans. “You know that she would rather be singing to you. She keeps looking this way anyway.”

Alex bit her lip and nodded. You had said as much during your many impromptu concerts for her. “I know,” she sighed, swallowing her jealousy with a gulp. You would make it up to her later. 

****

You bit the inside of your cheeks as the handsy fan was helped off stage. You gave her one last smile before kissing the back of her hand and allowing security to escort her back to her seat(twisting your fingers to force her to let go of you when she tried to hold on tighter). You watched for a second, making sure she made it through the crowd, your smile widening as you caught the eye of your blue-eyed forward.

You winked in her direction, not taking your eyes off her as a stagehand passed you your trusty guitar. You pulled the strap over your head, strutting up to the microphone, running a hand through your hair and pulling a pick from its holder. 

“So I thought we’d do something just a little different tonight. Is that alright with you guys?” You asked, strumming a random pattern in the opening chord of your next song. A surprise song that was a bit of a departure from your normal set. The crowd roared in response. 

Your grin widened as you took in the stadium. There was nothing quite like 75000 people screaming for you, but what made it even better was that the person you cared about most was here too. “Awesome! So some of you may know this, but today is a very special day,” 

Your eyes found Alex’s again, and the stadium faded into the background. A few of the fans in the front row turned to see who had captured your attention, but you paid them no mind. “It’s actually my anniversary, so I think it’s only fair that I sing her a love song too. What do you guys think?” Talking directly to Alex. She nodded in return, and you smirked. you might like to serenade fans, but your girl would get her own special performance (now and later). 

The crowd erupted in affirmation. It was rare you acknowledged your relationship. You laughed when Kelley nudged your fiancé. “Well, I can tell you that she’s beautiful and a little bit crazy, and I love her to pieces, even if I’m terrified of the way she drives…” you paused for a second, switching to the opening strumming pattern of the song. “Me wild,” you finished with a wink. 

*****

Alex sighed, watching you with adoring eyes, unable to stop the blush that spread up her neck all the way to her ears. Yes, she may be in a stadium, but she knew that you were singing directly to her. You didn’t need to pull her up on stage for her to know that. 

“I think she should change the name of the song,” Kelley laughed as you pointed at Alex from the stage and blew her a kiss (which she caught and put into her pocket). 

“To what?” 

“To Beautiful, Crazy and Jealous for no reason,” Kelley cackled, throwing her arm over the forward, who elbowed her hard in the ribs. “Shut up Kelley,” 

It was difficult to have to share you with the rest of the world, but your love was worth it.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 4

Masterlist

Thank you as always to my best friend and Beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit​ for putting up with me and my ramblings ♥

Word Count: 3.8k

Recommended song: "ily (I love you baby)" by Surf Mesa and Emilee

You'd never been more thankful that you kept a change of clothes in your car than you were after the race at Silverstone. You'd showered again, changing back into the sweaty tee and leggings. The clean emergency hoodie and jeans were a blessing, and casual enough for a night on the town.

Most of the crew had left, only a few poor souls pouring over race data or packing up essentials. James let you into the trailer yard this time without hesitation. "We really should just get you a key," He teases, "Sure would make my life easier."

Rolling your eyes, you give the tower of muscle a pitiful shove. He doesn't move an inch. "Thanks James. I'll ask Pierre to look into it."

A sudden wave of tiredness washes over you when you make it back to the trailer. You flip through the channels on the tiny television, settling on an analysis of the day’s race.

“And a brilliant drive from young Pierre Gasly, wasn’t it John?”

“I completely agree Martin. Gasly took advantage of every slip up by Mercedes and Red Bull and he has to be commended for that. Max made some rare mistakes and…”

You smile to yourself, their praise washing over you. Yawning, you curl up on Pierre's bed, the familiar smell of cedar lulling you into a light sleep in minutes.

**********

A gentle touch to your cheek wakes you some hours later. You crack your eyes open, greeted by a smile brighter than the stars in the night sky. You taste eternal sunshine on his lips when you kiss him, your soul sparking in response to his light.

"Good morning," He murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jaw. "Sleep well?"

You snuggle closer to him, eyes closing once more as you soak up the warmth. "Is it time to go out already?"

"It is. But we can stay here if you want to." He brushes a stray hair off your face. The gesture is so tender, if you didn’t know any better you’d never guess he could turn into the seasoned, take-no-shit racer you’d seen hours before. 

You shake your head. You couldn't let him miss out on celebrating his victory with his closest friends. Besides, you hadn't seen any of them for a span of time longer than a few minutes in months, and truth be told, you missed them all. 

Those boys had a knack for turning the simplest of outings into unforgettable adventures. You had been sworn to secrecy on numerous occasions after Pierre recounted drunken escapades that usually ended with Max sleeping somewhere preposterous, like a claw-footed bathtub in a fancy suite.

“Where are we going?” You ask sleepily. “Somewhere nearby?”

Pierre tugs you up until you’re sitting. He pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe ten minutes away.”

You lean your full weight against him, admiring how perfectly your bodies slot together. “Can I leave my car here?”

“As long as you’re okay with it staying here until tomorrow, that’s fine.” He coaxes you to stand and presses a kiss to your temple as a reward. Your limbs are still heavy and uncooperative. Pierre winds an arm around your waist, supporting you and assuming the position of your rock as he always did.

"You don't sleep here," You state simply, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head.

"Wouldn't be enough room for two anyway." He gestures to the tiny twin sized bed and shrugs.

Your brow furrows. “Am I staying with you tonight?” You honestly had not considered it. The jet usually left early and you had assumed he would want to get as much rest as possible. But now that you had experienced waking up next to him, you realize how much you want his face to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes each morning.

“Of course you’re staying with me. I’m taking every second of your time that I can get.”

You bite your lip and lay your head on his shoulder. The idea of falling asleep in his arms was enough to shake any lingering sleepiness. “Okay.” Confident that you could hold yourself up, you step out of his grasp. “Ready.”

The few mechanics roaming about the grounds are enough to keep you cautious. You walk through the paddock a hair's breadth apart, although every nerve screams for you to touch him. Every time your arm grazes his, electricity ripples across your skin. All you want to do is hold his hand, but there’s enough prying eyes that you restrain the impulse.

You can tell he feels it too by the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. And he's biting his cheek, you notice. A nervous habit of his and a clear indicator that he'd retreated inside his own head, likely contemplating if he'd truly deserved to win today or not.

Every few months his doubts crept in, the devil on his shoulder reminding him that Horner hadn't deemed him good enough to keep his seat at Red Bull after only a handful of races.

You'll never be as talented as them, is what you'd imagined it whispered. They're only here because they pity you. What makes you think you deserve a seat?

It couldn't be farther from the truth. Deep down, Pierre knew that. Driving in Formula 1 meant being under constant scrutiny from the public and sportscasters. Making an error meant debates about whether you were good enough and rumors about seat security.

There were no such errors today. You'd heard the commentary after the race; everyone was raving about his performance. Not one person had dared say he didn't deserve it.

Not wanting him to suffer alone, you subtly wrap your pinky finger around his. "You're okay," You say softly, his head whipping to you. "You deserved that trophy today. It was some of the best driving I've ever seen, everyone agrees. You deserve a trophy every time you get in that car. You'll always be my champion, even if the world tells you otherwise."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he nods and releases your pinkie. "You're my grounding rod," He says, lips curling in a knowing smile, and you can't hold back your laugh.

"Leave it to you to turn a romantic moment into a cheesy one." Instead of saying you're my rock like any normal person, he had to bring up the time you'd embarrassed yourself at the bar a year or so ago. He'd let you prattle on to poor Dan about building grounding rods of all things, and how you'd thought your professor's way of designing such a system was flawed. Pierre would never let you live that down, it seemed.

Max spots the two of you first, waving from where the boys had gathered outside Red Bull. “About time you showed up! We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!”

“She fell asleep,” Pierre says simply, his confidence back. “Takes her awhile to wake up.”

“Whatever, I’m just glad you’re here,” Daniel says, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you tight to his side. You couldn’t help the broad smile creeping onto your face, twin to the aussie’s as you hug him back. 

“We missed you,” Charles says, falling into step beside you. “I never hear from you anymore!”

You grimace. It was true, while the three boys had texted you quite frequently the past few months, you had barely responded to them. You felt guilty about it, knowing they were taking time out of their packed schedules to catch up. But uni had been kicking your ass and the only one you’d found time for was Pierre. Looking back, you were glad he had been the exception.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say. “Lots of projects.”

“And that new internship,” Max points out. Your eyebrows flick up, gaze flicking to Pierre. You had been awarded an internship a month or so ago at a local engineering firm in London. It was only part time work, a few hours a week, but it was enough. The only one you had told was Pierre.

Pierre grins, the gesture a silent apology. “I may have spilled the beans.” 

You cut him a glare, the others laughing at your attempt at being intimidating. But you couldn’t turn away from him, not when he was looking at you with the same pride you had felt when he’d won earlier that day. 

“Uber’s here,” Charles announces, checking his phone.

“Where?” Daniel asks, and Charles indicates a black SUV parked at the curb. Daniel and Max exchange a look, shouting “Shotgun!” at the same time. Both boys break into a full sprint, feet pounding on the pavement. Daniel wins - barely, leaving Max and Charles to squeeze into the back seat.

Pierre follows you into the third row of seats, his hand immediately engulfing yours. Your stomach flips, glancing up to find a reassuring smile on his face. You could barely focus on what was said for the first half of the ride, hyperaware of the callouses rubbing your skin. The world around you erupts into color at the touch, completing the part of you that you’d never realized was missing. 

The remainder of the drive is filled with laughter, jokes, and plenty of selfies with the driver. It wasn’t every day one could brag about having four world class drivers in your car; you couldn’t blame the man for being excited.

By the time you arrive at the bar, your sides are already splitting with laughter. “First round is on you, Ricciardo,” Charles says, wagging a finger at him. “Punishment for bringing up the Abu Dhabi incident again!”

“Jokes on you, I was already planning on it!” He glances at you and winks. “Gotta congratulate the winner somehow, right?” Little did the Australian know, you had already congratulated Pierre a few hours ago, and you doubted that a few shots would outshine that performance. You hope the pink tinge that rises to your cheeks with the memory isn't obvious and you duck your head just in case.

A blast of air conditioning hits you as you all stumble into the bar. All eyes fell to you and the ragtag group of drivers when you entered, silence blanketing the patrons. The bartender slams a fist on the wooden bartop, rattling glasses and making you flinch.

“Been wonderin’ when you lot were gonna show your ugly mugs!”

Daniel, Max and Charles erupt into friendly laughter, shaking the man’s hand and making small talk. You look to Pierre for an explanation.

“Tradition,” He murmurs. The noise returned to a normal level around you, though you could feel the glances thrown your way. “We come here every year, but only if one of us wins at Silverstone. Been awhile since that happened.”

"Ah," You say, nodding dramatically. "Yes, very long time." Pierre grins, shaking his head.

"Who won this year?" The man - William, Pierre informs you- asks. He towered over you when you sat on the sticky bar stool, tall and lanky but well muscled and certainly not someone you would expect patrons to try disrespecting. He was already pouring five shots of a fine Irish Whiskey, waving Daniel off when he tried to start a tab. “My treat.”

Max claps a hand on Pierre's shoulder. "This one claimed the crown, for once!"

"Wey hey!" William says, passing out the shots. "Everyone else crash out or what?"

"You should watch the replay," You say, knocking Pierre's shoulder with your own. "It was amazing. The move he used to get past Max-" you bring your pinched fingers to your lips in a chef's kiss. "Gorgeous."

"Much to Max's despair," Charles adds, raising his shot. "To the underdog!"

You all echo the sentiment, the boys knocking back the strong alcohol with practiced ease. It didn't go down as smooth for you, burning your throat and making you wince.

Daniel laughs. "Not used to drinking with us anymore, huh?"

"Must have lost my edge," You say, the woody taste lingering in your mouth. "I'm sure it'll hit me hard in a half hour or so, too."

**********

Well, you weren't wrong about the alcohol hitting you like a punch to the gut. Two shots later and you were swaying like a sailor on his first excursion out to sea, Pierre's shoulder the only thing keeping you from toppling off the bar stool. 

Pierre's eyes were bright as the others poked fun at him, William joining in with a witty remark now and then. His laugh wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you content and grounded.

"Hey Pierre," Daniel says at one point, "Don't look now but that table of girls has been obsessed with you all night."

Pierre, blitzed as he was, pays no attention to Dan's warning and turns around. A loopy grin was plastered on his face, turning back and shaking his head.

You may not have been able to think straight, but your stomach lurches. Instantly sobering slightly, you follow Dan's gaze to the indicated table to your left. Three beautiful women sat there, whispering behind their hands and clearly speaking about Pierre. One bit her lip and caught your eye, giggling. Her looks were universally attractive enough that she would be anyone’s type, Pierre included. The possessiveness in the gaze she raked over his body set your blood boiling. 

This… was not a scenario you wanted to play out. You didn't know if Pierre was ready to tell his friends about your relationship yet. You knew he wouldn't let any of those girls have the light of day, but he might let them fawn over him a little, just to protect your secret. And it would kill you, but you would have no choice but to let it happen.

"I'm good," Pierre says, sipping the beer he had been nursing all night.

"Come on mate," Max pushes, a wicked grin on his flushed face, "That blonde is so your type."

No she isn't.

You’re already staring up at Pierre when he turns to you. You have always worn your emotions on your sleeve for anyone to see, and it only got worse when mixed with alcohol. Pierre smiles softly, taking mercy on you. Slowly, he takes your hand and threads your fingers together before turning back to the boys.

"One of you can tell them I’m not interested. I already have my girl." 

Heart beating wildly, you scan your friends faces. They were all wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at your joined hands. Pierre gives your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you to breathe. He read you like an open book, offering reassurance when you needed it most.

"It's about fucking time!" Daniel roars, breaking the tense silence. Your shoulders relax, grinning along with the others. Pierre beams at you, knocking your shoulder to say I told you so. 

"Does this mean I get a break from listening to you obsess over her every weekend?" Max asks, giving you a meaningful look. 

"Likely not," Pierre answers. "I'm still just as obsessed as before. Maybe more." Max pretends to gag, earning him a playful punch from Charles. God, it was so freeing for your relationship to be more open, even if it was just between your closest friends. 

"I'd just like to point out that I told you two this would happen years ago," Charles says matter of factly, pointing at Max and Dan. "Should've taken you up on that bet."

Your mouth hung open. "You were going to bet on us being a couple?"

"Oh come on," Max says, rolling his eyes. "We all knew it was coming eventually. We just didn't know when!"

Pink stains your cheeks, but Pierre laughs and leans in to kiss you. Remembering the girls behind you, you press a little closer to him. Under the guise of placing a kiss to his cheek, you meet the blonde's eyes and smile sweetly.

The woman preens, mouth twisting. Good. Pierre was yours, and now that he'd admitted it, you could let those girls know it. His hand slips to your thigh, squeezing hard. A clear warning that you were venturing into dangerous territory. You didn't care.

The alcohol in your veins makes you bold, and you want to drive your point home. They could look all they wanted, but he was coming home with you. You push the boundary farther and bite the soft skin of his neck just hard enough to leave a mark. Pierre's hiss finally makes you pull back and look up at him innocently.

"Get a room," Daniel teases with a wink. You smile at him, mumbling an insincere apology. Your point had been made. The arrogant smirk had been wiped from the woman’s face, replaced with a grimace. 

"I think it is time for us to get going," Pierre says, annoyance flashing across his face. Oh, you had stoked the fire and now you would have to face the consequences. 

"We're just getting started," Charles complains. Pierre slaps a few bills on the counter and gets up without responding. 

"Bye guys!" You call over your shoulder as Pierre drags you towards the door. They all wave back, Max's lower lip jutting out in a pout. Your eyes slid one more time to the blonde, who had her arms crossed over her chest. You give her a wicked, taunting grin and return her earlier wink.

Pierre halts so quickly that you run into him. “Why are we leaving?”

“You know why,” He growls, flagging down a cab. “You didn't like how she was looking at me, so you did something about it. You might not have noticed, but every man in that bar had their eyes on you. So I’m following your example and doing something about it.”

Your brow furrows. Pierre won’t meet your gaze, and your eyes fall to the purple mark on his neck. You didn’t like his tone; it bordered dangerously on anger. “Are you… Are you mad that I did that?”

Tears threaten to spill when he finally looks at you. God, you were a blubbering drunk.  When your lip wobbles, his anger fades and he sighs. “I’m not mad. I just… I didn’t think you’d want me flaunting our relationship yet. When you did this-” He gestures to his neck- “I could barely keep my hands off you. Not when I saw the guy walking up to you.”

You sniff, trying to conjure the image of the bar. “I didn’t notice anyone.”

“Yeah, cause I dragged you out here before he could say anything.” Pierre pulls his hood up and sighs. “Trying to catch a cab here is harder than overtaking Hamilton.”

You laugh harder than you should at the off-hand remark, following after him as he trudges down the sidewalk. “Why are you not drunk? I feel like you should be drunk. You won a race. They were feeding you shots one after another.”

“One of us had to be responsible and make sure we got home okay.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “And I knew as soon as you had that first shot it would have to be me. Didn’t you notice me handing the shots to the other guys?”

“No,” You say, rubbing your eyes. “What about the boys? How are they gonna get home?” Pierre stops, forcing you to do the same. He tugs your hood up, makes sure his is secure enough to hide his face, and grabs your hand.

“I already told Seb to come round them up in an hour or so. They’ll be fine.”

You don’t respond, too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face. It doesn’t help that your vision is a tad blurry. Finally you give up and whine, “How much further?”

“It’s right there,” He says, pointing at a towering glass building just across the street. “In five minutes, you can be tucked into a cozy, fluffy suite and you can rest all you want, my love.”

You hum at the words, warmth flooding your veins from more than the liquor. “I like that.”

“What, the building?” He asks, amused. He helps you cross the empty street, making sure you’re paying attention to where you’re going.

“Noooo, what you said,” You clarify, leaning on him as you try to navigate the handful of steps leading to the hotel.

He’s quiet until you reach the elevator. “My love,” He murmurs, and you grin up at him.

“Mon… mon coeur,” You manage to say, somehow pulling the French phrase out of the dregs of your memory. The words are slurred and you know that you absolutely botch the pronunciation, but the intent is clear. You may have lived in France since you were 18, but learning the language wasn’t a requirement when almost everyone knew english as well. But the two of you had spent many hours watching Pierre’s favorite french films over the years; some of it must have unintentionally rubbed off on you.

A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “How do you even know what that means?”

You shrug. “Just do.” The elevator doors open and you step out, Pierre following. You halt, not knowing which hall to take. You glance up at your companion for help, only to find him staring back at you. “What?”

He shakes his head and leads you down the corridor to his room. It's a spacious corner suite, with huge windows facing Silverstone that give him a perfect view of the track. You make for the window but Pierre’s hand on your wrist stops you.

“I don’t think so, it’s time for you to sleep.”

“But I just wanna see,” You protest weakly.

“Nice try. I know you. You’ll sit in front of that window for hours if I let you.”

You give in only because he was right. Cityscapes of any kind drew your attention like a moth to a flame. You pouted anyway, but let him take you to the bedroom. Gentle pressure on your shoulders had you sinking into the plush mattress, groaning at the luxurious softness. Pierre laughs as he helps you out of your shoes and jeans, leaving the hoodie.

Eyelids drooping, you climb under the covers Pierre had pulled back for you. He tucks you in and kisses your temple. You grab for him, tugging on his shirt until he stoops down and gives you a proper kiss. When he steps out of your grasp, you panic.

“Stay,” You mumble, fear bubbling in your chest. He had to stay, he couldn’t leave, not when you only had this one night left-

“I’m just taking off my shoes,” He assures you, his weight sliding in behind you to settle against your back. You sigh, moulding yourself to him as best you could. Being in his arms was somehow familiar, even if he’d never held you like this. It felt like home.

“Pierre?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Pillowy soft lips press to the nape of your neck. “I love you too, mon coeur.”

Tagging: @flashcal

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Hey! I have another idea for a request!

So it’s my birthday today, and I’ve been trying to picture birthdays in the wasteland. How would romanced companions celebrate sole’s birthday?

No rush to do this! I’m a Gage romancer, if you’re only looking to do a few companions! Thank you in advance!

(Hope Headcanons are good enough!! Happy belated birthday! Hope it was a good one ❤️)

Cait:

•Given her past, Cait hasn't exactly had a wonderful experience with birthdays. If anything, they were somewhat of a sore subject.

•That in mind, she doesn't want you to feel that loneliness- especially after all you've been through.

•She won't make a huge fuss out of it, but she'll let you know that you're loved by her. It'll probably be a more quiet event, just the two of you together with your favourite drinks and treats. It may be small..but she's also going to steal something nice from one of those stuck up bitches from the Diamond City upper stands.

Curie:

•She's elated when your birthday comes around.

•Having the traditions and mindset of a being pre-war, she tries her best to recreate an event accordingly. She'll arrange it all! A couple of your closest friends, some bright decorations, and a mutfruit cake with lovely vivid frosting.

•She's even going to sing "Happy Birthday" in that cute little French accent of her's.

Danse:

•Although birthdays are still celebrated in the Brotherhood, Danse knew very well that kind of celebration wasn't fitting for someone he truly loved.

•So, using his heart instead of his head (a very rare occasion), Danse fabricated a somewhat of an itinerary solely focused on doing your favourite things throughout the day.

•At the very end of it, he'd sing a soft "Happy Birthday" and present you with a shabby stack of pancakes. They probably will be a little burned, but he figured it was a good gesture. In addition to this, he'll pull a locket from his uniform pocket and drape it around your neck- a picture of you and him standing together inside.

Deacon:

•Well, perks of being in a group like the railroad, they take it upon themselves to make a big deal out of their "family member's" birthday. Deacon however, is the ringleader of the whole event.

•He is going to make sure you have the party of your life! Even some mysteriously accurate pre-war type of party games are going to incorporated.

Gage:

•Once again, the raider shows how sappy he really is.

•For a while he acts as though nothing is special about the day, maybe even to the point of allowing you to get upset- but never fear. He's just deliberately getting you away from Fizztop, as so, expect him to have conveniently scheduled for you to hold counsel with The Pack.

•No matter how pissed you are, as soon as you come back home- you can't help but be in awe. Gage did his very best to clean up the place, getting some fresh feverblooms to spruce up the area- some candles strewn in random places of the room. Dare say, he made it look like quite the romantic scene.

•From then onto the wee hours of the morning, Gage makes sure to shower you in gifts, sweets, and you bet- affection.

Hancock:

•It's going to be a huge event. Period.

•All of Goodneighbor is going to know what's up. Chances are if you are close to hancock, the city probably adores you as well.

•Expect a stereotypical surprise party where everyone jumps out and yells within the Old State House.

•Magnolia is going to perform for the whole party too.

Macready:

•Ol' Mac is pretty sweet.

•The morning of your birthday he'll make you a halfway decent breakfast in bed, maybe even playfully spoon feeding you with a goofy grin on his face.

•It's going to be one of the instances where Mac truly spoils you.

•When it's all coming to an end, he'll finally give you his gift. A small yaoguai made of wood with your initials surrounded by a scratchy heart on it's undersides

Maxson:

•Something so monumental...he'll actually take a day off from being "The Elder"...well, as much as he can. Basically, he's putting off briefings and replying to headache inducing emails.

•Arthur again, has zero experience with a serious significant other- so he is somewhat at a loss for what to do. Nonetheless, he tries his best to make it special.

•Ultimately he decides to give you a normal date, for once. The both of you dressed down like a couple of wastelanders, just enjoying what merriment your company could provide and the wonders of Diamond City's lights.

Nick:

•Another pre-war person.

•However nick doesn't necessarily go the purely traditional route. Instead he takes a more intimate turn, electing to get you something nice, fetch some decent food, put on the Classical Radio Station and slow dance the night away.

Piper:

•She is another one of the more traditional celebrators.

•She won't through quite as big of a party as Hancock, but it will be something! Complete with noisemakers, over excessive drinking, cupcakes and confetti!

•Once it's all over though, she'll hug you from behind on your shared bed and mutter about how much she appreciates you just being you..maybe even teasing you for being literally hundreds of years old.

Preston:

•He goes a little extra. As much as a Minuteman can, at least.

•He and the rest of the soldiers make it their top priority to throw you one hell of a shindig. There will be live music, semi okay foods, and lots of laughs.

•May or may not ask you to marry him depending upon how far your relationship has progressed.

X6-88:

•He never really "got" birthdays..but for you he is going to try.

•X6 eventually finds the best thing he can do is give you a decked out weapon and take you for a moonlit walk. Who knows, maybe you'll be able to test out his gift.

[keisurin]

#first date

#ft; tendou, suna, matsukawa

#FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, cursing, hq x gn!reader

#hcs of you and the haikyuu boys first date!!

#tendou: you both were best friends to begin with and you’re basically the same person so he probably plans some wild shit on your first date.

without paying, you both sneak into a cinema and watch like 4 other movies, how did you not get caught? no one knows.

you post a lot on your stories to which semi and reon are telling you “stop” or “do the right thing” just disciplining the two of you while ushijima replies with 🌝👍 honestly, why the fuc- anyways.

he like kisses you on the forehead etc etc he tries to take it slow cause it’s the first date but he does love holding your hand in public.

in the end of the day,☺️ i can imagine he fucking blows up fireworks at some abandoned land for your entertainment like he’s serenading you bye you you can’t change my mind. it adds on to the fun when your energy matches him. if people saw what you two were doing, they’d assume you’re cult leaders or performing a ritual anything satanic.

#suna: suna won’t go on a date with just anyone. he has to like them and feel like he wants to devote his life to them, yes? i’m joking but if he catches feelings for someone, he would def do anything for them and puts in as much effort as he can.

homeboy definitely has that cash, so fancy dinner at some expensive and boujee restaurant while the two of you are wearing like sweatpants and crummy t-shirt’s. yea idk but yk, yall would.

after that you get tired of the sophisticated shit and ditch it. you go back to his place and even if you’re a gamer or not, you play mario kart or smash all day while cuddling. maybe watch a movie and order takeout because he has an addiction to eating chicken wings at least 3 times a week. uh, yes. 

KYA omg but you meet his sister when you’re about to eat and she loves you, you love her. a rintarou slander, she tells you everything about him and basically saying “run away while you can but do come home here for me” yep yall are best friends. rintarou can’t get over how the two of you just clicked and he really loves it but on the outside he’s telling his sister to get out his room.

#matsukawa: god. he’s talking to makki the whole time and on a fucking walkie talkie ohmfg. and when he talks to him, he acts like he’s suddenly in a private room and you’re not there. right beside him. holding his hand.

like he goes “bro what do i say to them?” and makki says smt like “tell them ‘you have beautiful eyes’” to which he turns to you and says “i have beautiful eyes.” you and makki can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.  but yall are close so it doesn’t bother you. you actually really love it and you get a good laugh out of it and mattsun of course still has his 100% attention on you.

you go to an amusement park, he loves rollercoasters but despite the love for the thrill he can’t help but hold tightly onto the bar and going on them alot of times gets him sick.

unfortunately for the both of you, you ask “do you wanna hold my hand?” as a romantic gesture. in his head he’s saying aRe yoU sure about that but he also doesn’t want to sounds rude so he kindly obliges to it. 

rip to your hand, purple as a grape when you get off the ride and you have a loopy and sick mattsun beside you in the verge of throwing up. it’s even more fun when he’s all droopy so he leans onto you and there’s people telling you “wahh you’re such a cute couple!!” like yes thank you but he’s a heavy man, send help. HWHAHA jkjk you love him so much and will take care of him with your life. exaggerated but sure. you bring him to your place and you crash into bed. even tho he’s half asleep he gives you the best cuddles~

gen taglist; @tanakaslastbraincell @indecisivehusky @mint-mai @yafriendlyfangirl @blana @franko-pop

[littlefreya]

Under the Milky Way

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Summary: Henry has been in love with his friend for years. Just hearing her name makes his heart race but he doesn’t know if she feels the same and doesn’t know how to act when he really likes a girl. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 1K

Warnings: None. Fluffy and romantic.

A/N: I’m a good Dom and after (and before) giving you all that rough stuff I’m now treating you with some fluff, because boy you’re gonna need it with all that’s coming...  Thanks @agniavateira​ for doing the beta! Masterlist is here. This is roughly inspired by “Under the Milky Way” by The Church. 

Title: Under the Milky Way

He waited so long to finally see her again. Hoping this time he will receive a sign, some gesture, or a hint that will finally shake the earth and give him the assurance that maybe, just maybe she feels the same.

When he saw her tonight his throat went dry, suddenly the simplest words felt complicated and could not seem to form on his tongue. That navy blue maid of honour dress hugs her small form so adoringly as if the fabric itself worships her body. Her hair is half held back by a french braid which circles the back of her head like a small Elvish tiara. Thick, dark waves fall from it, curled at the edge of her lower back. 

He tries to avoid staring at her as she takes her place beside the bride. Not wanting to embarrass himself any more than he already did, but his sight is drawn as if by some magnetic force. In his mind, he wants to kneel before her and bow his head like some knight out of a fairytale, to plead to be in the service of this queen. 

She is looking at her best friend as they stand in the centre of the stage. She clutches a bouquet of white and pink roses against her chest while her eyes shine. She senses someone looking at her. When she glances at the crowd, her eyes fall on him right away. They share a mutual smile and she forces herself to look away.

They have always liked each other, he has always been kind to her.

Sometimes he would touch her as they sat with friends, a feverish stroke, innocent or by mistake, but that would be enough to make her heart flutter like a huge butterfly in the cage of her chest. 

To see him physically hurts sometimes. Especially on a night like this when she is supposed to be happy, yet her heart feels sorrowful.

The ceremony soon ends. The bride and the groom share a loving kiss and she claps her hands with a blissful smile. Their eyes meet again and she can’t help but feel that same chant in her lungs. 

Several drinks later they are on the dance floor, dancing with a group of their friends in a large circle. Henry is outrageous in his dance moves. He self-claims to be the worst dancer to ever walked this earth, which is why his moves consist of dramatic hand gestures meant to be parodic. He thinks it’s funny; he is mainly here to make people laugh.

But these are her type of dance moves and she follows him, doing the same. They perform the overly-dramatic gestures while singing along to the sounds of cheesy rock ballads from the 90s.

Friends begin to move away, looking at them as they’re doing their own little thing while shaking their heads and sighing. It’s been clear for the last 4 years, as obvious as a hit on the head. Yet the only people who seem to be clueless are Henry and her.

Another cheesy song ends and Henry laces his fingers in hers as she laughs drunkenly, throwing her head back as she can’t contain herself. The rhythm suddenly slows down and the soft guitar begins to play Under the Milky Way by The Church.

She calls out how much she loves the song. While still holding her hand, he boldly pulls her against him. She puts her head on his shoulder, her heartbeat accelerate, so much that she is certain he can feel the throb against his taut torso.  

Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty Sound of their breath fades with the light I think about the loveless fascination Under the Milky Way tonight

All eyes are on them as the beat picks up. The dramatic gestures have been reduced to a slow, rhythmic dance that doesn’t necessarily fit the beat of the music. Unaware of how they are supposed to dance or act, they allow themselves to flow naturally. They’re too drunk anyway, their bodies exhausted and running on steam. 

She is crushed against his warm chest, while the classical guitar of the chorus plays. It feels so cosy to be wrapped in the big man’s arms and listen to the music as it plays through his body. The music forces them to depart, or at least she tries, twirling away only to be caught by his hand around her wrist. His eyes are too foggy, his smirk whimsical as he pulls her against him once more.

“Under the milky way tonight…”

He hears her beautiful voice singing along with the words of the song which now just became his favourite song in the whole wide world. He presses his chin against her head, holding her in a moment he wants to have frozen in time. Just him and her, lost in a purple-pink haze of the illusion that he finally told her how he feels and she said she feels the same.

But as soon as the song ends their bodies part.  Embarrassing drunken smiles are exchanged, suddenly their eyes are unable to meet. It’s time to go home, each to drift away to their designated drivers. She kisses him goodbye on the cheek and walks away, holding herself from turning back and running to crush her lips against his.

~*~

Come morning he finds a message on his phone. A friend sends him a video. It’s from the night before, him and her dancing in each other’s arms all alone on the dance floor.

“You two are absolute idiots, everybody knows, just ask her out!”

Swallowing deeply, he looks at his large American Akita that peers at him with a bewildered face.

“What do you say, buddy? Take the chance?”

Kal tilts his head in a question and then barks.

She lies on the bed with the cat on her chest, holding back tears that've been threatening to run down her cheeks for hours. 

When her phone vibrates on the pillow next to her head she sniffles and picks it up to see who messaged her.

“Can I take you on a date tonight, little one?” 

[tarteausuga]

Home for Christmas

CW: just pure fluff, really. As fluffy and as soft as snow but not as cold. Idol! Mark Lee x reader. Johnny's there too but just as support.

WC: 3.3K

Summary: in which you're alone for Christmas and Mark tries to give you a gift to make you feel less sad.

A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone. Happy holidays if you don't celebrate Christmas. I hope you're all happy, healthy and safe. I'll also be taking a break from TBTC next week and posting something for New year's ✌️

Long distance relationships were hard but they had their good sides as well as bad. One good thing is that you had a lot of time for yourself but on the bad side, you often felt lonely whenever you're out and see people with their significant others. You never really had to spend money on dates but conversely, you never had a chance to go out and show off your boyfriend in public. The time difference often made it hard for you to talk but neither of you ever missed out on your calls.

Mark would call you first thing in the morning when you woke up. It would be midnight to him but luckily, he was a night owl and didn't mind keeping you company while you got ready for your day. Then, you would go about your day before calling him at 5pm, 9am his time, to do the same for him. He often spent his mornings at home before heading to the studio for practice or to write so it was ample time to catch up and just talk about random things. He liked to watch you cook and he often would watch something in Netflix with you. Sometimes you were lucky enough to have him talk you to sleep, or sing you a song he's been working on to send you off into your dream world.

It sounds perfect in a way. You're both able to focus on your lives during the day because the other is safely asleep but you craved the physical aspects. You wanted to be held, you wanted to hold his hand, hell you just wanted to eat a meal with him sitting across from you at the table instead of on a little screen.

The past year and a half has been spent like this. You were childhood friends, growing up together before he moved overseas. You often spent recess running around together and sharing snacks. He wasn't necessarily your best friend, but he was one of the few friends you had growing up and even to this day. It's not that you weren't social but you just preferred being by yourself a lot. You kept in touch with the few friends you did have and that was all you really needed.

It was a surprise to run into him given the circumstances on both ends. He was an incredibly talented and relatively famous Idol in another country; and you moved across the country for school but ended up staying there after landing a good job. You were aware that he would be performing with his group but it wasn't your scene. And you couldn't get tickets anyway since they sold out almost instantly.

Out on your lunch break, you were grabbing a midday iced coffee. But you were trying to juggle setting up meetings and calls with a few important people so you weren't really paying attention when you went to grab the coffee, thinking it was yours.

"Oh I'm sorry." Both you and the owner of that drink said.

Finally, you looked up from your phone at the man and for some reason, you had a feeling of familiarity with him. After squinting your eyes and trying to go through your roledex of people you've encountered in your life, your brain finally figured it out. "Mark?" You say with bewilderment.

"Oh my god! It is you!" He pulled you into an extremely tight hug. "I saw you but I couldn't really tell and I didn't want to go up to a random stranger." He laughed and you couldn't help but do the same. Mark always had that effect on people, he would laugh or smile and no matter who he was with, they would do the same.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, somehow completely forgetting that he was due to perform the next day, which he reminded you of. "Oh! That's really exciting." If you were honest, you were distracted by how he's grown up. He used to be this cute boy that you would trade your fruit snacks for cookies with. But now he was incredibly handsome but still had those captivating eyes that could make you melt.

"This is amazing, I can't believe we ran into each other like this." He pulled you into another hug that brought a blush across your face. You were in a daze as he introduced you to the 2 other guys with him but you didn't really catch their names. You just noticed that they were also incredibly handsome. "But hey, if you're free tonight, we should catch up!" You agreed, thankfully.

And you could say the rest was history but beyond that one fateful day/night, you haven't seen Mark. A full year and a half later, you were entering your second Christmas without him but unfortunately, you weren't able to go home to your family to distract yourself from the boy you wanted to be with during the holidays. Not usually the type to be into overly romantic gestures, you uncharacteristically were craving the experiences that couples usually had in the movies. Your sisters told you countless times to stop watching Hallmark Christmas movies but you really couldn't help it when there was nothing else to watch on TV.

December 23rd. You were staring at your miniature Christmas tree that you had bought for your small apartment. The rest of your apartment was fully decorated in an effort to fill the emptiness you felt but it didn't seem to help much beyond wishing that Mark were there to experience it with you.

It was a perfect Christmas, the snow was falling outside and you reminisced about that rare snow day you had in your West coast town. That day was incredible. It was Christmas Eve and the whole city shut down due to the influx of white that they rarely had to deal with. Mark had banged on your door and begged your parents to let you go out and play despite it being Christmas Eve. That day was spent building snowmen, having snowball fights and everything before everyone went home and passed out to wake up to a white Christmas.

Mark had expressed to you that he missed that the most. Those snow days where everything shut down and you could just go out and be free to run around and have fun. You wished to be able to send some snow to him. But instead, you called him.

"Hi baby, how are you?" He said in a gravely voice as he had just woken up.

"I'm okay, just miss you a lot." You pouted and he copied your expression. "But look!" You showed him the view outside your window, including the snow capped trees and pillows of white on any surface it could cling on.

"Oh my god, that's beautiful." He sighed. "I wish I could be there to see it with you. I hate that you're alone this year for Christmas."

"It's okay." You flash a weak smile. "My coworker is going to drop off some food for me from her parents. I'll just have a Harry Potter marathon."

"Okay. I'll join you for that." He smiles. "My present for you should be showing up soon. I hope it gets there before the 25th."

"Hard to say. Doesn't matter if it does or not, I'm just happy to get something from you." You ease him of his worries. He often got worked up over the smallest things and you found it cute the way he would furrow his eyebrows in frustration only to breathe a sigh of relief when you told him to do so. You were his comfort and he was yours. Even if you were thousands of miles apart.

"I have to get going, love. I'll talk to you later okay?" He says and you are confused as he usually never has nice to do before noon. But you shrugged it off and assumed he just had some year end things to work on.

"Yeah I'll talk to you later. I love you." You blew him a kiss and he did the same before hanging up.

To be honest with yourself, you were starting to hate saying goodbye. Your heart would feel so heavy whenever a call ended and recently, that feeling got worse and worse with every call. Things were starting to feel like they were all for nothing. You trusted Mark and knew him well enough to know you were the only one that would be on his mind but that physical aspect was something you were craving. The simplest things like just being in the same room while you were both quietly working on your own things, exchanging loving glances every so often.

You dozed off watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and was woken up on Christmas Eve by the blinding white of the snow capped exteriors. Confused, you searched for your phone to check the time: 9:27. Mark has never failed to call you at 8AM every single day. It was your routine. It was your ritual. You send him a message but his phone doesn't even receive it. Is his phone off? You ask yourself. He did sound a bit off yesterday… Or was he just tired and groggy? Maybe he's having a late night in the studio. He said he didn't have anything scheduled for a few days though. In an effort to mitigate your panic, you throw your phone to the other side of your bed.

Forcing yourself to roll out of bed and make some coffee to try to dull some of the panic you were feeling. He wouldn't just ice me out on Christmas Eve. He's probably just tired and fell asleep before he could call, you convinced yourself.

It was nearing lunch time and you still didn't hear from your boyfriend. You had spent the morning curled up on the couch watching Disney Channel Original Christmas Movies, trying to distract yourself but every time something romantic happened, you sighed and wished for Mark. His phone still wasn't receiving your messages. Had his phone died?

In desperation, you text the only other person you knew who was close with him: Johnny. You had met Johnny that day that you ran into Mark but never processed it until you began watching their performances on YouTube. Mark had given you Johnny's number so you could apologize for ignoring him but you would occasionally ask him for favours. Usually asking him to get something for Mark from you. He often said, "I only do this because I love Mark and you love Mark."

You [11:34AM]: Hey Johnny? Are you awake?

You [11:34AM]: Merry Christmas, by the way!

It was almost 4AM so you would be surprised if he was still awake but he often stayed up late with Haechan so you figured it was worth a shot.

Johnny [11:39AM]: what's up?

Johnny [11:38AM]: Merry Christmas to you too :)

You [11:40AM]: is Mark okay? I haven't heard from him since last night. I'm getting worried.

You watched as Johnny's message bubble appeared and disappeared a few times. He was hesitating…

Johnny [11:42AM]: he's fine. You'll probably hear from him soon ;)

You [11:42AM]: ?? What's that supposed to mean?

Johnny simply replied with a shrug emoji and you wished you could send a punch through a text message. But you sighed and continued sipping on your hot apple cider as you pressed play on another movie. Johnny doesn't lie so I'll believe him for now.

You had somehow fallen asleep and you only realized when you felt your phone buzzing next to you. Without even checking the caller ID, you press the green answer button and put it on speaker as you tried to pull yourself out of the afternoon nap haze.

"Hello?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"Hey baby, sorry I've missed your messages. Johnny said you were worried about me?" Mark's voice shook you awake. You scrambled to sit up before picking up your phone and taking it off speaker to hear him more clearly.

"Mark? Are you okay?"

He simply laughed, "I'm okay babe. I'm sorry for worrying you." He apologized again.

"No, it's okay. I was just worrying over nothing. What were you doing?"

"I was at the airport." He said and you could tell there was something up by the tone of his voice. Mark could never lie to you even if he tried.

"And?"

"And I need you to come pick me up." He teased and you became even more confused which made you a bit upset as you didn't like being led on.

"Mark I can't, you're in another country." You roll your eyes even though he can't see.

"Baby, I'm not. I'm here." And it finally clicked in your head.

"Wait! You're here? Like here? Like in the same city?" You try not to scream.

"Yes, exactly. I wanted to surprise you better but the snow delayed things…"

"It's okay I'll come now!" You practically yell into the phone.

"Drive carefully!" He warned you before hanging up.

Like a tornado, you tried to clean up your apartment so your boyfriend didn't think you were a complete slob. At the same time, you were trying to pick out a cute outfit and do your hair in an effort to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

With your best effort, you shrugged when you checked yourself in the mirror before pulling on your parka and heading out the door. As your car warmed up, you reminded yourself that Mark had seen you at your literal worst. From the late night mental breakdowns to a hungover morning from having a few too many drinks with your coworkers, Mark had seen it all and always assured you that you looked amazing. Maybe he was lying a few times during those moments but he never made you feel like you were anything less than perfect for him.

You did your best to drive calmly to the airport. There wasn't much of a choice as the other cars on the road were also trying to get to their destinations safely so traffic was moving at a slower pace. After what seemed like the longest car ride you've ever taken, you pulled into a parking stall at the airport and checked your phone to see that Mark had sent you the gate he was at, waiting for his luggage. You practically sprinted across the parking lot and road, having a few close calls with other pedestrians and a few cars. But you couldn't help yourself. You were finally getting to see him.

Arriving at his gate, you tried to catch your breath as you scanned the crowd around the baggage carousel looking for Mark. When the two of you finally made eye contact, you burst through the crowd and jumped into his arms. You thought you would tackle him down but he was surprisingly strong and not only caught you but picked you up, allowing your legs to wrap around him like a koala baby. People aw'd and some even clapped while others pulled out their phones to candidly capture your reunion.

"You're here." You choked back tears, breathing in his scent and making sure you locked it up in your memory for future use.

"I'm here." He breathed into your ear which triggered the tears to start falling. He placed you back on your feet but steadied you in the warmth and safety of his arms. He chuckled while he wiped your tears away, "why are you crying?"

"I don't know, I just missed you so much." You sniffled while looking up at him with wet eyes. It's been so long that you had forgotten that he was taller than you by more than a few centimeters. So when he leaned down to kiss you, you were surprised but also extremely comforted as a wave of warmth filled up the emptiness in your heart.

"My little crybaby." He placed another kiss on your forehead.

You clung on to each other until his suitcase dropped down from the chute. Hand-in-hand, you led him to your car. Amazingly, you navigated the whole way there while beaming up at Mark the whole time. He reciprocated but occasionally pulled you to the side to avoid running into someone else.

The car ride back to your apartment was just full of you two talking about anything and everything. From when he planned all of this and how he managed to get out of his activities to Johnny almost ruining the surprise when he struggled to say something that would both ease your worries but not let you in on the secret. The whole time, Mark's hand was on your thigh as you needed both hands to properly manoeuvre your car through the snow. You sometimes caught Mark looking outside with pure wonder and amazement as he took in the image of the city blanketed by the snow. The smile on your face never left as you tried to process every moment with him to keep in your memories.

"So how long are you staying?" You say as you take the elevator up to your apartment. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders and you had a feeling that your boyfriend who was usually uncomfortable with physical attraction, wouldn't keep a hand off of you the whole time he was there.

"I have to leave the day after Christmas." He says quietly.

Trying not to be upset by the short time together, you reminded yourself that it was better than nothing. "We'll make it work." You say simply to him while learning up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Mark felt overwhelmed by your apartment. The moment he stepped in, he was greeted by the sweet scent of vanilla and oranges. He tried to take as many mental notes as he could while walking around and taking in every single detail of your place. This was your home and he felt like every little knick-knack strategically placed by you was a piece of you.

"Here." You handed him a cup of apple cider to warm up.

"Thank you." He added a kiss to your temple. Suddenly remembering something, he let out a little gasp before placing his cup down on the coffee table and going to his backpack. He pulled out a box wrapped in red paper and a golden bow that was slightly flattened from its journey to the other side of the world to you.

"What's this?" You ask when he places it in your hands, taking a seat next to you.

"Just open it." He smiles. The excitement was practically bursting from him as he anticipated you opening the box.

"Your gift is probably on the doorstep of your mom's place right now." You sighed.

"It's okay baby, I can't wait to open it but just open yours now." He said.

The lid lifted to reveal a necklace with a delicate golden chain and a little purple gem dangling from it. "Mark…" you coo, your eyes welling up with tears again.

"Are you going to cry again?" He laughs and you playfully poke his side. "I know purple is your favourite colour… It's not much but I thought you'd like it." He said softly while he fixed it around your neck. You smiled up at him before you situated yourself in his lap, straddling his thighs.

"It's perfect." You kiss him, "what else did you get me?" You pull back when he tries to deepen the kiss.

"What do you mean?" He stared blankly at you.

"You said it's not much so where's the rest of my present?" You say mischievously.

"You said it's perfect but you want more?" He cocks an eyebrow up.

"Well… I haven't seen you in a year and a half, there has to be more." You tease.

"I'm your present aren't I?" He smirks, grabbing the bow from the box and sticking it onto his head.

"I guess…" you laugh while leaning in to kiss him again. "You're lucky you're cute." You say as he stands up, making sure to wrap your legs around him before turning towards your bedroom.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Geralt and the Minotaur p3

Y’all this could get hella complicated if I go hard with all the character sub ideas and all that but I’m here for the relationship so its gonna be bare bones on combining the canon bc I’m just not that skilled as a writer 😂 

Pairing : Geraskier

Warnings: talk of human sacrifice, talk of cannibalism, ye ole impending death, mention parents death, imprisonment, public humiliation (kinda), we got major soft boys falling for each other vibes too

part 2 here!

__________

Geralt woke with his head still resting on Jaskier’s thigh, though he was now lying on his side, resting his head against Geralt’s hip just above the dagger tucked in his belt. He had draped his arm over Jaskier’s waist as they slept, holding him closer, and Jaskier’s arm was resting on Geralt’s chest. It was still dark and, from the sounds of it, everyone else was still asleep save a few soldiers at the helm. The waves had settled to a gentle lapping at the hull and Geralt found himself completely relaxed and at peace for the first time in weeks. His hand rose and fell in a gentle rhythm with Jaskier’s breathing and every now and then the blue eyed boy would sigh, bringing a soft sleepy smile to Geralt’s face. He didn’t dare move, lest he break the spell, but someone else woke from a nightmare with a scream that shattered his illusion. 

Jaskier hummed and nuzzled into Geralt’s hip before he was fully awake, making the prince blush furiously and gasp. Sure he’d fallen asleep with friends and romantic interests back home, but that sensation was… different. 

“Is it morning?” Jaskier mumbled, not moving to sit, but at least the nuzzling had stopped. 

“Probably,” Geralt answered, resisting the urge to run his hand over Jaskier’s shoulder, “still early.”

“You haven’t been lying awake all this time have you?”

Geralt forced a breath out his nose in amusement, “Only a few minutes or so.”

Jaskier sat up, laying his arm over Geralt’s, keeping it wrapped around his waist as he moved to be able to inspect the young hero’s face, “You still look… weary.”

Geralt frowned, shifting so he was leaning on his elbow over the boy’s legs, still very much resting on him, “I wonder why?”

Jaskier smirked, “Is it true you’re a child of Poseidon? Why not sink the ship and we can all ride horses made of sea foam back to the mainland?”

Geralt cast his eyes down to the deck, “They’d just come back for more. It doesn’t matter who’s son I am or what favor I do or don't have.” 

"Pull the weed at the root." Jaskier nodded. 

Geralt hummed in agreement, sitting all the way up to lean against the mast next to the brunette, "What about your family? Anything exciting waiting for you at home?"

Jaskier hooked his arm around Geralt's and rested his head on his shoulder, "Doesn't matter." 

"Does to me." Geralt mumbled, a little taken aback by the physical affection. When Jaskier rolled his eyes he laid his hand over his knee, "Humor me." 

They sat and waited for the sun to rise over the water as they discussed Jaskier’s life. His parents death, the farm he worked for his uncle, the mundane little things like how often he gets sent to the market and who cuts his hair. They learned each other's birthdays as a joke, but the hopeful side of Geralt still repeated it to him a few minutes later just to be safe. Jaskier asked him about life at the palace, if it was as grand as everyone believed. Geralt felt squeamish admitting he didn’t know, seeing as he'd only really lived in the lap of luxury. Sure his trek to Athens was dirty and many nights he slept in barns, but most of his 20 years were spent in bright white togas and tunics with colorfully stitched hems. Jaskier didn’t seem bothered, he just asked more specific questions about the beds and the fountains. He pontificated for a while on the poor musical choices made in a performance at the amphitheater last summer and did his best to explain to Geralt how to delicately pluck a harp using a lock of his white hair as a prop. Joking was easy, being earnest wasn’t quite effortless, but it was easier than with other people, and Geralt lamented that they’d only met yesterday. 

“Do you think you’d’ve given me the time of day?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt grinned, giving the brunet's leg another squeeze, “You wouldn’t have given me a choice.”

Jaskier rested his chin on Geralt's shoulder, his hair fluttering into his eyes and glowing gold as the sun began to peek over the waves, "Probably not, no." His voice was soft in Geralt's ear, the warmth of his breath made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. 

Geralt turned to look at him, their noses brushing. He was about to ask Jaskier something reckless and naive, no doubt born of desperation, but the moment was broken by shouting. 

"LAND" Echoed from various soldiers and strangled sobs broke out in response. Reality was once again stubbornly planted in the forefront of Geralt's mind and he forced himself to pull away. His heart beat furiously in his chest as he stood to get a better look. 

Someone gripped his elbow and spun him around, staring up at him with wide eyes full of terror, "You can do it, can't you? You can get us home?" The harsh whisper seemed to carry over the whole group, commanding their silence and attention as they formed a circle around him. 

Vessimir's parting words echoed in his head, he was a leader now, he had to act like it. His year of lessons and training and taking notes were over and he knew right then that even if they made it back, he'd never have a day of peace again. 

With a glance back toward Jaskier he nodded, "I will bring us home or die trying." 

The person's grip on his elbow tightened and he stared back at them with what he hoped was reassuring confidence for a moment before they released him, "Do you have a plan?" 

All his preparation could never have braced him for the absolute devastation on the group's faces when he hesitated. In the fraction of a second he took to open his mouth they knew. Only Jaskier seemed to accept the facts and take them in stride. 

"All I know for sure is that we need to make it out and back to the docks by dawn." Geralt's admission was met with curt nods from some and fresh tears from others, "I'm sorry." 

Jaskier pipped up, stepping into the center of the small crowd with Geralt, "You volunteered to try to save us. We need no apology." He sent a glare to someone about to speak in protest, cutting them off, "It's more than we've had in the last 18 years and I, for one, am grateful." 

Geralt gave him an appreciative nod but their theatrics were drawing attention from the soldiers. He shooed everyone away, not sure he could handle another altercation this close to the soldiers homeland where they'd have something to prove to onlookers.  

As they drew nearer to the shore they heard shouts of laughter and music, saw banners waving in the wind and people dancing around the port. They were throwing a festival. A festival of revenge and dominance over their enemies, where people who would have been sacrifices delighted in the activities. It made Geralt's stomach churn. 

Jaskier stood next to him as close to the bow as they were allowed, "Twisted, isn't it? And they wonder how we so readily believe they eat their brethren." 

Geralt took his hand, searching for anything to ground him as the fear crept up his neck and threatened to strangle him, "Monsters never think they're monsters." 

"You like being cryptic don't you?" Jaskier sighed, keeping his eyes forward as the festivities grew clearer and clearer. 

Geralt only shrugged in response. 

Soon enough they were all corralled by the soldiers with shouts and shoves. They tied Geralt's hands first, yanking on the rope so it burned into his wrists. The man was watching his face, waiting to see him wince or twitch. He gave them nothing. The end of the rope was then tied to Jaskier and so on until they were all lined up, hands bound in front of them and linked like sausages. 

When they docked there was a heavy drum roll, fitting for the captives in line behind Geralt trembling. The plank was lowered by soldiers in what had to be ceremonial dress and when they stepped back the drummers hit one last beat, leaving the whole crowd silent. 

At the front, surrounded by soldiers and standing on a throne made to be carried, was King Minos. His eyes were cold and calculating, and it was clear he was declining in health, but he still invoked fear with his gaze. There was no doubt to any rumors anymore. Geralt was sure this man was capable of absolutely anything. 

The Queen sat in a similar throne, next to them was their daughter, walking but flanked by guards. She didn’t take her eyes off Geralt as they prodded him down the plank. Her eyes were soft, betraying the rest of her face set in a hard mask of disapproval, and she made no effort to hide her ogling. Geralt stared right back, never one to back down from a challenge, until they were ushered past the royals into the crowd. The citizens were far more animated. Some threw food scraps at them, some jeered and gestured rudely, others spat, though they all blamed the 14 young men and women before them for the death of a prince before they were even born. 

They marched through winding streets and up set after set of switchback stairs to reach the palace dungeons. The guards were having their fun with Geralt in the lead, shoving him around when they needed to change direction and tripping him when they passed a large crowd. 

When they finally reached their cells they were shoved in, two to a cell, and the rope was cut. They had to hold their arms through the bars for the soldiers to cut the knotts. They took the rope with them when they left, leaving only bread and water on the bed and one torch lit hanging outside each cell. It was dreary and cold, and Geralt could hear the others crying.

Jaskier broke the loaf of bread in half and tossed it to Geralt, taking a long pull directly from the pitcher of water, “Eat. No arguments.”

__________

part 4 here

tag list: @hailhailsatan @so--many-fandoms

hmu if you want tagged 💕 I will cry tears of joy in my coffee

[m-y-fandoms]

[Aoi Asahina, Sonia Nevermind, Chiaki Nanami, Rantarou Amami, Ibuki Mioda] x reader imagine: comforting an insecure guitarist s/o after their band plays live

Request: Oh my god, are DR blogs coming back again?? This is the third new one I've found this month!! Really happy about that.  Great writing so far by the way! Could you maybe do Asahina, Sonia, Chiaki, Rantaro, and Ibuki (separate) comforting an insecure, guitarist S/O after they just performed a live show with their band? And like, the S/O is really worried that they sucked even though they did well? Oddly specific, I know. Would appreciate it though! Cheers!

OMG I NERDED OUT AND HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH CHIAKI’S, POINTS TO THE FANS WHO GET THE REFERENCE, though it’s an easy one Nishishi~

Thank you for this imagine request and being so specific about what you want while still giving me a lot of creative freedom! I immediately had some simple but cute ideas about this! - Mod Kokichi

Gender Neutral reader, a few brief lewd humorous lines, but SFW otherwise.

Aoi Asahina

- You were nervous, pre-show jitters shuddering through your body, but you couldn’t back out now.

- Not when your super hot, super excited, super supportive girlfriend had hyped you up just before the show.

- “Stage fright?! How’d you even get into a band in the first place with that mentality?!” Hina teased you backstage, mere moments before going on out to preform. She saw you chuckle nervously, not taking her joke as well as she’d hoped.

- She took your hand firmly. “Look, you know that face you love, the one I make when I’m thinking about pastries?” She continued.

- “The one that makes you look like a chipmunk?” You answered flatly.

- “I don’t agree, but yes! That one! When you’re scared up there, imagine me doing that face! Or better yet, I’ll be front row, in the V.I.P. standing section anyway. Just look for me there!” With a peck on your cheek, she gave you a determined look before pushing you toward the stage and disappearing.

- “H-hina!” You stuttered, but it couldn’t be helped, it was time.

- To your surprise, the nervousness went away as your band was about half way through the first song.

1. The attention is mainly on the lead singer.

2. You were focusing on playing too much to fully take in the screaming crowd.

3. You were actually enjoying yourself.

- As the first song ended, however, the music fading out and the crowd going wild, you felt that little pinch of panic settle back in. There was no music to focus on and protect you, just a hundred faces to look out upon.

- Your eyes darted back and forth over the audience, searching. Your breathing came out a little heavier, until your eyes landed on a lean, curvy, athletic figure, with tanned skin and a smile sweet like honey...no, like doughnuts

- She put her hands up near her face like paws, closing her eyes in an open-mouth smile. You smirked, nodding and strumming your strings once again.

- At the end of the show, fans flooded to the hallway that connected the venue’s main hall to the dressing rooms backstage, reaching out to try and grab band members, hoping to take how an autograph or lock of hair as a souvenir, and you rushed through, sweating and ultimately disappointed with the overall performance you put on that night.

- Hina was already waiting in your temporary dressing room for the night, standing and throwing her arms around your neck before praising you endlessly.

- “S/O, that was amazing! That third song, I felt like the bass shook the place! It was intense, like the final lap in a freestyle race, you know?! We gotta bring Sakura next time. I think she’d really get into the pull of the steady rhythm!” Her little dramatic expressions, her brow knitted together passionately as she spoke...she reminded you every day why you fell in love with her.

- “You...you really liked it? I thought I was kinda just going down further and further in quality as the show went on. I felt like shit by the end…”

- “Are you kidding me! It was fantastic. I think the whole audience was immersed. I know I was! Hey...you better not have all these groupies flocking you looking for a piece tonight!” She teased, hugging your arm!

Sonia Nevermind

- Sonia was extremely excited to go to a public concert. Anything that brought her closer to commoners, to feeling like she belonged around ordinary people was just swell to her.

- Even better that it was in a country foreign to her, where she could be immersed in the cultural norms and behaviors.

- Even better that she was watching the one she loved play.

- She was afraid that you’d judge her when she first admitted her love for the occult, horror, and all things gothic and metal.

- You thought that was pretty hot.

- So there she stood, in the front row of your concert, in a poofy green dress with expensive jewelry and accessories decorating her frame. She stuck out like a sore thumb, but Sonia, blissfully unaware, felt like one of the normal people.

- She jumped when the crowd did, her fist in the air, entranced by each note that came from your instrument.

- Sweaty metal-heads and ravers bumped into her endlessly in the tightly packed crowd, and she couldn’t care less.

- You looked amazing up on stage, and she felt like she was a part of some fan fiction she read once.

- You know the trope, where the reader is in the crowd at a famous band’s concert reluctantly, and her favorite member locks eyes with her and either pulls her on stage with them or takes her backstage after the show and ravished her!

- And she felt her love for you and your musical talent swell within her heart.

- After the concert, she met you outside the back door of the venue, and you were shocked silent at her appearance.

- “S-Sonia are you okay??” The tights under her dress were ripped, her bracelet missing some jewels, the bow tie falling out of her blonde locks, which by the way looked like a rat’s nest. Topping the look off were the pit stains under her arms and in the valley of her cleavage.

- “I’m sorry. I knew this would be a shitty experience. I shouldn’t have brought you. The music was bad anyway, huh? I shouldn’t practiced more.” You looked down in shame, before she nearly tackled you, her arms around your neck and kissing you everywhere, up and down your face and neck and chest.

- “D-do not say these things! Tonight was the b-best night of my life!!!” she sputtered, too excited to enunciate. “You looked like a hero in this J-Drama I watched years ago! Like the protagonist Sawayama Keito!! And I??? I was your romantic love interest, the plain Jane in the crowd, Ito Aiyaka!”

- “You really enjoyed it that much?” You could smell the body odor and adrenaline pouring off of her, very un-princess-like, but you couldn’t care less, grinning like a fool.

- “I love you, Sonia, you crazy kid.”

- “Play for me again tonight, in the dorm room…” she spoke desperately.

Chiaki Nanami

- Chiaki did not want to be in that crowd that night.

- A short, skinny, lazy, introverted girl at a live concert full of rabid fans and no seats? Standing room only?

- She briefly mentioned this to you days before the show, not wanting to hurt your feelings. It was something mentioned in passing, in her normal flat and tired tone.

- “I hope I don’t get stepped on...maybe I can bring my Gameboy and play when things get too wild?” She mused, leaning back on you as you prepared to start practicing on the edge of the bed next to her.

- You loved Chiaki, and you knew how to take her hints by now.

- “Chi, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I know crowds aren’t your thing.”

- “No, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she smiled that lazy, half-lidded smile. She loved you too, and she wasn’t about to be the only one on campus not there to support you. She yawned and took your guitar from your hands before falling asleep on your lap.

- You thought the gesture was cute, but inside you were a bit irritated. You’d told her many times prior to that night that you needed all the practice you could get, and that you were afraid of bombing. So why would she purposely stop you in the middle of practicing?

- Oh well. You leaned back, memorizing chords and lyrics in your head until you, too, passed out

- The night of the concert, Chiaki stood in the front row, her backpack strapped to her front, oddly snug on her chest and obviously on backwards, but it was easier to access her Gameboy and fidget toys in case she needed to retreat from the overwhelming noise.

- She told herself they were just for emergencies. She was there for you, and frowned thinking about how you’d feel if you looked down off the stage and saw her not paying attention.

- People piled in, and soon your band came on stage. The lead singer introducing you all.

- Chiaki was already feeling like the ceiling was lowering, like the people around her were far too close, and looked down, hoping seeing just the dark venue floor and her shoes would calm her, one hand on her backpack for security.

- “Oh!” She gasped, her little bangs flying up and her eyes widening like saucers as the lead singer sang the first notes. Three notes, that’s all it took.

- “Aha~aha ah ah...ha~uh huh huh…” the lead singer breathily voiced into the microphone, and Chiaki smiled wider than she had in months.

- You met her eyes on stage knowingly, smirking at first, then suddenly anxious that you might slip up or disappoint her. You strummed two loud, vibrating notes, stern and piercing through the air.

- Again the same two notes, before you joined the singer by the microphone, inhaling before singing in harmony:

- “In you~ and I, there’s a new land~ yeah~he heah!”

- She relaxed, tilting her head back as the sound waves overtook her.

- “Angels in flight~”

- “My sanctuary. My sanctuary, yeah~”

- You didn’t tell her you’d be doing covers that night. Video game covers, nonetheless. Her head shot up, looking at her phone quickly. She looked at the date.

- February 14th.

- Man, she spaced out often…but this…

- She blushed furiously, and her eyes locked with yours. You grew nervous, playing even harder. She swooned and let herself get lost in the bass.

- You played iconic video game themes all night, and by the end, Chiaki was more overwhelmed and exhausted then she’d ever been, but in a good way.

- When you walked into your dressing room back stage with flowers you had hidden earlier, she accepted them with a flush of her cheeks.

- “You didn’t need to do all that...s/o...this was…”

- “Y-you didn’t like it? I was nervous for a month planning this gig. I know I’ve still got a ways to go with playing live but-“

- “I loved it.”

- “What?” You weren’t convinced.

- “I loved it. Every second. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift, I didn’t even realize.”

- “Gifts don’t mean anything to me, Chi. You’re all I need.” you pulled her into your chest for a tight embrace. “You’re My Sanctuary.”

Rantarou Amami

- Rantarou was so excited about seeing your debut concert, snatching the tickets as soon as you presented them to him.

- “Can I bring along my sisters, too, S/O? They’ve been wanting to hear you play ever since I first mentioned that you were in a band.

- “Of course, but...I don’t know why they’d wanna all waste a Saturday night on my shitty band. We don’t even play that well ye-“

- “Silence!” He picked you up by your waist and squeezed you until you couldn’t breath, much less put yourself down with a self deprecating jab. He kissed your cheek playfully. “You’re sexy and the way you play guitar is sexy. I listened you practice all night the other day!”

- “Y-you did? I didn’t even see you!”

- “Huh...” he scoffed, “ maybe because you were lost in your passion, becasue news flash, you’re good at it, stinker!” He pinched your cheek, always knowing how to make you flustered. “Yeah, I heard every single note, and even peaked in once or twice, seeing you stroke those strings so tenderly…” He forced you against the wall, his hot breath against your ear “ I wish you’d stroke me like that.” You face ran hot and you roughly shoved him away, him giggling like a fool.

- “Okay, okay you win, Amami, bring whoever you want!” You stomped off with a huff.

- The day of the concert, the entire front row looked like a field of spring grass, the large family of green-haired siblings shouting before you even began your first song. You shook your head at Rantarou and his many sisters, half-embarrassed, half-flattered. You felt your hands stumble across the strings, Rantarou giving you a thumbs up and a wink.

- After the show, you couldn’t run off the stage any faster. You ran into the staff room backstage where refreshments and spare equipment were usually set out, and were greeted by a row of Amami’s swarming you and praising you, talking much too quickly and all at once. 

- Rantarou simply let his sisters flock you, asking you to teach them to play, to help them meet hot musicians you knew, to learn to read music. You felt your ego rise, flustered once again at the hand’s an an Amami.

Ibuki Mioda

- Ibuki shouted to the band backstage, tuning her guitar and hyping up the other members. She noticed you a little out of place, looking a quite queasy and apprehensive.

- “S/O! The hell are you doin’ over there! Hudddddddle up!” She pulled you by your shoulders.

- “I don’t know why I let you force me into joining the music club...I shouldn’t have mentioned my interest at all…” you grumbled.

- Months ago, Ibuki had heard you, her darling and adorable s/o mentioning that you played guitar in elementary school, and wanted to listen in on her band once practice one in awhile. Well, that was the end of that. She decided it was time to freshen up your skills and get you comfortable with the strings again. Now here you were, moments from your first live performance since you were 10 years old.

- “Whaaat! That’s like, a major no no, that low energy, ya dig?!” She held your hand, swinging it back and forth with a feral look on her face. “You’re bitchin’! And Ibuki is bitchin’! And tonight we’re gonna set the stage on fire!”

- The show went on as planned, you and Ibuki on guitar while she screamed into the front mic. Your drummer just barely cut through the vibrations of your combined sound waves, and you buckled down and reminded yourself that with Ibuki at your back, that stage was yours. That audience was yours.

- Plus...who was staring at you when Ibuki was up front, looking like that, acting like that. That passion, that intensity, it’s what drew you to her in the first place.

- The crowd roared viciously, opening up a mosh pit in front of your neon gothic goddess of a girlfriend, and you couldn’t have found her more attractive than you did right now, her arms swinging open, releasing the guitar and simply bellowing into the mic, commanding the hellish pit in front of her like one of the succubi from Gundham’s wild tall tales.

- You suddenly felt so unworthy of her in all her glory, simply providing the backup and harmonies.

- When the show ended, you and Ibuki equally carried each other back stage to the school’s stagehand room, leaning on each other’s sweaty bodies for support.

- “Sheesh, that was straight fire tonight, s/o, huh?! Immolation on the stage, in the fleeeesh!” She shredded an air guitar in front of her before collapsing on a folding chair. How did she still have any energy at all?! You scoffed incredulously. “ Ibuki was worried for a second there, but we pulled it off! I knew we’d be amazing!” Huh???

- “You were worried?” You quickly realized what she probably meant, “Oh...like nervous that I’d mess it up for us?” Her eyes widened, a shocked look on her face as her hands flew up to her hair.

-“What? No! Ibuki was worried about Ibuki~” She grimaced.

- “Why would you ever be nervous, you’re the best musician for miles around.” You drank from a water bottle before tossing it to her. She caught it in one hand, downing it.

- “Hey, Ibuki gets worried too~” She winked at you, a flirty glimmer in her eye as she held up a heart made from her connected hands. “But s/o is Ibuki’s rock! Partners in crime, yeah? No need to worry with you at my back tearing it up!”

[redevenir]

lonely are the brave

wc : almost 3k

a/n : @exolssecretsanta​  here it is, my present for @mmmhs​, as a part of the #exolssecretsanta2020 it’s me ! your secret santa ! hopefully you’ll have a good time reading this ! Also The plot is entirely based on the movie The Spy, which is about the life of Sonja Wigert, and I strongly encourage you to read about her after you read this fic (so you won’t get spoiled) because it is incredible and she deserves to be remembered. And the title is from the 1962 Kirk Douglas movie, based on Edward Abbey’s The Brave Cowboy. It’s an excellent movie, and probably a very, very good book. The settings are very different but the title fitted too well. Merry Christmas, I wish you the very best. More importantly I think I wish for 2021 to be exactly what you need it to be.

As the entire theater bursts into applaudes, Kyungsoo thinks you might just be what he needs. Even in shades of gray on the big screen, your magnetism is undeniable. He claps a few times as you deserve it, and since his every move are being watched, it’s a quick way of expressing his satisfaction. He leaves the movie room before anyone else has stopped cheering.

***

You can’t keep your eyes off the newspaper. The head of the new Governor occupies two thirds of the front page. You sigh. It is still hard to believe the Empire has won, once again, and this war they won in two days. It’s humiliating even for you, and they haven’t reached your country yet. They didn’t defeat you. You are no soldier, you are not general. You’re not even in the war force, and the kingdom isn’t yet at war. But there is something excrutiatingly mortifying to read the news every morning, nails painted of red, and contemplating the fall of this world as a bystander. You wonder how fast they’ll take the kingdom next. Of course, it has to be their next move. Maybe they won’t even pretend to wage a war. Maybe the Queen will just bend the knee. Your hear a soft pshh when the ash of your cigar falls into your cup of tea. You hear your name, and a croissant is thrown your way.  

« So ? What do you think ? He looks weird, right ? I mean, weird for the job ? Chanyeol gently taps the face of the Governor with his own croissant. I mean, he looks all… He gesture vaguely, throwing crumbles your way. It’s always harder for him to find his words in the morning. You guess it’s because it takes him some time to be properly awake.

Intellectual ?

Yes ! He smiles but his eyes are cold and mocking. They usually come all… He tries to sit straighter and extand his shoulders to show you what he means.

Bulked up and ready to kill you with their bare hands ? His mouth full, he nods and claps his hands once in agreement. You look back at the photography. Governor Do has a stern face. Eyebrows heavy, black hair cut short, thick glasses. He does not seem very large, even in his uniform. This one, you begin, as Chanyeol stands up to empty your ruined cup of tea and fix you a new one, this one is going to make fool of us all. You drink one to that. That’s why they didn’t send an obvious brute. They think he’s going to seduce us, and win us without a kill. You put your cup down a little too hard. Fuck him.

So, what’s your plan for today ? He properly buttons up his shirt, and you eye the disappearing skin all the way. The look you send him is full of fire and decadent promises. Ah, don’t look at me like that now, I must go ! You avert you gaze, back to your newspaper. He catches your smile as he puts his jacket on.

I know, I know, so do I. I have an appointment with Junmyeon, I’m assuming a new movie, the musical is really exhausting, at least with movies I can have normal workdays, you dramatically sigh, the back of your hand on your forehand, as if about to die.

That’s the price of success, my dear. He bends over to kiss you as you stand up to kiss him, leaning against him. I’ll give you a reward of my own tonight if you will, he adds, and payfully smacks your butt before heading out. I love you, good luck !

***

Luck is indeed what you need when you read the invitation Junmyeon hands you. Handwritten, neat, efficient. Both personal and artificial as can be, like any good performance. The twist your stomach makes is almost enough for you to throw up. You remain silent while he scans your face. It has always been clear where Junmyeon stands : where the money lies.

So ?

What ?

Will you go ? You weigh your words carefully. When your eyes meet his, you realize Junmyeon hasn’t set his mind himself.

Why would I ? It’s just an invitation to dinner. I have no reason to go.

***

It’s exactly why you have to go. We might be at war soon, milady. It is an opportunity for us to find out more about their plans. We need you to go to Governor Do.

You keep your eyes on your reflection as you wipe your make-up off. It is only the two of you in the changing room. Most of the lights are off, except for the fairy lights. You like it better that way. It’s more intimate and peaceful. You like how the little glitters in the Christmas tinsels reflect the light, like fireflies of many colors. But what the minister is telling you is shattering you from inside, like a very slow explosion – or maybe you are about to implode and collapse on yourself. He leaves you no choice but to become a huntress in the shadows.

***

You don’t tell Chanyeol about it. You don’t know where Chanyeol stands. Him, who sleeps in your sheets, who praises you like it would save his life, who loves making romantic gestures in a most bombastic way. You don’t know where Secretary Park, from a little ambassy stands. After all, the country he comes from has already signed a pact with the Empire. They pledged immediately and before any other nation. You assume, from the way he talks about them, that he is not fond of his leaders. But what do you know. You lie awake on your bed for hours, letting your body cool down, staring at the ceiling like it might hold all the answers. You shiver, and don’t even bother to sit up to smoke. You don’t need answers, you just wish for peace of mind – it is a luxury of the past now. When Chanyeol enters, a few hours before sunset, he thinks you look worse than he does, and he joins you wordlessly, looking for the comfort in the touch of your tender skin. He doesn’t tell you about his problems, and lets the both of you zone out, bodies intertwined as one. Later, when you both wake up, he smoothers you with kisses, and the fire in your head blinds your worries away.

You don’t talk about it.

***

Chanyeol doesn’t ask you anything when you come back from your work trip. He just wonders if it went well. When you shrug and sigh in answer, he takes it upon himself to make you feel better, and his kisses have never been more delicate on your skin, and he feels like a sun, radiating warmth and life and feeding it to your tired skin. When he nibs lightly on your ribs and you ruffle his hair, you feel his smile against you. Eyes closed, you feel him moving up to your face. His voice his only a whisper, but it deep and stable when he calls your name and asks what is wrong. You keep your eyes closed but he watches your face from the side, how harshly you bite your lower lip before licking it.

I don’t think I should say it. You feel too bad to notice the restrained sigh against your ear. He pulls you closer to him, until you lie on top of him, forehead against his chest, determined to avoid his gaze. His right hand finds its way through your hair to cup the back of your head, and he assures you he understands.

I just wish I could fix it for you. He feels the shadow of your smile against his skin.

You’re doing all right, Chan.

You don’t tell him about the dinner. You don’t tell him about the indecent dress you wore, about the most light fabric it was made of. How it looked like you were naked under a waterfall. How all eyes were on you the minute you walked in, except those of the new Governor. You keep to yourself the way they pierced right through you, and how enthousiastic he was to talk with you. You don’t tell him about the evening you spent discussing movie and literature with a war lord, and you try to forget his lingering hand on the small of your back when you left, and his offer to do this again, since having you among the company was a delight. You push down the half hidden threats whispered in your ear during the dance and pretend it was all a dream.

It doesn’t work.

You stop dreaming.

***

It becomes regular. Every few weeks you’re invited west of the border. First for evenings. Then for several days. Kyungsoo, as he insists you call him, lets you an entire wing of his mansion, to use as you please. You have no use to it. You don’t dare to ask him who were the previous owners of the place. Or where they are now.

It is lovely though. Decorated with a keen eye, even if it is a bit old fashioned. Lots of floral patterns on the walls, as to reflect the exuberance of the gardens around the residence. He offers you all sorts of pretty things, dresses and night gowns and shawls of the finest fabric. You spend hours discussing every matter that catches your attention. He inquires your opinion about everything, and sometimes you believe it is genuine interest and not a test anymore. He takes you to walks in the woods and teaches you how to shoot – just in case. When you ask him who might threaten you,  he puts his hand on you cashmere-covered waist and through it you feel his warmth. His eyes are on the same level as yours when he confesses, as he’d believe you might be his equal. You let him kiss you, a whole in the chest and your heart in the throat.

The minister of home intelligence is satisfied when you tell him the news. A sympathetic look in the eyes, he pats you on the shoulder, thanking you for your sacrifice, and urging you to keep up the good work.

***

Chanyeol watches you decrepit. He wonders why you don’t ask him about his absences. He tries to bring life back into you. He dances with you and reads with you. He makes love to you like he’s offering you his soul – he is. Since you don’t want to talk about what’s troubling you, he shares everything instead. Almost. He tells you about his childhood, about his home. About his college years and about his first love stories. He tells you about some of his colleagues, and how he hates the war. He tells you he wants to go away, when all of this will be over. To where there is music and joy. He lies naked before you, exposing himself more than ever before. Everything is yours to see, every last bit of his soul. Only one secret he keeps for himself.

***

Shades of grey don’t do you any justice, Kyungsoo decides. He dreams of glitter and colours to project, to have a more accurate image of you when you’re leagues away. For a few weeks, he toys with the idea of making you the face of Hope. You could be the Empire’s most glamorous face. When he mentions it to minister Byun, the response is thrilled, and Baekhyun assures him he’ll find the crème de la crème to work on this most ambitious project. What Kyungsoo doesn’t expect is your reluctant answer. He watches it all happen silently on your face. Conversations between the two of you often take time. You don’t think in the same langage. You rarely talk in either of your mother tongues. And you’re both quite cautious around each other. He really doesn’t want to mess this up. There is a fire in you he wants to stir up, not to put it out. There is not taming you in his mind.

When you tell him you’re not sure about meddling you’re career and your personal life, he knows he has to put a ring on it.

***

Every night you sleep at the mansion, you allow yourself one hour of rummaging in Kyungsoo’s office. The rest of it is spent imagining the face of the traitors. Or you think about the wonders of self control you’ve unfolded the day he proposed. You are a terrific actress indeed.

***

When the newspapers of both countries announce you are engaged, you understand what sacrifice you have made. You never see Chanyeol again.

***

The night you find the pictures is a relief. Even you know they’re dangerous. Every little rock on the shores of your country is there, carefully spotted. The map stored with them identifies them all. You know the next time you leave Kyungsoo will be the last.

When you give them to the Minister, you ask for a new passport. And a way out. He asks if you have any idea of who the contact might be. You say it’s someone in an ambassy. You say there’s not just one person. You say they’re everywhere. You say it’s over. You don’t mention the fact that everyone has turn their back on you. Because you’re the face of national complacency.

Maybe that’s why they come to you directly. For the first time, they come knocking to your door. You recognize them as Chanyeol’s coworkers. Jongin, Minseok. They say Kyungsoo asked them to drop by – see if you were all right. You know that’s not what he said. If there is one thing Kyungsoo values about you, and takes pride in, it’s precisely the fact that you don’t need nor want to be babied. When they see your smile, and the absence of light your eyes, they both shift their balance. Your face remain unreadable when they ask you about your former lover, and Jongin realizes why Governor Do has set his mind on you. You’re stronger than most of the people he has met – including the governor. There is no point trying to fool you, so he goes straight to the point.

Where’s Chanyeol ? So he was a traitor. Good riddance – your heart climbs his way up your throat – it’s been a long time.

I don’t know.

Are you sure, presses Minseok. Jongin’s glad the disgusted twist on your lips isn’t adressed to him. It is humilating, even in second-hand.

In case you haven’t noticed, I got engaged. I don’t know to who’s shoulder Chanyeol went crying. Jongin wonders if his past lovers speak as lowly of him as you do now. Chanyeol might be a deceiving bastard, but he was a nice guy to be around otherwise. He clears his throat.

Is there any place he might have told you of ? Where he could be now ? You hum slowly.

The lonely islands. He has a cabin there. Likes to be alone to meditate or whatever.

Could you take us there. One, two, three, you have nothing left to loose.

All right.

***

Nothing has changed. The island is still exactly the same. Every rock, every sprig of lichen. The gentle howling of the wind, caressing your cold ears, caressing your eyelids, caressing your lips as if saying, just this one more time. You bit the inside of your lower lip hard and don’t let go. You have no word to tell them. You watch them climb their way out the small boat, and head toward the wood cabin. You don’t mention there is no other boat tied up to the rocks – their time is worthless.

You come inside right after them. The amount of dust on every surface is the same as the last time you came here, only weeks ago. It feels like years and years have passed by, but it is merely an illusion of your stretched heart. You let your gaze brush over the scarce furniture, trying to put your attention on attention itself, blocking any harmful thoughts. You feel the cracks in your armour. Of what could have been. Of what you let go. Of what you gave up.

You notice the guitar, and a rush of adrenaline blows away your attemps at meditation.

He’s here.

You leave the room, aiming for the water closet. You close the door, sit down and bite your fist as hard as you can.

***

It’s you. It can only be you. Chanyeol watches you enter the room through the floor slits. You’re having a mental break down, he can tell. But he cannot make it to why you are here in the first place. You’ve never tried to talk to him since he stopped coming to you. The Governor’s fiancee. His jaw tenses. No wonder you couldn’t tell him what was wrong. How could you hide it from him he understands. How you were probably used for it by your own government tears his heart apart. If only he had told you what his business was. What he was working for – the very same thing you were fighting for. The wooden floor is only a couple centimeters’ thick, but it is far enough to keep him from touching you. How he wished he could console you know. Tell you everything will be repaired. Take you to dance and fireworks. Oh, to hesitate between the prettiest of flowers at the shop and settle for all of them. To fix you cups of tea and quick meals.

***

In the kitchen, Minseok abruptly opens a drawer.

***

For miles around, every submarine reports the explosion.

[spookyold-saintjm]

yancy 182 184 and 192(?)

182: “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

184: “Can I touch you?”

From this prompt list

A little heated, but wasn’t feeling up to full Yancy smut yet. Soon!

I didn’t put in 192 because I have an idea for it elsewhere 👀

NSFW(ish) Yancy x reader

Weeks, months had passed since you’d agreed to stay at Happy Trails Penitentiary, and you and your new friend Yancy had spent much more time together than you’d anticipated. Yancy’s prison family, which had quickly become yours as well, might have given him a hard time about it, had he not knocked out one of Sparkles McGee’s front teeth the first time he brought it up.

There was nothing overtly romantic about anything the two of you did together, playing card games, sharing stories, watching tv, eating meals together…

But, there were instances when Yancy would throw his arm over your shoulders, or that your hand would accidentally brush over his when reaching into the popcorn bucket sitting between the two of you during movie nights. Moments that sent tiny jolts of electricity through your nerves.

Sometimes you’d feel Yancy stiffen up when you sat down beside him on one of the benches in the prison yard, close enough to him that your thighs touched, or he would start to stutter when you’d make a compliment about his appearance before a performance with the family’s little musical theater group.

If you weren’t together, you were probably thinking about him. You’d settle down for bed at the end of the night and find your thoughts drifting to fond memories of the day, of plans you had coming up. You would even catch yourself thinking about just him, his slicked-back hair, his deep voice, his muscular arms, his hands, his lips… 

You were quick to shake those thoughts from your mind. You couldn’t be attracted to Yancy like that. You couldn’t. He had better things to worry about than you. 

What you didn’t know, was that Yancy thought about you, too. The few extra minutes he put into perfecting his appearance before popping over to your cell to visit, the extra hours he’d been putting in for new songs he’d been working on…he wouldn’t admit it, but it was fueled by you. The hopes to impress you, to maybe, give him the courage to say something to you about how he felt. How interesting and attractive he found you, how your voice made his entire day brighter, how he had never felt so good inside before, so…whole, when he was with you.

One evening, everyone was in the game room to play a rather intense night of Bingo, but you both had fairly shitty cards and after a few rounds had given up and decided to instead retreat to Yancy’s cell to catch up on the books you both had been reading. You split from Yancy to grab your book from your own cell first, quickly grabbing it from the bedside table, but paused when you decided that you wanted to be a little more comfortable for the night. You unbuttoned the black-and-white striped shirt you’d been wearing and tossed in onto your bed, leaving only a white tank that rested just a little above the waistband of your striped pants before you strolled back over to Yancy’s cell. 

You found Yancy already sitting on his bed, legs stretched out across the floor and crossed at the ankles, his book already open in his hands.

He looked up to greet you, but froze. You stared back at him, quirking an eyebrow at his sudden mood shift, then realized that this was likely the first time he had seen you in any sort of remotely revealing clothing. You forced yourself to quickly, casually, plop down beside him, grinning as you lightly punched him in the arm. 

“Don’t distract me this time, this book is getting good.” you said playfully, praying that ignoring his reaction to you would make the blush creeping its way up your neck and into your cheeks die a rotten death.

“I, ah…oh! Yeah, yeah, youse got it.” he trailed off, quickly shifting his gaze back down to the book in his hands.

You settled into a calm silence as you both began to read, but you couldn’t get past the first two pages of your book. Yancy’s very presence next to you was, like it had been for some time now, clouding your mind. You were all too aware every inch of his skin that touched yours, and one hand holding his book with the other resting dangerously close to your thigh. The scent of whatever infuriatingly intoxicating cologne he’d managed to swipe from a security guard’s locker was coursing through your senses. The sound of his breathing rang in your ears like a siren. 

Yancy was in a similar situation. You’d come into his cell, and were sitting on his bed, looking like…that. You hadn’t meant anything by it, he knew this, but you continued to give him more reasons to find you handsome and/or beautiful, inside and out.

He let out a short, but heavy sigh. He was really going to do it, wasn’t he?

“Y/n.” He began, but stopped when you looked over at him, your eyes staring holes through to his soul. He had to work the words around in his mouth a couple times before they would come out. “There’s something I wanna tell youse, and, well, I don’t want youse to think I’m, ah fuck, well, what I means is—“

Your lips slammed against his in a single, sudden movement, and Yancy fell back a little bit at the abrupt contact. The tension that been thickening in the room seemed to dissipate, and soon Yancy had recovered and pushed himself back up, his mouth now exploring yours as if it were the last time he’d have the opportunity. 

You slid your body even closer to his, turning so that you were all but sitting on his lap. He pulled away from you just slightly, for the two of you to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other.One of his hands suddenly reached out for you, but he withdrew it just as quickly. He was itching to put his hands all over you, everywhere at once, but he couldn’t focus on a single place to start.

“Can…can I touch you?” he asked. You nodded, and when he still hesitated, you gently guided one of his hands to now fully rest on your thigh. His fingers quickly glided up to rest around your waist, and his other hand followed suit. You slid yourself now fully onto his lap, and your lips met again once you threw your arms around and behind his neck. The kiss was far more heated this time, and you felt Yancy’s grip on your waist tighten when you allowed him access into your mouth. You were certain there wasn’t much of a first time for anything like this for him, but it had definitely been a while. You could feel the adrenaline and pent-up desire practically begging to get out. And you couldn’t say you didn’t quite feel the same. 

His hands started to wander, up the sides of your body, and back down again. You returned the favor by pulling your mouth away from his, earning a grunt of frustration from him which quickly turned to a catch in his breath when you began to scatter kisses along his jaw, down the side of his neck. 

“y/n…” he sighed when you landed on a particular spot on his collarbone and you smiled into him as you gave the spot some extra attention.

His fingers slid under your tank top, teasing the skin underneath. You helped him slip the tank over your head, and you tossed it somewhere to the other side of the room. His shirt followed behind not long after, and soon you both were a mess of wandering hands, frantic to learn every inch of each other. You turned to wrap your legs around his torso, and he held you tight against him, your bare chest pressed against his. 

When he pulled you in for a kiss again, you tested him with the slightest roll of your hips and were pleasantly surprised to not only hear but feel the effect you were having on him. You huffed out a curse at the realization and felt Yancy smile into your mouth. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long…” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper in your ear, sending a shiver through your entire body. 

“I know,” you sighed, pulling a curl of his now-messy hair away from his face. “Me, too.”

He moved to kiss the skin under your ear, down your neck. Your fingers trailed down his chest, leaving the faintest of marks while he took his time tasting your skin.

Between the sound of both your heavy breaths, a herd of voices faintly registered in your ears, then grew louder as a group of other inmates turned the corner that led down the hall to Yancy’s cell. You cursed and leapt off the bunk, scrambling to grab the clothing you’d both thrown across the cell. You threw Yancy’s shirt to him and quickly pulled yours back over your head as the footsteps drew closer. You ran back over to sit next to Yancy, although a little farther apart than you’d been before, swiftly fixing your hair back to its normal state with one hand and flipping your book open to a random page with the other.

  You both recovered just in time, as Tiny, Jimmy, and Heapass walked by the open cell door, laughing about something that had happened during the Bingo game. They only greeted the two of you with friendly waves, thankfully noticing nothing amiss about the two of you.

Well, except for Tiny, who silently gestured to your now-backwards tank top. She wiggled her eyebrows at you then flicked her gaze over toward the now crimson-faced Yancy, the smug amusement glowing in her eyes.

Shit.

[seasidewriter1-writes]

Moulin Rouge! !Balance/Obi-Lara AU

Hi, this is really long, I’m so sorry :)

Let’s start with a dramatis personae of sorts:

First on the stage is Obi-Wan Kenobi. A quiet hopeless romantic, born to a well-off family, a lover of philosophy and free-thinking, a man who has five dozen journals filled with thoughts and theories and ideas and interpretations. He moves to Paris to be amongst like minded folk, and perhaps––just perhaps––pursue the career that his father had called ‘hopeless, romanticized, and penniless.’ A writer.

The next player here is Elara Skywalker. In keeping with the Moulin Rouge! vernacular, she is the establishments ‘Sparkling Diamond.’ Revered for her beauty and her captivating performances, all eyes are on her whenever she’s on stage. It’s not a job that she detests, but there are aspects of it that are rather unkind that she doesn’t like. For her, romance is something that only lives in the pages of the books hidden under her bed; but it’s something she wishes she might be able to glimpse some day.

And then there’s her brother, Anakin Skywalker. A bright, enthusiastic, cocky young man who works as a stage hand at the Moulin Rouge. He’s good at what he does––ties the best knots, gets the set pieces on or off the stage on time, runs props from stage right to stage left. He is incredibly protective of his sister (and the other dancers, quite frankly), and has been known to chase out handsy patrons when the bouncers are nowhere to be found. And if you’re chased out by Anakin Skywalker, you are not coming back; and if you try, the boys up front know who you are because Anakin has given them detailed descriptions of the men who are not allowed to come back.

Obi-Wan moves into a boarding house in Paris, happy to be free of the stuffiness of the social circle he used to inhabit, and finds himself almost immediately accosted by the people that he came to seek out

I say accosted because Anakin Skywalker slams right into him as he comes barreling down the stairs, shouting an apology because ‘he’s late for work'

The next day, rather early, Anakin knocks on Obi-Wan’s door and apologizes for the day before, and invites him upstairs for coffee

His flat is the perfect example of what Obi-Wan pictured the Parisian bohemian (the 1900s view of bohemianism, that is) life to be like

A messy bed laden with threadbare but bright pillows, clothing draped over chair backs, papers and books stacked in piles, old, beautiful advertising posters from theatres propped up against various walls

Hell, Anakin looks like the bohemian Obi-Wan expected to see the city rife with

Messy, curly hair, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, unbuttoned brocaded vest, no tie or cravat, roguish grin

Obi-Wan comes to realize that Anakin’s very much the free-thinking kind of person that he’d been hoping to meet

Their friendship starts out as afternoon chats over coffee

They get along famously and have lengthy conversations about anything and everything

Anakin then invites Obi-Wan to come visit his place of work––the Moulin Rouge

Obi-Wan knows of the establishment, it’s impossible not to

And he’s hesitant to agree. Because such establishments, though frequented by the men (and male family members) back home, they were still considered ‘dens of disrepute’; and though he doesn’t have a reputation to worry over anymore, the instinct is still burned into him

But after some convincing––“It isn’t what you think it is. It’s art. And if you’re in Paris, you have to take in the art. I’ll even buy you your first drink.”––he agrees to go

When he arrives, Obi-Wan is absolutely dazzled, to the point of stunned––the lights, the music, the atmosphere, it’s all so much

Everything seems so free; the drinks are flowing, the energetic joy is pervasive, the entertainment is lively... it’s everything that he’s not used to, and he’s enthralled

And then he sees her.

The Sparkling Diamond, in all her glory, performing on the stage––and she is gorgeous. Her dress is dripping with sparkling beads; it catches the light in such a way that makes it impossible for anyone to miss her

And despite his gentlemanly upbringing, all he can do is stare

He’s entranced by everything about her, from the command she had of the stage, to the dazzling smile that pulled across red painted lips

The night starts to wind down, different performance sets come and go, and all Obi-Wan can think about is her

And then Anakin pops out from backstage and, with a bright grin, asks him to follow, because there’s someone he’d like Obi-Wan to meet

He’s led backstage and to a private dressing room––inside of which is her. The dancer.

Whom Anakin introduces as his sister, Elara

Which, quite honestly, floors Obi-Wan

But once Anakin had revealed the relation, he could see it––in their eyes, in their smiles...

Elara’s still wearing her glittering, sparkling dress, with a short skirt and thin straps; but she’s smiling at Obi-Wan and that’s all he can see

And, funnily enough, that’s the first thing that she notices about him––his smile

And then she notices that he doesn’t gawk. He’s not hungrily eyeing her legs or reaching out to touch her bare arm; his eyes have respectfully remained north of her shoulders, even when he tucked forward to kiss the back of her hand

Obi-Wan Kenobi seemed to be a perfect gentleman

After the cabaret closes for the night, Elara invites them both back to her room for a nightcap

Obi-Wan’s initial reaction is panic––he’s being invited back to the room of a very beautiful woman who works at the very notorious Moulin Rouge (how his mother would swoon at the thought)

But he’s also being invited back with her brother, so that eased the panic a little

But, still, he’s initially very polite––“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”––and she insists––“Please, I insist. Believe me, it is of no imposition or inconvenience.”––so he accepts

So during this nightcap, hard-working Anakin straight-up passes out in an armchair, his drink half-drunk and still in his hand

Which leaves Obi-Wan and Elara effectively alone in the lavishness of her room

And that, again, puts him on edge again, because he has no idea how to guide this conversation

He’d been raised in an environment where men spoke philosophy in a smoky, whisky drenched study and women gossiped in perfumed, well-lit parlors

And it is to his great relief when he discovers Elara is quite the conversationalist

She asks if he’s read Shakespeare and, almost started, he replies ‘yes,’ and suddenly their deep in a conversation about The Bard; and it’s all flowing so easily

One minute they’re talking about Shakespeare, the next he’s explaining Platonism, and then Elara’s giggling as she tells him about Anakin’s not-so-secret relationship with her friend, another talented dancer named Padmé

He’s genuinely never sat down with a woman before and just... talked without fear of pretense or status quo; and he’s enjoying it very, very much

By the time Obi-Wan leaves––let out the side door by Elara herself––his tie is undone and loose under his collar, the sun is rising, and he’s smiling brighter than he has done in years

Soon enough, he’s going to the Moulin Rouge every night, and if it’s not to see the performances, it’s Elara letting him in through the back door so they can have a nightcap and a conversation

In this time, Obi-Wan speaks about the stuffiness that drove him from home, and Elara reveals she initially took the job after her and Anakin’s mother’s death as a way to provide for themselves

In the afternoons, if she’s not rehearsing, sometimes Elara goes to visit Anakin

Which turns into her excuse to go see Obi-Wan, showing up at his door with a ‘I came to see my brother, but he’s still sleeping.’ Which turns into him asking if he can ‘tempt her with a cup of coffee and some good conversation.’

And then something hits Obi-Wan hard––very hard: he’s in love with her

He’s in love with the diamond of the Moulin Rouge

Half of him is ecstatic, yet shocked, about the revelation––and the other half warns him against it

That second half speaks in the voice of his father, in the voice of propriety; that falling in love with a dancer is not what he should do, especially when she’s so sought after

He agonizes over this for days. Days. He struggles with what to do––either reject the feelings or throw himself headlong into them

And then one day, Obi-Wan gets his answer

He and Elara are sat on his narrow, uncomfortable loveseat, his back against one arm rest, hers against the other. Her feet are in his lap and his are dangling off the edge of the cushions. And they’re just reading quietly. Neither of them has spoken for at least an hour. And it’s so nice. Everything about it feels perfect

Obi-Wan happens to look up and sees Elara reading her copy of Much Ado About Nothing, one of her knuckles pressed to her lower lip, eyes rapidly flickering over the words on the page

And that is when he knows his answer

To hell with it––if he loves her, he loves her, and he damn well better do something about it

And he does.

In a dramatic gesture worthy of a romance novel, he throws his book down onto the floor, which is enough to get Elara to look up in surprise

“What are you doing?” she asks through a little laugh, and with a smile.

And Obi-Wan moves her legs off his lap and shuffles himself closer to her

He slowly pulls the book out of her hands, drops it to the floor, and brings his hand up to clasp her cheek

Their foreheads gently come to rest together, their noses brushing...

Elara’s fingers slip beneath the collar of his shirt, only to glide up the side of his neck to come to rest on his cheek

And that’s when he kisses her, slow and sweet and reverent

And their books remain forgotten on the floor, fictitious tales of romance giving way for the real thing

I, uhh, got carried away on that! But if any of y’all have read it all and want elaborations on anything/want more, let me know! I kinda just did a basic AU this time around, not much plot.

[manage-mischief]

Conjunctions

Summary: I wrote this drabble for @blisfvll on tumblr's writing challenge. Thanks for giving me a prompt for inspiration! I've been having a bit of writer's block lately so it was good to get creative. (also the next chapters of Regulus Black and the Darkest Shadows will be up next week, sorry for not posting this week my beta and I have both been insanely busy!) 

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Read on AO3 or FF.net

“Lils.”

“Hold on,” Lily said, holding up a finger. She was deeply engrossed in her Transfiguration textbook, doing some last-minute review before her morning exam.

“Lils.”

“Mhm.”

“Lily!”

The sudden shout shocked her. She dropped her book, exasperated. “What?!” she spat—a bit harsher than intended—at her boyfriend who was sitting across the breakfast table. James’s eye widened.

“You’ve got your elbow in your porridge…” 

Lily realized her left elbow did feel a bit wet. She looked down and, sure enough, she had been using her oatmeal as an arm rest. She cursed under her breath before swiftly cleaning herself up with a flick of her wand. Sirius, James’s best mate, snickered.

“Merlin, Evans,” Sirius teased, “Stressed out much?”

Lily rolled her eyes, but stuffed her book in her bag anyways. Sirius did have a point. She’d studied enough. Still, she could feel her leg bouncing wildly with nervous anticipation. This wasn’t just an exam: it was a NEWT. It was one of a series of tests that would determine the rest of her life. Her job, her happiness, her ability to support herself and a family…Lily shook herself out of her spiral of worrying. It wouldn’t do her any good.

“You should eat something, Lil,” said James, kindly. “Erm…maybe not that porridge though…”

Lily smiled in spite of herself and plucked James’s bagel out of his hands. “Thanks,” she muttered with a mouth full of warm bread. James feigned indignation.

“Oi, Prongs, that’s the price of dating Lily. She steals your food,” said Sirius, as he proceeded to swipe a sausage from James’s plate.

“A bargain price to pay for Lily’s affection,” said James. “But not for you, you wanker!” James locked Sirius in a playful wrestling match, attempting to retrieve his stolen food from Sirius’s fork. The two boys caused quite the ruckus, drawing the attention of many of the surrounding students, who had suddenly noticed their cutlery dancing across the table as the two boys fought.

“Stop hurting me, or I’ll write your mum!” Sirius wailed, stretching his arm just out of James’s reach. “You know she loves me best!”

“Hey!” said James, “I know it’s true, but hey!”

Remus, who had been quietly observing the scene, struck out with lightning fast reflexes and grabbed the fork from Sirius’s hand, promptly popping the coveted sausage into his mouth with a satisfied grin. James and Sirius looked properly affronted.

Lily chuckled. “Boys,” she muttered. She smiled gratefully at James. He and his friends never failed to cheer her up.

“I had to fight back!” James earnestly explained. “It was a matter of honor!”

“You don’t have to explain yourselves to me,” said Lily. “I know Remus just can’t resist grabbing Sirius’s sausage.”

Remus choked on his pumpkin juice, red as a tomato. James and Sirius laughed heartily.

“Evans! I knew there was a reason we kept you around.” Sirius nodded at her, approvingly.

“Merlin, Lil! See, this is why I love you!” James froze as soon as the words left his mouth. His eyes widened in shock, as did Lily’s. Her face flushed as red as Remus’s had. She was speechless.

Remus cleared his throat. “C’mon, Sirius, we’ve got to get to that…thing.”

Sirius stayed put. “No, I wanna know…Ow!” The table rattled as Remus obviously kicked the other boy in the shin, flashing a warning look.

“Oh,” Sirius stammered, “oh yeah. Right. The thing. Let’s go, Moons.’”

The two boys departed, leaving James and Lily alone at the breakfast table. Neither would meet the other’s eye. Lily tried to force herself to say something, anything, however, her vocal chords stayed obstinately stiff. She was too shocked. After a few seconds silence, James stood. He looked mortified. “You know what,” he said, hastily, “I’d better go help them with the…thing…Good luck on the exam, you’ll ace it I’m sure…I’ll see ya later, yeah?”

“James—” Lily tried to call after him as he rushed from the hall. She felt awful. She hadn’t said it back. She should have. She’d wanted to. But, she had been so surprised and, in the moment, had panicked. And now, James thought she didn’t love him. Before she could ponder her mistake any further, the bell rang. Dammit. It was exam time. This debacle would have to wait.

---

The exam had been a breeze. Lily was relieved. Now, she had a week before her next NEWT. And, this meant she had time to brainstorm how to make it up to James.

She was laying on her bed, making random objects float around her head. She had no idea what to do. James was always the hopeless, dramatic, romantic type. And, frankly, he was usually the one apologizing to her. If their roles had been reversed, he’d have concocted some elaborate scheme to win back Lily’s affections—likely involving plots, dramatics, and the help of his gang of friends…His friends…that was it! Lily shot up from her laying position, invigorated. She was concocting a plan. Yes, yes, Lily now had a grand plan to declare her love for James Potter. She dashed down the stairs, clear on what she had to do next.  In order to perform her grand, elaborate gesture, Lily would need the help of James’s best friends.

Luckily enough for Lily, the boys were all lounging in the Common Room—sans James. Lily knew he would be at Quidditch practice for the next hour and a half. Hopefully, this would give her enough time to organize her gesture.

“Remus!” Lily called out from across the room. “Sirius! Peter! I need your help!”

“Well, if it isn’t ‘heartless Lily Evans’ herself?” Sirius teased. He leaned back in his chair dangerously, resting his feet on the small wooden table. Peter chuckled until Lily flashed him a death glare. The runty little boy fell silent.

“I’m serious—I swear if you make a joke I’ll hex your balls off, Black!” Lily warned, just as Sirius had opened his mouth to make a pun about his name. He paled and shut it immediately.

“What do you need, Lily?” Remus asked kindly.

“I…well…you clearly know what happened this morning with James…” Lily looked down, embarrassed. The boys nodded. “I messed up. Royally. I need your help to make it right.”

“Our help?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you need our help?”

The three boys leaned forward, curious to hear what she had to say.

Lily grinned cunningly. “Well, I had this idea…”

---

Lily and the boys scrambled around for the next hour, making sure every little detail of their plan was set. Finally, the Gryffindor Common Room was ready for James’s arrival. Lily felt a little guilty abusing her Head Girl authority to throw the rest of the students out, but this was for the greater good.

“Hush, and get into positions!” Lily hissed impatiently at her three companions. They quickly scrambled away, ducking behind the chairs and suits of armor in the Common Room, out of sight.

“Wands at the ready!” She ordered, checking her watch for the thousandth time. James would be arriving soon. He must be close. Her heart began to pound anxiously.

A moment later, Lily heard the Fat Lady’s muffled voice as she conversed with someone else outside the door. It had to be James. But, what if it wasn’t? Lily stupidly hadn’t planned on encountering any of his other Quidditch mates. What if one of them had arrived before James did?

Luckily for Lily, the top of a messy head of hair emerged from the portrait entryway. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was James. This was it.

“Lily?” James asked, raising an eyebrow. She stood alone in the middle of the atrium. Her legs felt like jelly. Perhaps she should have dressed up more. “What are you—”

“James Fleamont Potter,” Lily proclaimed, raising her wand above her head. The signal.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the infinitesimal movements of Remus, Sirius, and Peter, as they began casting their spells. The light in the Common Room turned pale pink. Fireworks began erupting over her head, spreading out around the room as they danced in the air. A flock of songbirds burst from the tip of Remus’s hidden wand flew promptly into a heart formation, chirping merrily. Two cherubs holding harps fluttered near them. Heart shaped bubbled filled the air. The scene was, in Lily’s opinion, utterly sickening with cliché. She hoped James would love it.

“I love you, too.” Lily said, just as the fireworks regrouped in above head, spelling out the same message in flashing lights. Gooey harp sounds echoed through the air. The birds clumped together in a tight formation and flew to James, turning into a bouquet of roses before his eyes.

Lily held her breathe as she watched her boyfriend take in the scene before him. James looked up from the bouquet, grinning madly.

“Well?” Lily asked. “Say something?”

“WOOHOO!” James shouted, rushing to Lily and taking her in his arms. He lifted her off of the ground as he spun her around. Lily laughed as he set her back down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier,” she apologized.

“Lily,” said James seriously, “Don’t ever apologize. This way was much better. I feel like the belle of the ball.” He winked.

“Only the best for you, your majesty,” Lily teased back. She was staring into James’s eyes as he held her hands when a chorus of cheers erupted from behind them.

“What the hell?” James jumped back, startled to find his three best friends who had materialized beside them.

“Nice one, Evans,” Sirius clapped her on the back. “I knew Prongs’d fall for this sappy romantic crap, the big softie.”

“Who’re you calling a softie?” James pouted.

“You, idiot. Look, you haven’t even snogged your girlfriend yet. You’ve just gazed lovingly into her eyes. It’s gross!”

Remus and Lily shared a look. “Come on, Sirius, Peter, let’s give these two some privacy.”

As the three boys walked off towards their dormitories, James grabbed Lily by the waist and pulled her close. “Just for that, I’m gonna snog her extra hard now!” He shouted into the distance. Sirius’s laughing reply echoed down the stairs.

Lily shook her head affectionately. “You’re an idiot.”

James smiled back, running a hand through her hair. “But you love me.”

[marveloussupernerd]

Hey! I was wondering if you would match me with a character from Mystic Messenger and Marvel? I have no gender preference so go hog wild. My form is pinned to my blog so I hope it wont be too inconvenient for you. I just find that humans have a tendency to be more complicated than 500 characters so it is difficult to accurately represent myself within those limitations. Thank you in advance, dear!

No problem!! Sorry this took a while but I hope you like it!!!!

Mysme

I ship you with 707!

I just finally reached the clarity that his real name is a spoiler for ppl that like they get upset if they find out so uh, I’m correcting that now lmaoo

Well you’re about as tall as him

Until you wear your boots

Then you’re taller

I know sometimes that bruises men’s egos but it literally does not affect him at all

Except when you’re walking too fast he whines that you need to slow down because your legs are longer than his

The first time he saw your resting face it kinda freaked him out

What did he do wrong? The two of you were just watching tv. Did you not like the way he had his arm around you?

Now that he knows that’s just how you look he doesn’t worry about it

He teases Yoosung by using it to his advantage

“Yoosung I think you pissed her off. Oh my goodness! Didn’t you know!? She can’t stand the color purple. Gives her bad memories. You’ve probably scarred her for life”

And then Yoosung is apologizing to you and you have no idea why

It’s Seven’s way of messing with both of you

The first time he tried to make his move by putting his arm around you and you flinched, he almost cried

No literally

He just... he hadn’t realized it was a thing to dislike it like that

Respects it so much

But he wants hugs so bad :( someone needs to hug this poor boy

So when you eventually invite him over and cuddle up to him during a very late movie night?

His heart jumps in his chest

He tries to tell you that you don’t have to!! He understands how it makes you feel weird and it’s okay; he likes you so so much and respects you a lot

But secretly he looks forward to whenever you want to cuddle with him; the rarity of it makes it even more special

707 is the king of witty comebacks

The first time the RFA sees the two of you bantering with each other they think you’re fighting? Because you’re both so passionate about being better and wittier than the other

You laugh about their confused faces later that night

He’s an over the top flirt too

Tries to woo you with ridiculous romantic gestures

He’s literally a theater kid too you cannot convince me otherwise I was a theater kid as well so I know

Literally every romantic gesture in a romcom? He does it

Of course he expects a reaction out of you but. You. Never. Budge.

Not even after he stole the microphone during the latest RFA party to confess to you that he was carrying your child

Which made NO SENSE

He’s not allowed microphones anymore. Or stages.

When you tell him you’re asexual he’s so respectful (as always)

You literally don’t have to do anything like that if you don’t want to

He’s more than happy with your cute lil domesticated life together

Okay this is off topic but I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO TRY AERIAL SILKS

When he first sees your bruises he FLIPS

did someone hurt you? Who? He’ll hack into their computer, give them hell

The first time he sees you perform... wow

YOU’RE SO COOL AND GRACEFUL AND ELEGANT

he wants to try it and literally begs on hands and knees for you to teach him

He’s bad at it. Learns he’s afraid of heights too

But he tries to watch you perform as often as possible

Noticed you don’t give out compliments often

So it’s his job to come up with a creative new compliment to give you every single day

It ranges anywhere from “I like your shirt” to “you’re so beautiful” to “I admire that you’re able to parallel park my babies.”

Please help him with procrastination

You literally will not hang out with him if he has work to do

He pouts and whines, but ultimately gets his work done

You’ve really helped out his work and his work schedule

He literally hates parties and clubs and bars

Much prefers taking you out at night to look at the stars

If you’ll let him, he’ll drive you to a secluded place in the mountains so that you can see them better

After reassuring you 800 times that he isn’t gonna murder you (you weren’t worried, but he was afraid you thought he would)

He likes to watch murder mystery movies with you

It’s really just a contest to find out who guesses it right first

But after he kept losing he changed it to how ridiculous of a motive he could describe and how close to correct it may be

“She said she has a twin right? Well her eye color is different from her photos. How do we know they didn’t grab the twin on accident? Or the twin isn’t pretending to be her or something”

HOW could he have guessed that

Sigh this is rlly inspired by me bc I did this exact thing and guessed the plot twist

Overall, he’s just really respectful of you. Drinks respect women juice 24/7. Loves complimenting you and spending time with you and never letting you forget how amazing you are.

Marvel

I ship you with Loki!

The Seven one was kinda easy

Prob because there aren’t that many mystic messenger characters

But BOY I struggled here

Until I thought of Loki, I hadn’t even considered him at first (my sister brought him up, as she helps me come up with who to match ppl with)

And YES

He was first drawn to you by how elegantly you carried yourself

Most Midgardians just kind of, slouched through the day

But you stood with impeccable posture, resting most of the weight on your toes. He thought you were some form of royalty at first

And then he saw you perform hoo boy

Okay first of all he definitely had no idea what was happening for a majority of the show

But he kinda liked you and so when you invited him to go he was THERE

Couldn’t stop complimenting you. He thought you were elegant before oh wow

He’s literally not intimidated by you at all, think of all the people he’s had to meet and BS he’s had to deal with

You’re touch-adverse? That’s fine by him

Honestly he doesn’t like cuddling or anything like that himself. Blame it on his childhood or something idc

He will throw insults right back at you. In fact, he usually doesn’t hold back

Okay they’re never inherently mean but I don’t know they may be kinda questionable

He wouldn’t insult you if he knew you couldn’t handle it

He is NOT very flirty

And by that I mean he will not flirt. Like he just cannot

He still gets lowkey pouty when you flirt with other people, but he can’t blame you. It’s not like he does a good job showering you with that sort of attention and compliments himself

But he does give you attention in other ways

He likes to sit with you, watching as you bake or write or something. He finds it very relaxing

In those moments, that’s when he lets the compliments run wild, talking about how you’re so talented and he likes how you look when you’re concentrated

These moments are the softest he gets. He doesn’t like showing this vulnerable side around anyone else

HAHA can you PLEASE go knife throwing together

You’re both very competitive about it

You know that scene from brave where she shoots her arrow THROUGH another arrow!?

That’s all I can picture but with knives

Homeboy is doing 0 archery with you 0 horseback riding he doesn’t trust those disgusting creatures and archery makes him think of dealing with Clint

He makes fun of you when you see a moth

Like does not let it go

“I thought you weren’t afraid of anything. You’re afraid of this little creature? It doesn’t even know up from down,” he chuckles, pointing at the moth flying around and hitting walls recklessly

Needless to say though he takes care of it for you

He throws an Asgardian party just so he can show you off

Thor’s girlfriend was very unimpressive but you!? You’re so charming to everyone

He really just wants to brag about it to his brother, and you know this full well and let him do so

Y’all like to read together before bed

By reading together I mean sitting on the same couch reading your own books

When you yelp when you’re surprised???

What happened to your poker face?

As much as he wants to find different opportunities to jump out at you and make you squeal, he refrains himself from doing so

It makes the moments when you do freak out much more entertaining

I’d say you’ve very on par with Loki; you have a lot of things in common and a similar approach to life in general