#...and i also took way too many clips of his hands cause...reasons. so uh yeah lmk if i should in fact make that

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando S2E2 - "Welcome Home"

[nojey]

reminiscing (fans 2)

dreamwastaken x streamer!reader

genre: angst pronouns: they / them word count: 2.1k warning(s): failed relationship, cursing

fans (part 1)

synopsis: after taking 6 months off from social media, you finally explain to your fans why you took so long and why you needed it.

go live. *click*

you watched as your chat strolled in and viewer count go up. your computer screen illuminating your face in the dark room as your webcam caught the nervous look. you were shaking your leg up and down, a habit you caught whenever you tried to calm yourself down. 

“hi everyone, it’s been a while since my last stream, huh?” you dryly chuckled. “it’s been about.. 6 months since i last streamed and at this point i think i’ve taken enough time to correctly word how i’m going to tell everyone why i decided to take a break from streaming.” you said looking down at the ground and fiddling with your fingers.

“uh, donation notifications will be off for this stream and chat will be on emotes only because i really just want to focus on getting this out. but if you plan on donating, thank you so much, really, it means the world to me.” you said finally looking at your webcam and smiling a bit. you read a chat and answer, “yes, i’m doing okay. i just have a big announcement i want to say after i tell you guys why i took a break.”

you took a deep breath in and started. “ over a year ago, almost 2, i met this guy through a friend and we started talking. it was very little at the beginning but as little as it was, his texts always made me smile.” you scratched the back of your neck. “and as time went on, we started talking more and more and he just became part of my daily routine. when i woke up i’d see a good morning text from him, we’d spend most of our day being on the phone with each other, i was even on facetime with him most of my streams but i had an airpod under my headset so you couldn’t really see it, i almost always fell asleep on facetime with him. i really fell for this guy.” you fondly smiled, looking at your desk, where your phone used to be propped up and you would see clays face just looking at you.

“then we started streaming together. ‘omg he’s a streamer too’ yeah, and a lot of you probably know who i’m talking about at this point but i still won’t disclose who it is. i uh, got a lot of messages from you guys telling me that i looked super happy that stream and i was. i was always happy when i talked to him. but along with those messages i also got a lot of hate, telling me to stay away from him. it didn’t really bother me because i always get hate when i stream with my guy friends; i was used to it.” you said, taking a sip from your water then wiping the side of your eye as it teared up. 

“and today... i’ll be going on the dream smp! with the man himself, dream. dream, say hi now.” you introduced, you waited a few seconds but was only met with silence. you grabbed your phone and sent him a voice message, “clay! you’re on deafen! introduce yourself!” you screamed into your phone. dream then took himself off deafen and said. “hi (y/s/n)’s chat! i’m dream, i’ll be showing (y/n) around the smp today and we’re gonna get started on their house.” you smiled fondly when you heard him speak. “yeah! what dream said!” 

so you both logged into the dream smp, said hi to sapnap, and dream gave you a tour. you then started building your house in a forest, quite far from everyone else, “i don’t want anyone bothering you or ruining your house when you’re not on.” he explained. you told dream you wanted to build a cottage so if anyone does end up stumbling upon it, it looks welcoming to them. so dream started building your house for you even though you insisted you do it together. “dream! let me help, this is supposed to be my house.” you dragged. “well we can both decorate inside and make it our house.” you started blushing. “i guess..” you mumbled. you then started adventuring out to look for flowers and some things to decorate the house with.

you started placing flowers down into flower pots when you noticed something. “dream there’s only one bedroom.” you mentioned. he slowly turned around to look at you and quickly turned back and placed two beds next to each other. “this is our room, dumbass.”

later that night you checked your twitter dms and saw many people telling you to stop talking to dream and that you weren’t good enough to even know him. you sighed and powered down your phone.

“i think a few weeks after that he asked me if i could fly out to him and we’d meet in person. i was so excited i immediately started packing and i met him. it was amazing! i got to meet the guy i’ve been in love with for the past few months. i think it may have been a year already. but yeah, i finally got to meet him and being in his arms was the best feeling in the world, i felt so safe being with him.”

“it was the day after that, when he asked me on a date and i, of course, said yes. like who would say no to the person they fell in love with... so we went on a date and at the end of it we were just sitting on top of the hood of the car, eating dinner, watching the sunset and talking about a future we wanted together. and it may seem like we were moving fast but i knew 7 months into talking to him that he felt the same way about me. no matter if either of us disclosed it. i could tell and i knew he knew the same about me. then i went home and everything was perfect, i wasn’t his girlfriend yet though because we wanted to wait a bit.”

“that’s when everything went downhill, i think” you looked up to try to stop the tears from going down your face, but they fell anyways so you just let it be.

“we started streaming more and more and i started getting more hate than i usually got, this time getting death threats, people threatening to leak my address if i didn’t stop being friends with him. it was crazy but i was willing to endure it all for him. who cares what people on the internet are going to say to me? i really didn’t because i was happy enough with him that, that happiness overcame whatever type of hate i was getting.” tears kept falling from your eyes but you didn’t bother to wipe it, knowing it would just keep happening.

“dude you’re so annoying! you definitely cheated!” you screamed as you died. through your headset you could hear clay wheezing. “there was no way i was cheating!” he said through his laughs. “ask my chat, they saw the whole thing.” you breathed out, not wanting to believe him till a dono was sent to you, “yeah, (y/n) you just suck at this game,” you gasped, your jaw hanging then you started pouting. it was clipped and one of your viewers sent it to dream. he suddenly started laughing harder and you asked him why he was laughing, with a pout still on your face. “even your chat knows i didn’t cheat!” you started laughing too, till you read a message in the chat saying, “ew, their laugh is ugly. i don’t know why dream likes them.” you stopped laughing but kept a fake smile on your face.

“then he called me and he told me that he didn’t think we should be dating anymore, or even be friends. and i think it was because he saw the hate i was getting and he didn’t like that. he told me a different reason as to why he didn’t think we should date anymore but i didn’t believe it, but i let him go. because i was not going to force him to be with me if he really did mean it. “ you said, sniffling after so you didn’t sound too congested as you spoke.

after you hung up, you curled into a ball and cried. you cried, and cried, and cried. the feeling in your chest hurting more than you could ever imagine. you just lost the guy you wanted to marry, the guy you had spent over a year going to because of your problems, the guys you saw having kids with, the guy that made everything worth it. he was the only person on your mind as the pain in your chest grew. you tweeted and powered your phone off straight after. you didn’t want anyone messaging you asking what was wrong, knowing your friends they would do that. 

“so the reason i took a break from streaming was because of that. because i resented the people that sent me hate so much i couldn’t bring myself to stream. i didn’t resent them because they sent me hate. i resent them because the hate they sent me caused the guy i really wanted to be with to make me believe he didn’t love me like i love him.” now, you were sobbing, letting your cry’s out because you had been holding them in for too long. 

it had been a few months and you were on snapchat, seeing that you had a memory a year ago today, you checked it. “i think i literally met my soulmate.” with a picture of you and clay in a discord call. your breath got caught in your throat and your breathing became labored. your eyes started stinging as the tears started falling. it’s happening again, all the pain from the day you stopped talking to him came back and once again, you were crying into your hands and you couldn’t stop.

“i had always known that becoming a streamer i would get hate, but i never thought that i would get enough hate to prevent a relationship i really wanted to work. now all i do is reminisce of a guy i wish could be mine”

“streaming has brought me so many opportunities and i am so grateful for everything you guys have done for me, and for me to be able to do something i love and make money from it is insane to me. you guys have given me everything i ever wanted in life up until that point and i am so grateful and appreciative of that. you guys gave me friendships that i will never lose and never forget. so many of you have told me that i’ve saved you and changed your lives but trust me when i say you guys have saved me and changed my life too. i hope i repaid you back by making you smile, being your comfort streamer, and being a support system for each of you. but i think this is my end of the road. i fucking love streaming, i love you guys. but every time i click that “go live” button or even try to, all i think about is him and that’s too painful for me right now. maybe in the future i’ll find my way back here but i can’t promise that.”

“thank you guys, so, so, so, so, much for every single opportunity given to me, for everything. i love you all. my dms are still open. and this was (y/s/n), signing off for possibly the last time. goodbye everyone.”

end stream. *click*

a tear rolling down his face and falling onto his keyboard as he watched you finally say goodbye to your stream. it all just felt like you were saying your last goodbye to him again. 

for the last 6 months all clay could do was think about you and how he wished he just messaged you and told you he was sorry and didn’t mean what he said. that he misses you and he would quit streaming if that meant he could be with you. that all he wanted was to feel you in his arms again and just live out the future you two planned together. 

but if you just said goodbye to your chat for your last stream because you couldn’t stand the thought of him whenever you tried to stream. how could you ever forgive him?

the thought of never speaking to you hit him once more and again, he cried, sobbed, screamed, threw things, and even then, he knew.. you would never be coming back to him, with every fiber in his being, wishing you would.

—————

taglist: @loxbbg @bozowrites @noahsfag @sparklykeylime @bi-narystars @axths @cheybaee @letsloveimagines @meatte @julesamen21 @classyunknownlover @bad268 @strawbrinkofdeath

[itsapeterthing]

My Hero || Peter Parker

pairing: civilian!peter x avenger!reader

summary: when your boyfriend, peter, gets invited to the stark gala for his internship, you have to try to make it through the night without him finding out that you’re secretly an avenger

a/n: peter is in college here! finally another oneshot for our boy petey- reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 3.9k

warnings: reader has spidey’s enhanced senses, there’s a gun, fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

Pushing open the door of the building you had just had class in, your eyes immediately met those of your boyfriend sitting on the bench waiting for you outside. As soon as you saw him a smile reached across his face and he pushed himself out of his seat, making his way over to you.

“Hey, Pete-”

“- So I don’t know how I got one of these-” Peter started rambling, walking beside you. “They handed it to me and in my head I was like ‘this has to be a mistake’ you know? ‘Cause there’s no way I would get invited-”

“Woah, Peter, slow down!” You laughed, turning to your boyfriend. “What are you talking about?”

Realizing that he hadn’t even told you what he was going on about, Peter stopped and began shoving his hands through his pockets. When you stopped your pace in front of him, you watched as Peter pulled an envelope out of his pocket.

“What’s that for?” You asked.

A smile spread across his face once again as he pulled the invitation out of the envelope.

You swore you felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Stark Industry’s logo printed on the piece of paper.

“It’s for this party thing-”

“-Gala.” You corrected him.

“Yeah!” He said. “Gala! It’s for this gala that Mr. Stark is hosting and you know- at first I didn’t think I could be invited, but it has my name and everything.”

You began to tap your feet as he explained this all to you, feeling your anxiousness grow.

“So, are you going to go?” You asked, praying that he wouldn’t say the answer that you were sure he was going to give.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked.

You knew it was a rhetorical question. At least in Peter’s mind there wasn’t a logical reason as to why a 19 year-old intern for Stark Industries shouldn’t go to a Gala- it could open so many doors for him and it was a rare honor- but you knew things that Peter didn’t. To be more exact, he didn't know the things you were keeping a secret from him.

You had known about the Gala before Peter had even mentioned it because you had been invited yourself, not as a Stark intern, but as an Avenger. You had only found out you had abilities a few months ago when you had been bitten by a radioactive spider. Later you had been discovered by the group, but managed to have your identity remain a secret. 

It’s not that you didn’t trust Peter enough to tell him- you were going to tell him- just not yet. You needed more time.

This Gala invitation felt like Tony Stark was purposefully trying to ruin your life, despite the fact that you had never informed him- or any of the Avengers for that matter- that you and Peter Parker, his intern, were dating.

“Of course I’m gonna go!” He said. “Mr. Stark invited me. This is big for me, Y/n. And... guess what?”

“What?” You asked, not particularly enjoying where this conversation was headed.

“I have a plus one.” Peter said.

Of course he did.

“Oh that’s awesome, Pete!” You smiled, beginning to walk in the opposite direction once again. “I’m sure May would love to go!”

Jogging to catch up with you, Peter grabbed hold of your arm, pulling you back.

“May?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why would I ask May? I want you to go with me.”

Looking at your boyfriend, you felt so guilty for lying to him. He was the sweetest person you had ever met and as he smiled at you, hopeful to have you on his arm at tonight’s event, you couldn’t find it in you to say no to him.

“I’d love to go, Peter.” You said. “Pick me up at seven?”

“Yeah- wait.” Peter said quirking his eyebrows again. “How did you know it was tonight?”

Shit.

“Oh!” You chuckled. “I... I don’t know why I figured that. So... seven?”

Slowly nodding his head, your boyfriend nervously chuckled. “Yeah, seven.”

“Okay!” You exclaimed, leaning in to peck Peter’s cheek before pulling away. “I have to go meet my professor. See you later!”

And with that you took off in the other direction, your mind filled with worries about tonight’s event, planning ways in your head to keep your double life a secret from your boyfriend. As you did, Peter watched you walk away, still glued to his spot sensing that something just wasn’t right.

-

Clipping on your earrings, you heard the sound of Peter’s knuckles meeting your door, lightly knocking. Pulling the door open, your eyes met Peter’s and you smiled.

“What do you think?” You asked, gesturing at the dress you were wearing.

You watched as Peter’s jaw practically dropped and he reached out his hand for yours.

“W-woah.” He said in awe, a smiling reaching across his face as he pulled your hand, twirling you around. “You- you look so beautiful, Y/n.”

Despite the anxiety that you were feeling about the night ahead of you, you couldn't help but smile at his compliment. No matter how often he called you beautiful, you still became a smiling mess every time.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr. Parker.”

He didn't. Standing in front of you, you couldn’t help but notice how much your boyfriend had gone out for the Gala tonight- adorning a a black tuxedo, his hair slicked in a way that you were sure was his Aunt’s doing.

“Since when do you have a tux lying around?” You asked, tugging on the labels of his jacket.

“I rented it a few hours ago. May picked it out.” He told you, resting his hands on your waist. “D-does it look okay? I thought it might look better than the old suit at-”

Pulling on the lapels once more to bring his lips to yours, you kissed him, quickly shutting him up as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. Smiling and  pulling away you straightened out his jacket.

“You look amazing, baby.” You whispered. “Now let’s get going shall we, Mr. Parker?”

“We shall.”

-

Stepping out of the cab and onto the sidewalk outside of the museum where the Gala was being held, the thoughts that you had been pushing aside for the last nine hours suddenly came to the surface as your heart began to race in your chest.

How were you going to keep everything a secret? You hadn’t even told the other members of your group that you would be attending with your boyfriend... your boyfriend who didn’t know that you had super-human abilities or that you were one of them.

As Peter laced his fingers with yours, squeezing tightly before guiding you towards the building, you gave him a soft smile while all you could do in your head was attempt to haphazardly form a plan.

Stepping inside the foyer of the museum, it was clear that no expense was spared for the night. The room was filled with people you didn’t recognize, waiters with flutes on trays weaving through the crowd. The sound of the orchestra playing mixed with the sounds of the hundreds of conversations around you.

It was times like these that you weren’t so glad to have your abilities, the light of the chandelier glowing brighter in your eyes as your enhanced hearing tuned in on ten conversations around you.

Unlacing your fingers from your boyfriend’s, you pulled him closer.

“I’m going to go find the bathroom, okay?” You told him. “I’ll be back.”

“Already?” He asked. “Do you want me to wait outside or-”

“No!” You exclaimed a bit too excitedly before lowering your voice. “I’ll find you.”

Before he could say anything else, you pushed through the crowd of people, leaving the foyer of the museum to find an empty hallway. When you finally pushed through your last person, reaching an empty exhibit within the museum, you slumped against the all.

Why did you think this was a good idea? Although Peter would have initially been upset with you declining his invitation and Tony Stark would no doubt find it suspicious that you cancelled so last minute on his end, at least you would be spared from the nervousness you were feeling now as your hands became clammy and the air felt as though it grew thicker by the second.

“Y/n?” You heard a familiar voice ask.

Pulling yourself away from the wall and glancing over your shoulder, you looked up to see Natasha Romanoff standing in the doorway of the exhibit.

“Sorry,” You said, playing with one of the bracelets adorning your wrist. “I can leave if I shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay, kid.” She said, smiling. “I didn’t see you come in.”

“Yeah,” You said, chuckling. “That’s because I came with my boyfriend.”

Tilting her head, she smiled.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. So your boyfriend came with you?”

Although you knew what she meant, you shook her head.

“Nope,” You told her, popping the p. “I came with my boyfriend. He... he’s an intern for Stark. He thinks I’m here as his plus one.”

“... But you’re an Avenger?” She said.

“He uh.. he doesn’t know that.”

You felt guilty finally saying it out loud, confessing to your mentor that you had been lying to your boyfriend about not only having super-human abilities, but about being a part of the Avengers, risking your life to save others almost weekly.

Rather than lecturing you, she made her way over to you, leaning against the wall beside you.

“I can understand that.” Natasha said before sighing. “But... I also understand what it’s like to live a double life, Y/n. You can’t keep living like this. It’ll make you sick and at some point you’ll lose yourself in the two.”

“But how can I tell him?” You asked, turning to face her. “I’ve been lying to him for so long and he’s just so sweet, Nat. He’d be so worried about me if he knew.”

“You said he’s nice, right?” She asked, smiling as you nodded. “Then tell him. He’ll understand and if he doesn’t... at least you’ll feel better because right now you look like shit.”

Scoffing at her insult you elbowed her. “Thanks, Nat.”

Patting your back and shoving herself off of the wall, she laughed. “What am I if not honest?”

Before you could throw her another snarky comment, however, you watched as she strolled out of the exhibit, heading back into the Gala.

Letting her advice sit with you, you knew that she was right. You had never been as stressed as you were hiding your identity from your boyfriend. You were actually less anxious fighting bad guys than when he would go to grab a pencil from your drawer where you kept your web shooters when the two of you were studying.

You had to tell him- if not for your sake at least his own.

You were afraid to tell him, but Nat was right.

He deserved to know. He was your boyfriend and one of the most kind, honest and understanding men you had ever met- he deserved to know what his girlfriend was up to every night and even the danger he was putting himself in by choosing to be yours.

You decided then that you were going to tell him... except not tonight. Tonight was his night- the night where he finally felt like an appreciated member of Tony Stark’s staff- and he didn’t deserve your limelight ruining it.

Straightening the dress you were wearing, you made your way out of the exhibit and back into the expansive foyer of the museum. Tuning in your hearing, you looked for your boyfriend, but when you heard his voice muffled with Tony Stark’s... it was too late to turn around.

“Y/n!” You heard Peter call. “I’m over here!”

Taking a deep breath, you waved back to your boyfriend, forcing a wide smile onto your face. Striding over to Peter, your eyes met Tony’s whose quickly went wide as he pieced together the situation in front of him.

Before he could open his mouth, however, you extended your hand to him.

“Mr. Stark!” You exclaimed. “It’s so nice to meet you. Peter’s told me so much about you- I’m a huge fan- really.”

Slowly taking your hand and shaking it tightly, he quirked his eyebrows, staring at you for a moment before turning back to Peter.

“Parker,” Tony said, pulling his hand away. “if I knew you had a girlfriend like her, I would have promoted you sooner.”

You felt Peter’s hand wrap around your back to rest on your waist as he smiled brightly.

“W-well thank you, Mr-”

“You know,” Tony said, cutting him off. “I just can’t get over it. She looks exactly like this girl I know. What did you say your name was again?”

You should have figured that Tony was going to give you a hard time.

“Y/n.” You told him, through gritted teeth.

“Y/n...” He said your name again, before chuckling. “God I almost feel like I’m talking to her-”

Before he even had the chance to finish his sentence, however, you heard the overwhelming sound of the glass window that spanned the length of the room shattering behind Tony. Turning your attention to the area, you watched as a large robot-like creature climbed its way into the foyer, kicking it’s legs through the remaining wall. Behind you the crowd of people began to erupt into screams as they rushed out of the doors of the museum. 

“Holy shit!” You shouted, stunned by the android.

At your side you felt Peter’s hand grip yours and when you turned around to face him, you watched as he attempted to pull you in the other direction towards the door, tugging on your hand.

“Y/n, we have to get out of here!” He exclaimed.

You had hoped you had more time.

You had hoped you would be able to break it to him nicely.

But as you turned back around to see Tony Stark’s Iron Man suit forming around him and the robot stepping inside the building, you knew you were out of time.

Pulling your hand out of Peter’s, you watched as a look of betrayal washed over his face.

“I can’t Peter!” You shouted, reaching your hands behind your dress.

“What? What do you mean you can-”

“Are you in or are you out, Y/n?” You heard Tony ask.

Glancing between him and your boyfriend, the sound of the robot destroying tables echoing throughout the room, you nodded at Tony.

“I’m in.”

“What do you mean you’re in-”

Ignoring Peter, you undid the laces on the back of your dress, the fabric falling to your feet.

You were thanking yourself for choosing to wear your shorts underneath your dress right about now.

“Good.” Tony said. “Your suit’s coming in three.., two...”

Stretching your arms out, you felt as the high tech machinery of Tony Stark’s  “spidey suit” for you met your skin. The material stretched across your body, covering your skin until it finally reached around your face, forming your mask.

Turning to look at your boyfriend, you saw his eyes go wide, his mouth practically dropping to the floor.

“What... Y/n-” He stumbled over his words.

Picking your dress up off the floor, you shoved it into your boyfriend’s arms.

“Peter, you need to get out of here!” You shouted over the sound of destruction in the background.

“I- I-” He continued, still glued to his spot. “You’re Spider-Woman?”

“Hey!” You heard Tony shout. “Save the Soap Opera for after we stop this thing!”

Glancing back at Tony and then to Peter, you gently shoved Peter in the direction towards the door.

“We’ll talk about this later!” You shouted, jogging backwards. “Just get out of here!”

Without turning around again to look at Peter’s face, you shot a web towards the android, flinging yourself towards it. When your web met the android’s chest you landed a swift kick to its head before shooting another web, spinning yourself around the android’s body.

“Shit!” You shouted. “This thing’s strong! Can someone help me out?”

As soon as you asked, you watched as a familiar shield came straight for the android’s head, dodging out of the way at the last second, it collided with its face, stopping the animatronic from moving its arms long enough for you to swing yourself around them, webbing them down at its sides.

“Thank you!”

As Tony continued to blast at its face, trying to get a reading on what this creature was, you shot a web towards its waist, swinging yourself around its body once again.

“Taking out the legs, Y/n?” You heard Cap’s voice ask through the earpiece of your suit.

Huffing and Puffing, you replied. “That’s the plan!”

Pulling the webs that you had spun around the android’s knees tighter, you groaned, feeling the strain on your muscles. Just as you were about to lose your grip, the webs slipping from your fingers, both Steve’s shield and the rays from Tony’s palms hit the back of the android’s knees, knocking it onto the floor. Jumping off of the being at the last second, you landed on your knees.

Pushing yourself onto your feet, you heard the clicking sound of a door within the android’s torso opening. When you looked up, your eyes were met with a man who had a gun raised in his hand... pointed at you.

“Hey!” You called shakily, raising your hands. “We can talk this out.”

“Talk this out?” The man said. “I spent two years working on this-”

Before he could say another word, however, the loud clang of a platter meeting the back of the man's head rang throughout the room. When he fell to the ground, your eye’s met Peter’s who stood behind him, the silver tray in his hand.

“Peter?” You asked, tapping the side of your neck so your mask would retract from your face.

Dropping the tray to the floor, he doubled over, hands on his knees.

“That was...” He said huffing. “... so... cool!”

Rushing over to Peter’s side, stepping over the unconscious man’s body, you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s back, listening as he wheezed. Knowing his aunt well enough to know that she wouldn’t let Peter leave the house without his inhaler, you slipped your hands into his pant pocket, pulling out the device and placing it in his hands.

As he inhaled a quick two puffs, his breathing slowly evening out as his airways opened up, you and him looked up to find the attention of the rest of the team on the both of you.

“Well,” Nat said breaking the silence, staring at the unconscious man on the floor in front of you. “I guess love really does conquer all.”

Hearing a chuckle settle over the group surrounding you, the next person to speak was Steve, stepping in front of Peter and reaching his hand out for him to shake.

Glancing between Cap’s hand and face, Peter straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Oh, wow.” Peter said in awe, shaking his hand dramatically. “M- Mr. Captain America, sir, I’m a huge fan.”

Smiling, Steve laid his hand on his shoulder.

“I can say the same about you, kid.” He said. “You gotta stand up for your girl- no matter how strong and capable she may be... I would know.”

Without saying another word, leaving Peter starstruck in his spot beside you, Steve walked away towards Natasha. Tony was the last to come up to the two of you.

“Well, Parker,” He said, tapping his wrist so that his suit retracted from around his body. “I gotta say- I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“T- thank you, Mr. Stark.” Peter said nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“I guess we can consider making you a paid intern now.” Tony said. “You saved an Avenger and now you get paid minimum wage- sound fair?”

Nodding his head smiling, Peter took Tony’s hand in his, shaking it. “Yes! Thank you, sir. You won’t regret it!”

“I know I won’t.” He said, pulling his hand back and stepping away from him. “And Peter?”

“Yes?”

“Be nice to her.” Tony said finally shooting you a wink before heading towards the rest of the group standing over the unconscious man.

Glancing down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers, you looked up at Peter.

“I’m so sorry for not telling you, Pete.” You said, taking a deep breath. “I was just so scared. At first I didn’t even know what was going on with me and then the Avengers found me and my life just got so crazy, but you always treated me like I was just me... I didn’t want that to change and I.... I didn’t want you to leave me once you found out.”

Taking your fidgeting hands in his, he squeezed tightly.

“You thought I would leave you?” Peter asked.

You nodded.

“Y/n, I- I would never leave you.” Peter said seriously. “Yeah, it’s super cool that my girlfriend’s Sider-Woman and you look... like... really hot... in that suit-”

“Peter.”

“But I love you.” He told you finally. “Not Spider-Woman- you.”

You weren’t able to help the smile that reached across your face as you listened to your boyfriend. You should have known that Peter would never hate you- especially not for something as cool as having super human abilities- and you almost wanted to laugh at yourself for worrying so much over it. In the end all that mattered was that Peter now knew and he chose to be with you anyway.

Taking your hands out of his, you cupped his face in your hands and pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling away.

“Thanks for being my hero tonight, Peter.” You whispered.

Smiling, gazing at his face you couldn’t help but notice the blush that began to rise to his cheeks as he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh that? That was nothing.” He chuckled.

“Hey! Love birds!” Tony shouted from across the room. “The press has gotta be here any minute- better head out unless you want your face on the front page.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Stark!” Peter called back, waving his hand.

Waving goodbye to the members of your group one last time, you laced your fingers with Peter’s guiding him towards the door.

“Got my dress?” You asked.

Pulling your dress out from behind a nearby vase, he continued his pace handing you the bundled up gown.

“Couldn’t forget that!”

Smiling you slipped behind a wall near the entrance, pulling your gown on. Without asking you felt Peter come up behind you, lacing up the back of your dress as you tapped your wrist, your suit retracting with your touch beneath the dress.

“I don’t know about you,” Peter said, tying the laces. “But I’m-”

“Starving?” You asked, laughing.

Stepping back from tying up your gown, he laughed. “Yeah, want to go grab some post battle dinner?”

Taking his hand in yours, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. “How can I say no to that?”

[lustbile-archive]

Just Check It Out

JaehyunxReader

Word Count: 6.7k

Summary/Warnings: Smut. Oral (reader receiving), public-ish sex, flirty but also suspicious stranger!Jaehyun, sharp object and blood play/consumption, and honestly low key shitty friends.

Apart of the Club X series: Masterlist

Can be read on its own or within the series.

Your face is screwed up and your nails dig harshly into the palms of your hands in anxiety as you stare at the hollow looking building in front of you. The only signs of life is the red light that pulses and radiates from underneath the entrance door, and the taunting laughter that rattles from behind you deep from the bellies of your two friends.

“What are you, a scaredy cat?” one of your friends asks as she reaches forward to pinch your arm, “just go in.”

“What are you, a twelve year old?” you rebut, your tone a lot more clipped and harsh than you wanted, but the fear crawling up your spine fogs your judgment.

“What happened to a warehouse?” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but the sounds of confusion from behind you tells you they had heard.

“What are you going on about a warehouse?” your other friend takes her turn questioning you, her tone slightly more concerned than the other.

“What do you mean going on about a warehouse?” your voice is shrill as you turn so quickly it made you slightly dizzy, your jaw dropping and your eyebrows furrowing immediately in shock and confusion, “you two heard what that weirdo taxi driver said. He dropped that person off and picked them up from a warehouse. A warehouse! Not some weird ass club.”

The story that the skeevy old man had told you and your friends ran through your mind still. Something about how he had picked up and dropped off the same person every few weekends during his shift, but one night, when he definitely remembered dropping them off, he never got the call to take them home.

“Oh come on so what,” your first friend speaks again, her voice louder than necessary as you started to pace back and forth in front of them, “like you just said, he was just some weirdo old taxi driver. The story probably isn’t even true and if it was he probably didn’t notice that it was a club cause he was too busy trying to figure out how to kidnap the person.”

“Yeah cause that makes me feel so much better,” your stepping slows slightly as you respond, your eyes rolling so hard they ache, “and why is it me that has to go in in the first place huh?”

“Because you suck at rock, paper, scissors.”

You can’t stop yourself when you petulantly stomp your foot, a wash of shame and nerves washing over you immediately after as you cross your arms over your chest. The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong. Whatever force in the universe that was looking down, or up, at you tonight had it out for you, and it only took about three rounds of the hand game before you lost to both of the girls in front of you.

“Listen,” the a lot more gentle friend of the two started, wrapping her arms gently around your stiff form, “just go in, take a look around, and then come back. We’ll be right here waiting, and if it’s cool we’ll all go in.”

‘Or you could just come with me,’ you think to yourself, but something clogs your throat, forcing the words to remain swirling in your chest.

“Fine,” you let yourself sink into her hold for a few seconds, before you start to wiggle free. She smiles softly at the way you pout, and an evil part of you anticipates guilt tripping both of them when you escape the creepy building, “but if you’re even an inch away from this exact spot when I get back you’re dead.”

Their grumbles of ‘yeahs’ and ‘okay whatever’s’ is lost behind you as you teeter on the edge of the sidewalk. You only allow yourself a moment to wonder how a night out with friends devolved into you entering a strange club, before your looking both ways and crossing the street.

You can only imagine how silly you look as you sprint across the road, a nervous skip in your step from the lack of a crosswalk beneath your feet, and when you land on the sidewalk again you’re slightly winded from the anxiety that pumps in you.

The door and the building is about a thousand times more intimidating now that you stand in front of it, the entrance grinning at you like a hungry monster. You can feel the stares of your friends eating at the skin of your back as you stand there curled into yourself, and a warmth spreads across your skin in embarrassment when you notice two men standing to the side, at a front row seat to you shaking like a leaf.

There’s a moment of relief when you see that they don’t seem to notice you, too busy scrolling through their respective phones while one nurses a cigarette. But this relief does nothing to truly calm you of the fact that you have to enter the building marked as “Club X” or face the taunting of your friends. And while you are an adult and the childishness of the jeers from your peers shouldn’t phase you, them questioning your confidence isn’t something you’d like to deal with.

With a deep breath, you stand straight. ‘It’s one drink and a look around’ you remind yourself, ‘you shouldn’t be nervous it’s just a club and you’re an adult.’

From your own scolding you start to come to your senses that yes, there’s no reason to be scared, and without even thinking about it, you notice that your feet have already started carrying you through the threshold.

The red lighting is bright and darkens the writhing bodies that occupy the huge club. If it wasn’t for the thumping bass of music, you could have easily convinced yourself that you stand in the beginning of a horror house, and amongst all the normal club goers was a masked man holding a knife waiting for you to let your guard down for even a second.

‘A drink,’ the quiet voice in your head reminds you, and with a quick glance around to locate the bar, you're pushing through the masses of flesh and sweat to get just that.

You also remember that you're here to take a look around.

It’s a normal club from the looks of it. Too many bodies pressed too close together, a less than inviting restroom tucked in the back corner, the back of the large room littered with booths full of people drinking and yelling over the music. The music itself pumps from huge speakers that stand in front of a short elevated stage, a man standing behind a dj booth controls exactly what pours from the speakers as a group of rambunctious men drink and roughhouse behind him.

Right before you reach the bar, is when you notice something you didn’t fully expect. Towards the back, and high up on the wall, there was a balcony. There was a singular chair, large enough to hold a person and then some, and a large potted plant that branches out so far that it’s vines wrap and devour the railing beautifully, but other than that, nothing. There’s a heavy looking curtain hiding whatever room the balcony connects to, and directly below it is a hollow looking hallway with a thick rope blocking it from the general club goer.

You’re so distracted by the odd sight, you don’t realize how close to the bar you had gotten before you hip bumps harshly into one of its stools. You can’t stop the quiet yelp that leaves you from the quick shock of pain, but even worse is the hiss that escapes the teeth of the young man that stands behind the worn wood of the bar. Even in your regained embarrassment and warmed cheeks you’re able to form the thought that the guy who glances at you with gentle sympathy looks a little young for a bartender.

“Um, can I,” you stutter slightly as you take a seat in the offending stool, praying you can fake confidence enough to smother your embarrassment, “can I get a drink, please?”

“Oh um,” the boy matches your stuttering as he appears just as flustered as you at what happened, “I’m gonna be honest, um the actual bartender had to step away for a moment to uhhh… attend to something. So the best I can give you is like a beer.”

“That should be fine,” you sink slightly in relief and endearment as his own nervous state works to release you from your own.

He moves to step away from you, before you quickly interrupt, “oh don’t you need my id or something?”

“Oh yeah,” he blanks before you, staring off as if he suddenly remembers the existence of laws, “uh I’m gonna be honest, I don’t care. Just, if you see the real bartender at all tonight just don’t tell him okay?”

“I respect your honesty,” you speak to his retreating form as he grabs your drink, and when he returns with a cold amber bottle, you continue, “just between the two of us.”

“Just between us,” he places the bottle next to your hand before shooting you quick finger guns. A small grin still lives on your lips as you bring the opening up to your mouth as he walks away to try to nudge a passed out man that snoozes with his face pressed against the splintering wood awake.

Drink had, club looked at, and as far as you’re concerned, your mission is done. The club seems harmless enough, so with your bottle still gripped between your fingers, you stand to leave and report to your friends that the club is open for business if they’re interested.

Your sure you take the same path that you did to get to the bar, it would be hard not to after you’ve already established where the dj, bar, and weird balcony was placed. But when you’re standing in the exact place that you're sure was where the entrance stood, you’re faced with nothing but a solid empty wall.

Maybe you got turned around, with the amount of people rushing by and the lighting causing it to be a little difficult to see, it wouldn’t be completely out of the realm of possibility. But for the life of you, you could have sworn you turned around and took the exact same path.

You stand frozen in place for a moment, staring at the wall as people dodge and bump into you. You can't imagine how odd you look just staring at a blank wall, but a small part of you hopes that your vision is just compromised and if you look just a little harder, maybe the entrance is still there.

In a last ditch effort, you reach out. Your fingers gently brush the cold wall, before you huff and press your palm flat against it. No false wall, or optical illusion, so maybe you really did just get turned around.

All hopes of that being the truth is immediately crushed when you finally turn around. The balcony high and taunting exactly in the place you’d dreaded it would be, the corner of the bar peeking out from behind a mass of bodies almost as if it’s inviting you to return for just one more drink.

Your heart leaps to your throat when reality starts to set in, but alongside reality, is a rush of determination. There’s no way you’re just stuck here, you tell yourself. You have to get back to your friends and you’re sure that amongst the dozens of bodies that stand around you, there’s no way that they plan on staying here for good right?

There has to be another exit, at least a side door that leads to one of the alleys that stand around the perimeter of the building.

Your hand returns flat to the wall, and you begin to walk. You assume the fastest way to find an exit is to just walk the entire room, and hopefully with you grounding yourself with the wall, you won’t get sucked into the bodies that seem unaware that they’re being locked in.

You keep your shoulder pressed to the wall as well, staying close in hopes to avoid any bumping shoulders or sharp elbows. There are a few times that you have to dodge the rare groping couple that decides the flat surface of the wall is the best place to press against for a good public make out, but you’re quick to return when they’re behind you.

You trace the entirety of the right wall of the building with no luck, and as you turn the corner and pass the restroom you’ve started to huff in disappointment. Maybe the back wall, or the hollow hallway you saw earlier will bring more luck, and if not it probably won’t kill to return to the guy who’s watching the bar to demand he tells you how to escape.

Even though you’re determined to stay focused on finding a way out, you can’t help but to stare at the balcony as you get closer and closer. You can see now that the railing sparkles in the warm light, and you assume it’s made of a gold metal. The vines are even more beautiful as you get closer, and you now notice they’re accompanied by small dark red flowers that look vaguely familiar. But carnations don’t grow on vines do they?

You lose yourself so much in your thoughts that you don’t notice the body approaching you. It’s until you're about a foot away from the dark hallway that you’re pulled from your own universe by a large hand that lands on the wall directly in front of your face.

You jump about a foot in the air, a quiet yelp leaving your lungs as you follow the line the stranger's arm makes to reach his face. And while you know deep down that attractiveness doesn’t mean someone is automatically good, you can’t deny the man that stands in front of you is beautiful and his soft but mischievous eyes makes you slightly relax.

“Believe it or not, but I didn’t really intend to scare you,” he laughs softly as he leans closer, his hand not moving an inch from its spot next to your head, “but you’re looking very beautiful tonight.”

Your eyebrows furrow at how his tone sounds weirdly familiar, and how his words somewhat suggest he’s seen you before. But you know you’ve never met nor seen this man in your life, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that.

“That’s kind of bold of you,” you say with a soft smile that tells him you don’t really mind, and the task at hand starts to slowly slip from your mind as you lose yourself in his soft eyes.

“Easy to be bold when you’re telling the truth,” he leans closer as he speaks, and as he crowds your personal space, you start to feel a fuzzy static wrap around your body, “you look like you’re headed somewhere sweetheart. Can I ask where exactly that is?”

“Oh,” you pulled slightly back into reality at the question, and you even peer around his shoulder to try to see if the entrance has returned and become visible since your journey to the back of the club, “I’m trying to find the exit.”

“Hmm,” his hand not caging you against the wall lifts to scratch gently at his chin as he lets your words roll around in his mind, “well the back is kind of a weird place to be looking for that isn’t it? Why don’t you just go out the same way you came in?”

It’s impossible to ignore the slight twang of taunting in his tone, like he knows something you don’t, but you quietly choose to brush it off. Maybe it’s just your imagination.

“Oh well,” you start before you realize you may sound a little weird if you try to tell him about the disappearing entrance, “you know just… heading that way now.”

He only smiles at you as you laugh nervously as you start to fiddle with your fingers. He’s nice, his slightly drooping eyes making him seem harmless regardless of the way he presses you into the wall, but nevertheless his charming aura and the way his cologne has started to flood your nose and fog up your brain makes you start to get delirious.

“Do you think you could spare me a few seconds before you head out?” His head tilts slightly to the side as a cute and playful pout lands on his lips, and the way he stares you down tells you he knows you won't tell him no, “if only you want to of course.”

“Yeah sure,” you breathe out as you sink back against the wall, despite the little voice in your head that is desperately trying to remind you of your friends that remain outside.

“Good,” his hand finally moves from the wall, only to move a few inches to rub his thumb softly over your cheekbone, “now what is someone so pretty doing in a place like this.”

You can’t help but grin at how cliche he is, but it weirdly fits him and makes your heart flutter, “a place like this? Seems like just a normal grimy club to me, what do you know that I don’t?”

He huffs out a breath, his head softly shaking at the question, “I couldn’t even begin to tell you.”

“Ooo, well maybe if it’s that bad maybe I should go,” you tease, lifting up from the wall slightly, only for him to move his hand down to your shoulder to push you back.

“Well it’s not that bad,” he backtracks as his hand starts to test the waters and trails down your arm until he’s holding your wrist, “not if you stick with me.”

“You a regular here?”

“Hm, yeah,” he pulls on your wrist until it rests on his shoulder, and a pleased hum fills his chest when you take the liberty to stretch out your fingers to scratch at the base of his skull, “something like that.”

“Then maybe you wanna show me around, since it’s my first time here?” You pull him closer as you talk, until his chest starts to brush against you, “maybe show me to the entrance.”

“No, no. I think I’d like to keep you right here,” you were only teasing with the suggestion, but he seems stern when he speaks. This tone and the way he dips his face into the bend of your neck when he finishes makes your breath rush out of you.

“Are you okay with this?” He asks softly, only loud enough for you to hear over the thumping music, his lips brushing the now burning skin of your neck.

“Very okay,” you reassure, and as you thread your fingers fully into the thick hair at the back of his head, the idea of getting back to your friends completely slips your mind.

He only hums again in response before his mouth opens wide to lick at the skin stretched across your jugular, his lips slowly sucking a chunk of skin into his mouth and pulling blood to the surface to form a bruise.

You flinch and your other hand moves to join the other in tugging at his roots when his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. Your head tilts to the side as he starts to move his lips across your jaw and his hips push between your slowly opening legs. The loud music feels like its wrapping around you and feeding you to the wall behind you as his hands now move to squeeze at the flesh that protects the sides of your ribs.

“Who are you?” your words come out stuttered, breathless, and broken, the question slipping out almost by accident as he continues his work on your neck.

“Who do you think I am?” He returns rhetorically. Having another question thrown back at you makes you flicker off for a moment, and by the time you pull yourself from your own foggy brain, he has his teeth biting into your earlobe.

You can only let out a whimper as he licks at the shell of your ear and you try to collect your suddenly scattered thoughts. It doesn’t get any easier as he starts to knead harshly at the skin and flesh underneath his fingers and your knees start to lose their strength.

“How far will you let me go?” Another question to add to your swirling mind, but he doesn’t seem any form of impatient as you collect your thoughts together to respond.

He pulls away from where he’s tucked into your shoulder, his forehead coming to rest against yours, and with the sudden eye contact, it's like he pulls you back down to earth.

You feel very suddenly awake, and it seems like the club disappears behind him, the only remaining evidence of it being the way the music and voices still thump against your eardrums. The way he looks at you is softer than you imagined, but there’s still the inkling of arousal behind his eyes that you know what he’s asking.

“Don’t stop,” you finally answer with zero hesitation, using the hold you still have on his hair as leverage to pull him to your mouth.

He grins wide against your lips, a deep and pleased chuckle leaving him before his eager tongue is pushing its way into your mouth.

With his strong fingers still pushing bruises into your skin, he presses you against the cold wall, his hips and legs pushing against you until your shaking legs step apart enough for his liking, and his body is flush against yours.

Your lips follow his as much as they can, before you notice that he’s sinking down to your neck, his knees bending slightly as he goes. His hands begin to start to move as well when he’s returned to licking and biting bruises against your throat, and its seconds before his cold fingers are brushing against the skin of your stomach.

His blunt nails scrape at the skin of your sternum and the swell of your chest as his lips slide across your skin until he’s nipping at your collarbones. It’s not until one hand slips under the thin material of your bralette with his fingers gently tugging on your nipple, does he finally land on his knees in front of you.

Having him move out of your immediate field of vision throws you off for a moment. The still breathing bodies that fill the room in front of you dance around you, but no one comes closer than a few feet from where he kneels on the dirty floor.

Being reminded that its not just the two of you makes you freeze, the feeling of the hand that doesn’t grope at your chest moving to lift your skirt goes almost completely unnoticed until you feel his mouth take over the garment's job of covering you.

Your fingers flex and tug at his hair when you feel his lips brush against the band of your underwear, and a quiet gasp escapes you when he teeth tugs on the elastic.

“You said don’t stop,” he reminds, muffled just barely loud enough for you to hear, before he lets go of your skirt and the fabric falls over his head and blocks his next moves from your eyes.

You feel his newly freed hand move steadily up your thigh, his fingers brushing against and tickling the sensitive skin as he goes. Once he brushes the hem of the garment, his index finger pushes under and brushes against your buzzing skin as he loops the digit around the crotch of your under to pull it away from your body.

With a harsh pull, he starts to tug your underwear down your legs, his mouth immediately takes advantage of the exposed surface and latches onto a patch of skin on your hip that’s still slightly dimpled from the biting elastic of your underwear.

Once your underwear is pooled around your ankles, his hand retraces its movements back up your thigh, and this time your body shivers at the now familiar feeling. You still groan when his fingers harshly wrap around your thigh, his palm flexing as well as he tugs your leg up and over his shoulder.

His hand shifts until his grip holds you tightly against his face, and his other hand slips down from your chest to press slightly against your stomach. Even though you’re aware enough to know what’s about to happen between the two of you, that does nothing to stop the quick yelping noise that jumps from your chest when his tongue swipes warm and flat against your skin, the tip of the muscle curling at the last moment to flick against your clit and make your hips jump into his grinning face.

He doesn’t leave you a second to adjust to the feeling of his tongue licking into you before he’s going back in. This time when he returns to your skin, his tongue dips shallowly into you, greedily licking up the arousal that spills from your body as he tries to spread the taste of your over every last one of his taste buds.

Your knees tremble and you slip a few inches lower against the wall as your head tilts back. Your heart thumps harshly at the small amount of panic that fills you at the idea of falling into the floor, but the pleasure he pushes into you and your mind scrambling to remember the hold he has on you relaxes you.

He finally moves his tongue away from where you flutter around nothing, his pace slow and maddening as you let your body go lax in his hands and use the study support of his shoulder.

Your eyes shut tightly and your muscles flex for a moment when his lips take hold of your neglected clit, the quick intake of air you pull into your lungs, immediately escapes again in a soft moan.

He uses the way you rest against his shoulder and the wall as a reassurance as he moves his hand away from your thigh to replace the open space his tongue left with his fingers.

You feel two of his long digits press into you slowly, the sudden intrusion making you dizzy and a happy noise that resembles a purr rolls from your chest.

The man kneeled between your thighs finally responds to the small noises you make for him with his own, a proud and content hum crawls out of his lips and against your skin as his tongue repeatedly laps at your clit.

He’s eager, almost like he’s been waiting to show you what his mouth can do his whole life, and as your leg curls around his back and pulls him closer to your lower half, his fingers begin to steadily pump in and out of you.

He takes the moment that his tongue and lips wrap fully around your clit to suck harshly at the bundle of nerves, to curl the tips of his finger to press into the spot that makes stars burst from under your eyelids.

You scramble to find a way to warn him of the knot that forms directly under the hand that pushes against your lower belly, the lack of knowledge you have of his name almost making you want to huff in frustration. But when he starts to massage quick come hither motions against the spot that has you in spirals, you’re gone before you can conjure any cohesive thought.

Your hips stutter against his relentless mouth as you come with a desperate whine. One of your hands leaves his hair as it flies to push against the wall next to your head, your nails digging harshly into the painted brick as he doesn’t let up on licking your through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You’re once again thankful of the tight hold he has on you as you twitch in his hands, his wandering fingers moving back to gripping your hip so his tongue can replace them to devour you.

He moves so quickly to stand when he’s finished licking you clean that you swear you almost get whiplash, and you only get more flustered by his motions when he uses his grip on your sides to spin you around and push your chest into the wall.

“Do you know how pretty you are,” his soft cooing throws you for a loop, but only helps in the neediness you feel for him regardless of your still retreating orgasm. His lips return to press softly to the bone of your jaw and one of his hands slips back in between your thighs to roll the tip of his middle finger softly against your sensitive clit while the other moves away from your skin. The way the fabric of his pants brush against you when he unbuttons them tells you he uses the missing hand to pull himself from his underwear.

You’re proven right, when you feel the end of him nudge the back of your thigh, the precome that drips from his tip smears against your skin and makes you squirm.

“Do you have any idea,” he starts as he moves himself towards the inside of your thigh, until he pushes himself against your wetness, “how long I’ve waited for you?”

“Hmm?” You hum in confusion at his question, but when he begins to push inside you, you quickly chalk it up to him being in the moment and press your cheek against the wall.

You melt into the hard brick as he sinks into you, every inch of him stretching you and pushing against every nerve that makes hums of contentment warm your chest. He moves slowly and with his fingers still playing with you, you feel yourself get dizzy as your eyes flutter and roll.

Once he’s fully seated inside of you, he leans into you, his heated chest straightening out your spine that was curving in pleasure. His now freed hand reaches around, his fingers spreading far against your burning chest, and you feel yourself start to float away from your body when he rolls his hips at the same moment his hand wraps around your throat.

“So good for me aren’t you?” He asks quietly in your ear as he begins to move, his lips brushing your ear easily from the way you tilt your head back to lay on his shoulder. You can only gasp and whimper in response as his thumb harshly digs into your skin below the curved bone of your jaw, but the way your jaw hangs open lets him hear every noise without problem.

A deep groan rattles his chest against your back as he picks up his pace, how deep he pushes inside you with each thrust and the pressure he puts on the blood flow going to your head makes your vision fuzzy.

You can feel your body twitching, but there’s nothing you can do to relax the tensing of your muscles. Your hands start to flail slightly from the pleasure shooting up your spine, one desperately slipping up and down the wall as you try to keep balance, and the other finally finding comfort in holding onto the wrist of the hand that chokes you. You get just a moment of clarity to notice, and feel bad for the way your nails claw into his skin, but the guilt is quickly washed away by the twisting in your belly.

He shows little interest in easing up on you, even when he notices how you start to crumble against him. Almost no interest at all, when he celebrates hitting the spot inside you that finally pushes a loud moan from your lips by relentlessly quickening the pace of his fingers that moves across your clit.

Jumbled moans and slurred words squeeze through your gritting teeth, not even taking the time to be molded into full thoughts in your brain before they pour out. You say a silent thanks when you feel his hand tracing up your neck towards your mouth, assuming he’s going to cover your mouth, as you can only feel yourself start to truly lose the control you have over your volume.

You’re teetering on an edge, the promise of another orgasm dancing on the back of your tongue, and your hips form a mind of their own as they begin to jump and tilt back towards him in desperation. You can’t imagine anything pushing you any closer than what he’s already doing, until you feel his thumb start to push against your lower lip.

It’s almost as if he has you on puppet string with how quickly you move to bring the digit between your lips, your cheeks pulling in and hollowing as you start to gently suck on the intrusion. The pride you feel when he swears darkly in your ear at your action is indescribable, the idea of you causing this man to lose himself the way he is, even with yourself being in more of a submissive position, makes you grin around his thumb as it digs into the center of your tongue. And the feeling of your drool slowly dripping out of your mouth to slide down his wrist makes you feel like you’ve made some kind of claim on him.

Your arousal, and the beginning sparks of your orgasm, fogs your brain. Enough that it takes a moment for you to notice the small bites of pain that shoots across the skin of your tongue that presses against a thick ring he wears below the bend of his thumb.

You want to whimper out, maybe nip at oddly strong digit to ask him to lighten up, but you shamefully admit that the burn and the coppery taste that begins to flood your tastebuds makes you shiver and flutter around his length as it pushes you both closer and closer.

Once your blood is spilling out enough that it begins to slip down your throat, is when he pulls his thumb from your mouth, his hand moves to grip your jaw tightly. You feel your saliva that’s been tainted with your blood spill quickly down your chin and neck as he turns you to face him, and the delirious and rapid look in his eyes when they meet yours tells you he loves the mess he’s made of you.

“Come for me,” it’s said sternly. Demanding in the way that tells you there’s no room for arguments, or pleas to slow down, but you greet the command with pleasure. You’re also just as glad to accept his open mouth as it presses against yours.

Nothing about him slows down. His hips, fingers and lips devour you like he’s been starved for centuries, and you start to feel that maybe you’ve been waiting just as long.

You squeak and groan when he sucks your wounded tongue into his mouth, and when it hits you that he’s pulling and swallowing the blood that pours out of it, is when you're pushed over the edge.

You’re more than thankful for the way he presses against you, as you’re sure without it you would have crumbled in place. Your knees feel useless and you whine into his open mouth the best you can with your tongue trapped between his lips, and you feel your body curl back against him as he holds you close. The way you tremble only comparable to a body trapped and lost in a blinding cold, and your stomach flexes in pleasure.

You want your body to mesh into his as you come in his hold, his arms strong and pulled tightly against your bones as his hips stutter against you. And it’s only a moment of watching you melt into him before he’s following close behind.

The way the evidence of his orgasm spills into you is what finally pulls him away from your lips as he almost growls with his forehead pressed against your temple. His body taking control of his impulse as his brain is taken over with the way you’re wrapped around him, and almost like a reflex, his hand pulls away from your clit to swat harshly at the inside of your thigh. But the way his teeth bite into his lower lip and he’s eyes scrunch closed, you can only offer a dopey smile in response.

Your smile falls slightly as you cringe at the feeling of him slipping from your body, but his hands moving to rub up and down your sides momentarily makes you relax.

He’s quiet and quick as he bends to drag your underwear up until they’re back to resting on your hips, and you pray they do enough to keep his come from spilling out of you.

“You need to get back to your friends,” he breaks his quiet spell as he turns you to pull you into his chest, and you have a small moment of confusion at his words before it hits you what you were trying to do when you ran into him.

Your hands fly up to clench at his shirt, your curls fingers wrinkling the fabric of his shirt and the sudden puppy like look you give him makes him smile.

“I can't wait to see you again,” the sureness in his voice shakes your core a little, and you can only hope what he says is true, “I promise I won't be hard to find.”

“Can you at least tell me your name,” you say more petulantly than you intended, but you're greeted with his grinning sharp teeth as he starts to pull you away from his chest regardless.

“I’m Jaehyun,” he speaks slowly as he makes sure you’re completely steady on your feet before he starts to step away, “I promise you won’t forget. Now go, the entrance should be there just like normal.”

He nods as he finally disappears into the crowd, but you can’t help the biting voice at the back of your mind that, even though he only gave you a few short sentences, he always spoke like he knew something you didn’t.

But he was right. You took your chance with the entrance again after his confident tone, pushing through the crowd of pushy shoulders to get back to the front. The only disappointment that rests in your chest when you reach the now visible door, is you didn’t get a glance of the man amongst the crowd.

It’s almost like culture shock when you step outside. The men that lean against the wall by the door remain rooted in place, their thumbs still swiping aimlessly at their phone screens, and the shadowy outlines of your friends still stand on the other side of the street.

Even with a looseness to your muscles from what happened in the club, you still feel foolish as you sprint to where they stand, and the looks of surprise they wear makes an apologetic smile stitch onto your face.

“So how was it?” The more gentle of the two asks, a concerned glint in her eyes making you feel even more guilt on what you let distract you.

“It was pretty cool,” you hesitate telling them what had happened, you’re not sure why as you knew they would never judge you for the hookup but you can't conjure the words, “I’m sorry I was in there for so long though.”

“So long?” Your more fiery friend takes her turn to speak now, but your face only screws up in confusion at her questioning words, “dude you were only in there for like five minutes top. Were you even able to get to the bar to get a drink in that time?”

You can't collect your thoughts enough to force words, instead you fumble over syllables and rumbling noises of misunderstanding what she’s saying. You’re almost ready to ask her how something that felt like years to you only felt like five minutes to her when she interrupts again.

“Whatever. It could have been five seconds and I still would be bored so lets fucking go,” she turns to walk away, her hand reaching back and lacing her fingers through your own being the only thing that pulls you along behind them as the feeling of Jaehyun’s finger prints weighs you down, and tugs at the cord that connects you to the club behind you.

[watermelonlipstick]

Nerves (Request)

This was my first request, and it was fun to write! Anon wanted a reader around Sam’s age whose nerves Dean mistakes for fear until he confronts her about them. Thanks for reading, and of course I would love any advice or critiques!! If you have a request, drop it in my inbox and I’ll definitely write it if I feel like I can do it justice. Just a little bit of weekend fluff. 

Title: Nerves

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2715

Summary: When helping Sam’s college friend, the reader, Dean can’t figure out why she’s so scared of him. 

gif from forgetthisbull

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious. Don’t be a fucking creep to her,” Sam said, shutting the door to the Impala and following his brother into a greasy spoon called Little Bavaria with white scalloped curtains.  

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious,” Dean mimicked in a nasal sing-song. “And when am I ever a creep?”

Sam glared at Dean in exasperation. “Please? Just please? Can I have one friend you don’t hit on?”

“Fine! Drop it!” Dean snapped, yanking open the door and pulling his face immediately into a saccharine smile for the rosy-cheeked grandma-type standing behind a cash register that could not have been made after 1983.

“Thank you,” Sam said, obviously relieved. He scanned the room before seeing her sitting in a back booth.

You waved excitedly to Sam as he walked toward you, looking like a sun-kissed and confident man rather than the floppy haired boy you remembered.

As the brothers made their way over to you, a waitress dropped off plasticized menus and glasses of water. Sam waited for you to stand up before wrapping you in a bear hug. He smelled clean and familiar in a way that made you feel slightly lighter immediately.

“I like the new hair, it looks good on you,” he said, charming as ever.

You reflexively touched your head. “Oh! Right, I forgot that was after college. You look great!”

Sam’s smile was easy and wide as he turned to Dean. “This is my brother Dean.”

Dean raised a few fingers in a weak wave, decidedly not giving you anything Sam could construe as bedroom eyes or a flirtatious smirk. “Nice to meet you. Sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”

“Yeah, well,” you trailed off.

“Should we sit?” Sam asked, graciously offering you an out.

After the requisite coffees and Dutch babies were ordered, Sam looked across the table angelically. “I’m really sorry this is happening,” he said, his voice smooth and soothing.  It was all Dean could do not to roll his eyes, one arm slung across the booth behind Sam as he slouched back. He tried for the appearance of nonplussed neutrality. “If it’s okay with you, I think you should stick around us until we figure this out. I don’t want to leave you alone in that house,” Sam urged.

You kept the relief off your face better than you’d expected you would. You were trying to play it cool in front of Sam and his hopelessly cute older brother, but you were scared enough of going back your new house that you just repeated what they ordered, unable to focus even on the menu. As you had been doing for the last day and a half since you called, you thanked God for the small instinct to call Sam. Sam, who you hadn’t seen in a few years but was the least judgmental person you’d known in school. Somehow you knew even if he thought you were crazy he would come anyway. Now he was here, bigger and looser than you’d remembered, not making fun of or pitying the girl who thought her house was haunted, and you felt like you could take a deep breath for the first time in weeks. In a weaker moment you might’ve cried, and for that reason it was better that Sam had brought his brother. It might not have been so embarrassing to break down with an old friend, but you couldn’t ugly-cry in front of the Rebel Without A Cause at the table, all pillowy lips and long eyelashes. Distractedly you tried to remember if Dean looked this good in the two or three pictures Sam had scotch-taped to his dorm wall but couldn’t call them up. You channeled all the chill-girl energy you could muster and shrugged. “If you think that’s better, I can.”

“I do, yeah. It’s just that we don’t know what’s going on yet,” Sam offered. “If you need to get some stuff from your place, we can come with you. Right, Dean?”

“Sure,” Dean said, his tone clipped and his lips pressed tight. “Whatever Sammy wants.”

You heard a thump under the table and Dean smiled slightly more reassuringly.

Over breakfast Sam had about a hundred questions about everything you’d been up to lately. He seemed genuinely interested as you told him about the new job you’d moved here for, wanting to know more about the goofy drama between your coworkers and odd clients as though it was fascinating. You’d forgotten how much you desperately missed him until you saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and heard his laugh twinkle out over the coffee steam and powdered sugar. All the while, Dean seemed to be boring into you with those green eyes, sometimes adding a meaningless trite comment or chuckle but not genuinely engaging. You tried only partly successfully to ignore him, focusing on Sam and your food and how nice it was to feel safe.

3 cups of weak coffee after you’d finished eating, knowing you’d be jittery but not caring from the giddiness of the reunion, Dean took out his wallet and threw about double what you’d guessed the tab might be down in cash. “Should we go get your stuff?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you answered, taking one last sip before getting up from the table. A look you couldn’t decipher passed between Sam and Dean so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been staring right at them. You followed the boys out of the restaurant, feeling a very odd and fleeting moment of jealousy when Dean thanked and winked at the older woman behind the cash register, giving her a slow languid smile like warm honey. He was so pretty. As quickly as the thought had come over you, it was replaced with disgust at yourself. At a time like this, when your whole world was in chaos, you were worried about some hot guy—who clearly wasn’t into you from the way he was acting—instead of your own safety. You were still cursing yourself mentally when you slid into the back of the gigantic black car they’d arrived in.

Sam’s friend was cute. Like, really cute. Beautiful, even, and Dean was beyond annoyed that this was the one time he promised Sam he wouldn’t hit on one of his friends. Not that it seemed to matter, because she only had eyes for Sam. It was like she melted when she saw him, staring only straight at his kid brother all through the time they stayed at the breakfast spot. If Dean was being honest with himself, he was more than a little hurt, not used to being looked at with anything less than adoration by the women he wanted. What added even more salt to the wound than the way she seemed so infatuated with Sam was the way that she looked when she saw Dean. Dean peddled in monsters and the looks of attractive women, and he knew fear when he saw it. He’d spent the rest of breakfast with Sam’s comment about him being a creep running through his mind on a loop, careful not to lean too close into her or say anything less than strictly G-rated. Unfortunately, that limited him more severely than he realized it would.

When she got into the back of the Impala, she sat straight up like she was in a cotillion class, not comfortable enough even to sit normally in his car. Was Sam right? Was he a creep? Dean suddenly felt weird and predatory, like maybe the blood and guts of hunting was changing him in some irreparable way that people could sense. He tried to smile agreeably the way Sam did up at her in the rearview mirror and saw a shark reflected back at him. Looking quickly away, Dean put both hands on the wheel the way he thought someone non-threatening would.

It didn’t help that Sam thought something was off, which meant Dean wasn’t pulling off his act and maybe couldn’t even pretend like he wasn’t the kind of person who makes a beautiful girl’s eyes go wide in fear. Each time Sam had side-eyed or kicked him under the table, the point was re-emphasized. Dean was desperate to relax but worried he’d freak this poor girl out somehow, so he kept himself tightly wound as he took directions to her house.

By the time they’d finally figured out the problem—not, as you thought, that your house was haunted but that a coworker was in fact a witch trying to torment you—the three of you had gotten into a semi-comfortable rhythm. You were crashing on the couch in their motel room, carrying your toiletries into and out of the bathroom every morning like you were at sleepaway camp and trying to keep your clothes as wrinkle-free as possible while living out of a suitcase. Some parts of it were so nice; you were still just as grateful for the protection you felt as you had been in that café, and you had forgotten how comforting it was just to know there was someone else around. Other parts, however, were not. You hadn’t slept on a couch, let alone a scratchy-creaky motel one, for so many days since college, and you were remembering why. On top of that, Dean was so compelling that it felt like you expended half of your energy each day just trying to keep yourself from staring at him.

And naturally, the more you got to know him the harder it got. He was not only the pretty boy that was obvious from the first time you met, but also so kind and respectful, seeming to be very aware of the potential discomfort of immediately sleeping in the same room as a strange man and giving you a wide berth for as much privacy as possible. He even picked up coffee in the mornings before you and Sam got up, that first day getting a black coffee, a nonfat latte, and ‘whatever the coffee guy said was most popular’ because he didn’t know what you’d like. If anything, it felt almost as though he was being a bit too gentle, and you wondered if Sam had told Dean you were some kind of fragile and delicate bird that startled easily. When you’d asked Sam about it after a couple days, he just shrugged and said he hadn’t really told Dean much other than some stories from college. You decided to drop it. Maybe Dean was just like this, which made it all the harder not to develop the kind of crippling, blushing, oh-my-god-is-he-going-to-sit-next-to-me crush you hadn’t felt since middle school.

When the coworker had been ‘taken care of’—a careful answer from Dean that you chose not to pursue—you were left feeling unmoored. It wasn’t like you could go back to the now-destroyed house, or even imagine how you’d explain away the chaos of the last couple weeks to the few people you knew here. Sam seemed to pick up on it intuitively, and offered for you to come along with him and his brother until you figured out what you were going to do next. Like it had when he had driven across the country and tossed you the last life raft over the formica table at Little Bavaria, it felt like Sam was saving you. He seemed excited when you said you would, and was out grabbing sandwiches for the road while you and Dean packed up the motel room when Dean asked if he could borrow you for a minute.

You were so embarrassed at the small, cartoonish voice that agreed, sitting on the side of the bed while Dean draped himself effortlessly—God, how could he look so cool even just sitting down—over the arm of the sofa.

“I, uh, if you’re going to come on the road with us I think we should talk,” he started. Your pulse started thumping in your chest and you hoped you weren’t blushing as you raised your eyebrows, signaling for him to continue. Dean cleared his throat and fiddled with his ring before continuing. “Listen, I don’t know how much Sam told you before we met, or whatever, but I swear I’m really not that bad.”

You’d been focusing so hard on not looking desperately infatuated that you weren’t able to keep the surprise off your face. “Bad? Of course not, you’ve been amazing. You and Sam saved my life. I’m so grateful,” you sputtered.

“Right,” Dean said, looking slightly confused. “Then I’m sorry if I did something maybe, because I don’t want you to think I’m some, like, animal—”

You cut him off. “Dean, you’ve been unbelievably sweet, way above and beyond what you needed to do. I’ve felt so safe the entire time I’ve been with you guys, and now you’re letting me stay with you for even longer; I don’t know how I can repay you, seriously.”

Dean looked up at you, his confusion tinged around the edges of his eyes with something wounded. “Then why are you so scared of me? You jump whenever I come in the room, you only look at Sam, you don’t even slouch when I’m around. I know I can’t do Sam’s puppy dog eyes act, but come on, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You act like you’re waiting for me to sock you.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, realizing you didn’t know what to say. It was hard enough to think with Dean’s eyelashes sweeping over his cheekbones like the most delicious metronome you’d ever seen, let alone process what he was saying. “I—Dean, I’m not scared of you,” you finally squeaked. His face didn’t change with the spark of recognition that would’ve allowed you to stop there with a soggy handful of dignity left, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself to continue. “God, this is so embarrassing,” you murmured under your breath. “Okay,” you started, hoping your voice sounded resolute and firm. “I mean, it’s just that you’re so cute, and cool, and self-assured, and I was worried I was going to do something weird or whatever, and now I guess I have anyway. I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable, or especially feel like I wasn’t anything other than thankful for you and everything you’ve done. I’ll try to act like less of a total freak, I promise.” 

You winced, waiting for the inevitable pity from this gorgeous man who must hear these proclamations from every woman he meets. Instead, Dean chuckled, which was maybe even worse. Pity you were ready for, could swallow and heal your ego from in private, but open ridicule was too much.

“Okay, well, that was fun. Sorry,” you said, smacking the tops of your legs and getting up from the bed. Dean grabbed one of your wrists as he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes.

“No, wait, sit down,” he said, smiling.

You obeyed, feeling a little lump of embarrassed tears forming in your throat but not seeing a way to extricate yourself from the room gracefully. Dean’s callused thumb swiped affectionately across the back of your hand.

“That is way better than what I thought,” he insisted.  “Sam made a big deal about how I shouldn’t act like a creep to you, and it got in my head. I thought I was coming off as a total perv or something.”

His eyes locked you in like quicksand before you could answer, not pitying or withering at all as you’d thought, just soft and tender and the impossible green of a perfect matcha. “No, I’m the perv here,” you offered, attempting to make light of your shyness.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart,” Dean purred. Heat swelled up into your cheeks, and Dean brought your hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the back of your hand as he gazed up at you.

As you were desperately scrolling through the Rolodex in your mind for something witty to say, Sam opened the door to the motel room. You were equally and fiercely relieved and stymied as his hulking frame filled the doorway, grabbing the duffel he’d left on the tile. “You guys ready?” he asked, his smile bright and carefree.

Dean dropped your wrist and winked at you as he got up from the couch unhurriedly. “More than ready, Sammy. Let’s hit the road.”

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass, @akshi8278​, @dream-believe-and-love​

[justalittlebluetiefling]

i CANNOT believe we haven’t talked about the moment yet what is happening please tell me the things you need to get off your chest like how ‘i’ll see you in the morning’ haunts you

HOW have we not talked about this yet?!?! Oh my gosh there’s so much. I have so many feelings about this conversation.

Uh oh, this needs a cut. Didn’t mean to turn this into an entire analysis of that conversation, but apparently I had a lot I needed to get off my chest.

How are YOU holding up with all this?!?!

I was really worried about you... when you fell. ... This suddenly feels far more serious than I thought it might be.

UMMMMM. His voice?! This whole time. His voice is like... unsteady and rough and he’s quiet the entire time. Fjord tends to be pretty subtle anyway, so quiet isn’t exactly rare for him, but this actually shook him to his core AND YOU COULD HEAR IT. It messed him up so bad that he threw all of his plans to wait out of the window?!

It felt like hell. It felt like torment.

And we have to stop it, right?

I’m emotional about THIS because JESTER?! She lost FIVE YEARS. Not only did she have to see this again, feel it, but she lost five years. And it’s clearly hurting her, but she’s not letting herself worry about it, because there are bigger things to worry about. It’s just the way both of them push their own emotions to the side to be dealt with later in favor of the larger problems at hand. It’s so admirable.

AND HE’S NOT EVEN... okay wait.

I... I may have a... a... a problem.

THE WAY HE CAN’T EVEN SAY IT. He’s so NERVOUS. Because he KNOWS why he’s THERE.

And JESTER. What is it? So fast! She’s so worried! She probably thinks it’s Uk’otoa or Kotho contacted Fjord about Sabian again or something.

I saw you standing on that pillar. It was the first time where I kept myself from... trying to... stop something that was happening TO you and... I didn’t do anything and it’s bothered me.

He has a problem. His problem is that he can’t focus past the fact that something might happen to Jester. THE THING HERE. IS THE EMPHASIS ON THE WORD ‘TO’. “Stop something that was happening TO you”. Like, all of the times throughout this campaign that we weren’t overanalyzing. We’ve made the list a thousand times and I don’t need to repeat them. here

ALSO. Think about how many things in Fjord’s life have happened TO him. He doesn’t WANT that to happen to anyone else. Especially not Jester.

But wait. Like. He didn’t say it, but he really CAN’T focus past the idea that Jester specifically might not make it out of this. The guilt he’s been carrying after the Iron Shepherds. He took all the responsibility of that onto his shoulders and I don’t think anyone realizes that he’s still hanging onto that.

It seems to have exacted a pretty serious toll.

It’s just... his voice! And the way Jester’s face falls!! I’ve been pretty worried about how Jester still seems to be putting up the ‘happy’ facade for everyone and you can truly see in this moment how much it bothers her that she’s lost time.

I want to come out of this and be able to go back to the sea and go back to Nicodranas and go back to where it’s warm and not fucking freezing and...

Me too.

They miss HOME. The poor Coast Kids miss their home. They’re both so sad. But okay. The hilarious thing here? Is that Fjord? Is talking about how he wants to go back. To THEIR home. With HER. And it hasn’t HIT HER yet, because she’s distracted! She has no idea what’s about to happen.

I just don’t know if that’s... I don’t feel as optimistic now.

Me neither. But... I’ll try to be safe. And you should, too. But if it comes down to it, if it means stopping that thing? I want to stop that thing.

AND HERE. What was it he said to her at Travelercon? And you care about people you know, about people you don't know. You cause chaos, but in the end, you don't want to hurt people. You care. This is something that he LOVES about her, but right now, it’s just... okay I’m trying to put this into the right words.

*sharp inhale* I told your mother I would look after you.

Yeah. I’ll be fine, Fjord. We always are.

Continued from the previous thought. HERE’S THE DEAL. Fjord knows he can’t protect Jester from this, no matter how much he wants to. His voice is breaking over that. And Jester’s is, too. They’re saying all these words here, but they’re also NOT. I don’t know. I’m watching the video again while I’m typing this, so this moment is breaking my heart in slow motion.

It’s not even just on Fjord’s side. Jester’s doing that thing right now where she deflects, because that’s what she does and trying to reassure Fjord because he’s never been so worried about her and she doesn’t know what else do to while Fjord is sitting here like we’re running out of time we’re running out of time we’re running out of time. Like, that’s the whole thing. He can see that they’re running out of time on Jester’s face. Literally. It was one thing for him to wait to tell her until after he sorted out his life when they felt invincible. But... out of all the danger they’ve been in before, he’s always been able to follow her. She’s never had to be alone in it, because he was one step behind her. And this time? There was literally nothing to do. He was powerless. He is powerless.

This part of the exchange is so loaded. You can FEEL Fjord about to break. It is tangible on the screen because his voice keeps shaking and he takes that huge breath.

IT’S JUST. He’s trying SO HARD. I always talk about this, but this one specific  time Travis was on Talks lives in my head rent free. The time when he talks about how much Jester’s unconditional and unrelenting support has meant to Fjord and how much Fjord wants to be able to return that. ALL he wants to do is be there for her and she’s still not opening up to him and he has NO IDEA if what he’s about to do is going to work. He has no idea if she’s going to be okay with what he’s about to tell her.

I care very much for you.

Really?

JESTER’S VOICE IS SO SOFT. SO SOFT. AND HE’S LOOKING AT HER. AND SHE’S LOOKING AT HIM.

I’m melting over this moment.

*huge sigh*

Is it because I have chiseled cheekbones now?

It’s the longer horns.

Yeah, it really does it, doesn’t it?

Yeah. It gives you an intimidating look.

YOU KNOW WHAT I LOVE ABOUT THIS?! Jester saw that Fjord was nervous and she immediately tries to defuse the tension with a joke. And he jokes back. Because that’s what they do together. They’re goofy and silly and they comfort each other and Fjord LIKES that she’s strong.

Listen I’ve got clips saved up from my last rewatch because I want to make a gifset of the times Fjord has been openly appreciative of strong Jester and one day I’m gonna do it.

I mean they’re joking around, but Fjord is like, super attracted to Jester and I really love that for her. But it’s MORE than that, because he’s attracted to her, but the thing that won him over was who she is so every time he talks about how attractive he finds her, it’s just icing on the cake. He doesn’t just want to see her, he wants to know her and I don’t know how I got to this point from this section but here I am, I’m not going back.

C A N I K I S S Y O U

OKAY.

I’m gonna hyperventilate again for a sec.

It caught Jester SO OFF GUARD. AND THEN SHE’S NODDING AND THEY’RE SMILING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THEY’RE SO IN LOVE AND IT’S JUST BEAUTIFUL HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LIVE LIKE THIS

HOW.

Kissing is a lot more fun when you’re not dying.

Jester!!! She brought up the kiss! THEY SMILE AT EACH OTHER AFTER THIS. LIKE. They both acknowledge the “kiss that wasn’t a kiss” AS A KISS. I never thought we’d hear about this again! But Jester’s been thinking about it THIS WHOLE TIME!!!

I love this though. The first time, he kisses her to save her life so she can get them out of that temple. This time, he kisses her, because he can’t stand the idea of losing her.

BUT ALSO. KISSING IS FUN. Jester!!! Liked!! Being kissed! By Fjord!!!

I want them to have downtime so bad. I want them to be able to spend time walking around Nicodranas and kissing and going on little dates and eating ice cream at the Lavish Chateau and hanging out at the beach with Luc. I WANT THEM TO HAVE QUIET MOMENTS.

I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

This was so cute! This last part might be my favorite part of the conversation. Because Jester got all flustered and FOR ONCE Fjord didn’t get awkward! He was just so RELIEVED to have told her! And she was so HAPPY?! The CUTEST grin on her face! EVER.

I’VE WANTED TO DO IT FOR A WHILE.

JESTER’S GIGGLE HERE!!!!!!!!!!! I love this for her so much. I just do. She’s been SO into him for SO long and she didn’t think he liked her back and here he is TELLING HER HE’S WANTED TO KISS HER FOR A WHILE. Her giddiness is contagious!

And FJORD! How LONG have you wanted to kiss her?! For some reason, this isn’t something I’ve considered when trying to figure out the timeline of Fjord’s feelings. When is the first time he wanted to kiss her? I think I need to go watch all their big conversations again to see if I think it’s any of them. For some reason, I feel like it’s going to be in one of those silly little moments they have together and I’m going to miss it. Do I rewatch the entire campaign for a third time???? Is that what I have to do?

I’m kind of a big coward.

No, Fjord, you’re very brave.

I am very brave, aren’t I?

You are.

Jester FULLY believes this. She’s just smiling over at him this whole time. But he looks down. Because he still doesn’t think he’s brave. Or he’s brave enough for most things, but there’s ONE THING he knows he can’t do and that’s let her go and I’M. 

Is this all just speculation and guessing and me making stuff up? Yes. Do I care? No. That’s what his face says to me in that moment.

ALL WHILE JESTER IS JUST SO HAPPY. She DOES think he’s brave and she thinks he’s amazing and he just kissed her and it’s not how she thought it would happen, but IT DID and it was so meaningful.

We could get cats and just flee.

I need to get the whole dialogue for this, but I’m tired tbh and I need to sleep, so I’m gonna focus on this last part. How they’re talking over each other to joke around, but it’s really smooth and flows really well between them. But right before this you can still see how heavily the upcoming trials are weighing on them. They feel a little better about EACH OTHER, but there’s a very real possibility that they’re about to lose each other, but they can take this ONE moment of hope?!

And I just love it when they joke around with each other to try to make each other feel better. They’re so good to each other. 

I’ll see you in the morning.

God, the way his voice is just ROUGH and small and quiet and he DOESN’T WANT TO LEAVE and they just SMILE AT EACH OTHER and they’re scared of what’s coming but THEY KNOW THEY LIKE EACH OTHER and they’re SO HAPPY FOR THIS MOMENT. 

And the soft way they say goodnight to each other!!!

THEY!!!!!!!!! make me want to walk into the ocean. In a good way. I SWEAR I CAN’T WITH THIS.

And then the way Jester sighed and giggled after Fjord left! And I can see her leaning back against her door and sighing and looking up at the ceiling and just..... SO. HAPPY.

She doesn’t even ask for a cat cuddle pile!!!! She just stares at her unicorn until she falls asleep. SHE DOESN’T ASK FOR A CAT CUDDLE PILE! 

And then there’s Fjord! Who doesn’t sleep much!

That part makes me a little more angsty. There’s lots of reasons he might be awake most of the night. There are some really cute ones. Like he’s thinking holy shit I just kissed Jester and she kissed me back and she said it was fun that’s good right? And then there are the angsty ones where he could have been laying there thinking about how he doesn’t have any control over the situation and how scared he is. But he did something and he made her smile and that’s all he ever really wants to do. Is make Jester happy. And maybe he made Jester happy in this moment where she was trying to hide that she’s sad. AND THE THING IS THAT HE DID! 

And I’ll leave you with a very short list of random things I expect them to say to one another at one point with no context:

I can’t stand the thought of losing you.

Are you sure you don’t miss the longer horns?

You don’t always have to be fine.

OH. ALSO. 

Get ready for casual intimacy. I’m ready for hand holding. Shoulder touching. brushing someone’s hair out of their face. GET READY BECAUSE IT’S GONNA HAPPEN.

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #22: Fluster

Fluster – make someone agitated or confused.

Aetherytes were constantly busy. You learned pretty quick to move away from one as soon as you manifested next to one, lest someone suddenly appear next to you and knock you both down.

Old Man Franks, tired as he was, almost forgot this, and only barely missed being clipped by an arriving Roegadyn armed with an enormous spear on his back.

He quickly moved out of the plaza and cast a quick glance about, and then raised his hand to his ear, activating his linkpearl

Rheika’s voice answered him. “Heya Franks. You get to the Toll already?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I take it you’re not?”

“Not yet. Fearless isn’t answering her ‘pearl, so Dahk and I went to her place. Ranaa said she and Makoto went to the Sekiseigumi HQ, so we’re headed there. Turns out she left it at home. Again. Anyway, go on in and figure out what’s going on, we’ll be there as soon as we find her. “

“Copy that. Hopefully whatever this is can be resolved fast. I need to catch up on some sleep.”

“Did you stay up all night working on cross-world portals again?”

“I admit nothing, see you soon.” He disconnected the link before she could chastise him further and headed into the Seventh Heaven bar. A few of the regular patrons tossed greetings his way, which he returned as best he could in his sleep-deprived state,

The bouncer who guarded the door to the Rising Stones nodded at him and stepped aside. Franks strode in, turning to shut the door behind him quietly. Darn thing tended to slam, he’d been meaning to install something to slow it down. Maybe after some rest today.

“All right, Tataru, what is this emergency…about…” Midway through his sentence, he’d turned to face the room. Sitting at one of the table were Tataru, Y’shtola, and someone who shouldn’t be there. Someone who couldn’t possibly be there. Because she was dead.

Standing up at the table, hand over her mouth and tears streaming from beautiful sea-green eyes that he hadn’t witnessed in years, was a viera woman that happened to be the spitting living image of the woman he’d married so long ago.

She dropped her hand, looking for all the world as happy as the day they’d wed. “Hello, my love.”

Twelve forfend, it sounded like her too. “What the hells is this? No…you’re dead, this is some kind of trick!” He pointed a shaking finger. “You’re a godsdamned Ascian, you HAVE to be! How the hells did you make someone look like her??”

She ran to him. “Darling, no, it’s me, I swear it!” She moved in close, trying to embrace him, but he backed away, shock and anger on his face.

“Fandaniel, that you? Because you just crossed a fucking line, you piece of filth, and I’m going to make you regret it!”

The woman looks over to Y’shtola, panicking. “He…what’s happening, who does he think I am?”

Y’shtola has already moved next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and holding the other with her hand. “Aleister, I swear to you on my life, this is not a trick. Do you remember how Rheika unmasked Elidibus, by tricking him about the Amaro? It proved that an Ascian can’t access memories of their hosts, do you recall that?”

He had stopped backing away, but his eyes didn’t waver from the woman who looked like his wife. He nodded.

Y’shtola looked to her. “Tell him something that only you would know. Something you’d never reveal under even the gravest duress.”

Her eyes danced back and forth, considering, thinking. Finally, they widened and she smiled again. Closer and closer, she approached him, but now he didn’t move. Could….could it be?

She whispered in his ear and he cried out in joy. His world faded, and there was nothing more than the woman in front of him. He pulled her in, crushing against her. Her arms wrapped around his back and pulled in just as strong. So many sensations, so many memories flooded him, and he took all of them in. The scent of her, the feel of her living body preseed to him, the sound of her voice as she whispers her love between sobs. He could not reply, too overwhelmed to cry and breathe.

Tataru moved next to Y’shtola, unable to take her eyes off of the embracing pair. “It…it really is her.”

Y’shtola nods.

“But…how?”

“I think that story is best told to us from them. Once everyone has joined us. I think our resident Old Man may finally be ready to open up, since the loss that caused him so much pain is no longer lost at all.”

Finally, Franks was able to catch his breath and he pulled back to look at her. He kept her close, arms wrapped around her waist, as though he feared she might vanish into mist if he let go. For her part, she likewise kept her arms solidly behind his neck. “Gwen….I…I don’t understand. They…multiple people told me they saw you get taken by Sylvanas’ death squads. We…” He hiccuped. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he kept going. “We scattered when we heard you got taken…that’s, that’s how I ended up here.”

She smiled. “They were right. I was put in with dozens of others, taken to a camp somewhere in Hillsbrad, couldn’t tell you where exactly. We were lined up. Living prisoners had their names taken, checked off a list, then executed right then and there. Some were….were fed to the soldiers. Others to plaguehounds. But for whatever reason, they didn’t kill the Forsaken. Maybe she had sentimentality about us, or maybe she planned to do it later, but we were just shoved into a makeshift prison and left there. We got food occasionally, but no interaction otherwise. Just neverending boredom. Zenjulin and Beskar finally found the place and killed off the few remaining loyalists that still manned it, freeing us.”

She shuddered. “By that point, the Banshee had fucked off to…wherever it was she went. I don’t know. Zenjulin explained it, but I wasn’t listening very well. Or he was missing details, I don’t know. Anyway, he said that our allies were being brought back together to stop her and whatever else she’d brought with her, but that you were still missing. I told them I refused to do anything until I found you. They understood, and I started tracking your movement. Which was hard, because you’d concealed them well, but eventually I made it to Stranglethorn and discovered the cave, the one Y’shtola tells me you came to that same one and it brought you here.”

Franks looked over to Y’shtola, who smiled. “I went there to take some readings, and found her emerging out of the cave. Once I realized who she was, I brought her straight here and had Tataru contact you.”

“Thank you.”

She shook her head. “There is nothing to thank.”

Franks looked back to Gwen. “I… gods, Gwen, you look like the day I asked you to marry me. Even despite all the years, both living and dead, I recognized you right away. I…I actually hallucinated last night…I saw you. Worked for too long without sleeping again. You looked…almost exactly as you do now.” He chuckles. “You uh…you didn’t have these, though”.

He reached up to stroke the fur of her ears. She made a very happy noise at the touch. “Okay, those are definitely a little sensitive, good to know.” She cuddled up against his shoulder, enjoying the sensation.

Eventually he stopped and pulled back again, looking her over. Everything was the same, her long graying hair, two green eyes, one slightly darker than the other, on a heart-shaped face. Everything save the ears. He vaguely recalled the shape of her human ears, but they were no longer there.

She giggled. “I…I don’t know what changed me or why it gave me my youthful body with these ears, honestly. You, though, you look a little bit older than the day you asked me to marry you. Maybe…around our 10th anniversary, I’d guess? Bit more white though, not that I mind. That haircut’s definitely a lot better, someone’s been taking care of you on that front, I see.

She placed her hands on his arms, rubbing them appreciatively. She moves them to his chest and down to his abs, sculpted like they’d been in his younger days from long hard hours of farmwork. “And I see you’ve definitely been taking care of the rest of you. Been way too long since I’ve seen these muscles.” she purred.

Franks laughed nervously. “Well, um….you get a second chance like this, you tend to appreciate and take care of things you took for granted…before.” His hands slipped down to her hips.

Their eyes met, growing lidded. Slowly, he ran his hands up her sides, appreciating every ilm of her curves, ghosting the sides of her breasts. He pulled her close, and their lips met in a kiss they’d not been able to share in decades.

Memories of all of their favorite intimate moments with the other flooded their minds, and both had a realization that those moments could now not only be remembered, but now relived. The rest of the world had long been forgotten and their kisses and touches became more heated when the world suddenly reminded them that it was still there.

“Ahem”

The pair broke, looking in the direction of the voice. The other Warriors of Light and the senior members of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn had all entered and were staring at the pair in varying levels of confusio

Rheika spoke up. It had been her voice that broke into their moment, Franks realized. “I hate to interrupt your moment, I swear I do, but uh…didn’t we have some kind of emergency? Also, um, who is this? Not that you don’t deserve to kiss someone that gorgeous, but I feel like I’m missing part of the story here.”

Franks laughs. Both he and Gwenefyr have turned beet red having realized just how much of a crowd their reunion had attracted. “Ah, yes. Um, well, everyone…allow me to introduce you all to Gwenefyr Franks. My…not quite late wife, as it turns out”

She giggled at that. “Hi, everyone. Y’shtola’s told me a little about you all. I…think I recognize at least some of you from her stories.”

Franks looked over everyone. Thancred, Estinien, and Alisaie weren’t even masking their suspicion. Dahkar, Alphinaud, and Rheika wore expressions of shock. Fearless looked like she was going to explode with joy. Urianger just looed perplexed.

It was Thancred who stepped forward. “Franks….are you sure? I mean, we’ve seen the Asicans puppet dead bodies before..

He immediately shook his head. “No, no, I thought the same thing. But remember, Elidibus didn’t have access to Ardbert’s memories so Y’shtola asked her to tell me something only she would know. It…it’s definitely her.”

Gwen took his hand and looked to the gunbreaker. “Thancred, right?”

Thancred nodded.

“Y’shtola told me you’d probably be the hardest to convince. I don’t know what to say or do to prove to you that I’m not a…..Asican, was it? But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. To all of you. Because I’m not going anywhere.” She looked up to her husband. “Right?”

He looked right back to her, his eyes sad. “I…don’t think I can go back there again. Not if it means…going back to the way our forms were.Are you…okay with that? With leaving it all behind? I promise, this place is…it’s worth it.”

She nodded. “I don’t think I can either. Azeroth has taken enough from us. And the others…they told me they won’t be surprised if we don’t return to the fight. They’re prepared to keep working towards the dream, but they’ll have to do it without us. I’m not going anywhere without you, love. We have a second chance at actual life and I’m not going back to a world without it or without you.”

Alphinaud speaks up. “Apologies, but did you say Azeroth? I’ve not heard of such a place.”

Franks nods. “Yeah. That’s….that’s the other reason I’m pretty confident she’s not an Ascian. And it’s a story most of y’all long overdue for hearing. And now that I have…gods I can’t believe I have you back…ahem. Well, there’s just no point in hiding it anymore. Gather round…time I told the full story of where I….where we are actually from.”

[daaziscoolbesties]

[REPOST] MY 2K WORD COMMENTARY/ANALYSIS OF RANBOO’S LORE STREAM

‼️‼️This post contains lore spoilers from Ranboo’s 4/23 stream, “The Enderwalk Saga. Chapter 1: The Lessons”. If you haven’t seen that stream don’t read ahead unless you want spoilers‼️‼️

disclaimer: this isnt really an analysis as much as a bunch of commentary and half-baked theories.

-on the way to the mansion he was sort of talking to himself saying stuff like "i'm good i'm good" which m a y be a normal thing but also maybe it's not and it flew over our heads cause he talks to chats and donos like that so often

-again, this one may just be a normal thing but when he was climbing up the stairs in the mansion looking for foolish, he repeats some of his words like down to the exact same tone of voice and everything. 12:42,  "this mansion is way too big actually. this mansion is way too big actually." (why the repeated actually? seems odd to me but again it might just be a normal thing that i haven't picked up on). (right after) "okay okay lemme find him lemme find him" again repeated words in the e x a c t same tone.

-does everyone know about ranboo's silk touch hands ability thing? or was that just a techno and ranboo main character moment. bc if it was, how would foolish know that ranboo could pick up the full cake after it'd been partially eaten. unless everyone on the sever knows about that in which case this means nothing. but if they d o n t know... how would foolish know? ranboo wrote about it in the do not read book so maybe if it's not a publicly known thing maybe foolish got his hands on the book and read it??

-14:53-ish, they're talking about the war room and how it was for tubbo or whatever and ranboo says, and i quote "he prepares for lore but he's never gonna do it." now funny thing is at first i couldn't tell if he said "war" like in reference to the war room or "lore". but after playing the clip over and over i can say with ALMOST 100% certainty that he said lore. there is a definite L sound at the beginning of the word. which either means a) this was a slip up (doubtful bc he said later that there were no mistakes), b) he broke the fourth wall because they were supposed to be rping at that point, or c) i'm completely wrong and he said "war" which leads down an entire other road of possibilities

-15:17 "are you a book reader?" "*checks inventory for do not read book* uh yeah i'd say i'm a book reader-" dunno how i didn't catch this the first time I HATE THAT DAMN BOOK

-15:18 there's blue in his hotbar. where did he get the blue.

-16:40 "it's like a metaphor- i have two minds: i have my normal self, my normal little shift-dancing self, and then the builder one. the builder one is demanding. it's a very demanding mind." ranboo then lets out a weird sigh after this. i feel like what foolish was talking about was an indirect(?) parallel to ranboo in and out of enderwalk, there's how he normally is, trying to do best for others, and then there's enderwalk, meeting up with bad guys and "demanding" things (its very late as i write this i really don't know what i'm talking about)

-17:11 "you have your panic closet" i'm sorry his what now 😀 no but seriously how the hell did i miss some of these

-18:04 "you're asking me if i remember?" very funny ranboo thank you for making jokes in these trying times

-18:25 WHY DID HE GET OUT THE AXE WHEN STARING AT THE BEE

-19:38 why did foolish hold the grass block- most of these observations probably mean nothing but- h u h - is that- i'm too tired for this

-19:54 "i never properly thanked you for the deal you made with me" so foolish got something out of this deal, we're not sure if ranboo did. "the green cardboard box" again do you mean dream's house- but seriously the only people i can think of on the server that are associated with green are dream and sam. and i have no idea what cardboard box could be referring to.  foolish got a lime colored shulker from drista

-20:30 "we're supposed to only talk about it at a certain location" hmm now where would that be? panic room maybe? cause like usually after doing a big thing in the enderwalk state ranboo wakes up in the panic room so maybe?  the deal was that they only talk about it in his house

-21:52 how does ranboo receive(?) the lessons? like are they whispered to him in his mind or is he seeing them as words in front of him like we see? hmm

-"Lesson 14: If you have the opportunity to gain a favor, take it." "gain a favor" don't you usually ask people for favors though? how does one "gain a favor"? anyways i'm pretty sure lesson 14 has to do with the deal foolish was talking about. (the deal explained because i now have info: at some point a bit ago foolish met up with ranboo and asked to make a deal, he'd gotten a shulker box from drista. the deal was that ranboo would have ownership of the box, it would be under his name but foolish rents/borrows it indefinitely. ranboo negotiated that if he took ownership of the box he would get a "war favor"  from foolish where if something happens that creates sides, ranboo can ask him a favor that could change his side. but why would foolish want ranboo to have ownership of the shulker you may ask? well i have an answer for you. a theory actually but still. basically since drista technically isn't supposed to give out shit on the server if someone where to have that stuff then they may get in trouble. foolish wants to be able to use the shulker but if it gets found he doesn't want to get in trouble, so he can blame it on ranboo seeing as it's under his name.)

-22:16-ish "i still have this from when you *can't understand whats said here*" well i guess that sort of explains why he had the grass block? idk man (info update: he had the grass block from when ranboo threw it at him telling him to calm down like what ghostbur does with blue)

-31:35 "i figured out how to cause it" how to cause the enderwalk state

-38:30 "ninety three lessons" I STILL DONT KNOW WHY HE KEPT SAYING NINETY THREE AND NOT NINETY FOUR AND ITS DRIVING ME CRAZY LMAO

-39:01 "it's all for the greater good" okay well when are you gonna start thinking about yourself and not everyone else for once huh. self care bitch.

-40:31 he started holding the axe when he was looking at sam- gonna say it i really don't like that axe ahahah- WAIT A DAMN MINUTE THE AXE IS NAMED "axe of ender" I DONT LIKE THAT I DONT LIKE THAT AT ALL

-41:53 is there something?? physically keeping him from telling sam??? or maybe it's sort of like his enderwalk state taking control to make him shut the fuck up??? so many questions and approximately zero answers

-43:18 ranboo raising his voice legitimately scares me 😀👍

-"Lesson 27: Do not reminisce on what you have lost for it will weigh you down." showed up when he was thinking about and REMINISCING about the community house 👀👀

-"Lesson 53: Never fully trust anyone." showed up literally after he said that he thinks he can trust the other people on the server enough to tell them about what he did

-"Lesson 67: Leave no evidence of what you have helped with." this is different from the others because there doesn't seem to be at least a semi-direct connection to it? unless maybe at the time ranboo was near something he may have "helped with"? not sure about this one

-"Lesson 94: DO NOT LET THEM KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE" yeah yeah i get it i get it he's fucked up some shit in enderwalk i don't feel like analyzing this thanks

-OH OH NOTICE HOW HE SAYS "REMEMBERING" WHEN THE LESSONS SHOW UP. IMPLYING THAT THIS ISNT A NEW THING, ITS HAPPENED BEFORE AND NOW HES REMEMBERING IT. MAYBE HE WROTE DOWN THE LESSONS WHEN HE WAS IN ENDERWALK AND NOW THAT HES BEEN EXPERIMENTING ITS BEEN EASIER FOR HIM TO REMEMBER THOSE ENDERWALK MEMORIES

-okokok the experiments are that he's been e x p e r i m e n t i n g on how to purposefully induce the enderwalk state. and we know now that it wasn't from the pain of the water because on the stream afterwords he said that it's caused by the intense fear of something happening. and so the "side effects" of the experiments is that since he's in enderwalk more often(?) he starts remembering more things from it

-OH MY GOD WAIT "there is a reason sam, there's so many reasons, theres ninety three of them" (44:47) WHAT IF EVERY LESSON IS TIED TO A QUOTE UNQUOTE "reason" THAT RANBOO THINKS HES A BAD PERSON/NEEDS TO BE LOCKED UP BUT HE SAYS NINETY THREE INSTEAD OF NINETY FOUR BECAUSE THE NINETY FOURTH LESSON DOESNT HAVE A REASON YET/HE DOESNT REMEMBER IT HAVING A REASON

-dude honestly the whole sam part hurts so much this man is scarily good at acting

-46:46 "i cant put you in the prison you wouldn't be able to see michael anymore" bestie that's the point he doesn't want to accidentally hurt michael or tubbo in the enderwalk state—

-okay but there's no way that sam couldn't tell that ranboo was at least TRYING to confess to something- i feel like he definitely knows more than he's letting on because usually like when people do bad shit or admit to doing bad shit he's like in Prison Guard Mode™️ (he literally cut off ponk's arm because he stole some keycards or something) and whatever and idk what he knows but he definitely knows something and is trying to protect ranboo. or he's trying to manipulate him or smth either one works—

-50:38 "you are a good person" "i am?" you can hear my heart shatter. "yes you are" "i don't think so sam" "i do, even if you don't" "i really don't think so" and there it goes again

-51:25 hello badboyhalo i see you to the left of ranboo

-52:44 "but then my curiosity got the best of me" curiosity killed the cat, bitch

-52:54 "there's ninety three, ninety four, ninety- theres so many reasons!" SEE!! NOT ONLY ARE THERE THAT MANY LESSONS THERE ARE REASONS THAT CORRESPOND IM S O SMART—

-52:56 "i don't want to remember anymore!" *quietly brings forth my theory that when ranboo loses a canon life his memory gets wiped*

-53:13 "ive opened pandora's box" isn't the prison?? literally called pandora's VAULT??? so this m a y be a stretch but i'm thinking that maybe this could be taken in the literal sense that he "opened" the prison and let dream out (the sirens at the end of quackity's stream confirm that dream is indeed out)

-53:42 mans just straight up walked through a ghost i—

-55:37 so are we just gonna ignore the eleventh page of the book? "he's alive, but hopefully soon dream won't be"??? alright nevermind it's most likely bc when tommy came back he recruited ranboo in his plan to kill dream

-55:47 notice how he writes "what am i?" as opposed to "who am i?" no elaboration here idk what it could be

-56:08 just so it's clear for anyone who doesn't know- he's wearing armor at this point, and i'm like 90% sure that when he wears his armor water can't hurt him. and i saw someone say somewhere that like with splash potions when thrown it turns into a gas-like thing? so again, it didn't hurt him, he didn't get hurt. he said in the chill stream that he wasn't comfortable making it where his character had to hurt himself to do that. the thing that causes the enderwalk isn't pain, it's intense and sudden emotions like fear and stress. thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[the-fiction-witch]

The Other Harmon P1 - P5

TV SHOW : THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER RATING: Flirty Af

Part 1: Happiness 

I laid looking at the ceiling, pondering, thinking, My brain never turned off. It never had as long as I remember, my life had been a strange one and yet I had found my own happiness, I just have hope my sister will find it likewise just I imagine not the way I did, as we had always been two rather different Harmon's.

"Uummmm..." I heard beside me looking to the other half of my bed as he turned over his mop of messy long hair matted and out of place more so than usual, his face a picture of peace and relaxation his facial hair sat as perfect as usual, his strong skinny upper body out from our covers a little the rest of him wrapped up warmly his face stiffened and he grimaced "y/n? What are you doing still awake?" He asks with a yawn

"Nothing Benny, I couldn't sleep"

"Alright, come on, come here honeydew... Let's get some rest, got a plane to catch in the morning" he yawns pulling me to his chest like I was his teddy bear. Not that I minded at all. I kissed his bare skin and nuzzled closer to him trying to lose myself in a dream.

Part 2: Promise Me!

"Girls-"

"Mother? What's going on?" My sister spoke

"Girls we just uhh were just going on an uhh a little trip out for ice cream," my mother said in a hurried tone as she drove "okay baby just close your eyes, close your eyes and you promise me you'll look after your sister"

"Mother-"

"Promise me!"

"I promise"

I remember little else of what happened. I just remember my sister holding my hand as they took us somewhere, I didn't understand where They took me away from my sister for reasons I didn't know.

"Elizabeth Harmon, and Y/n Harmon. Eight and four" a man said as he made notes taking me somewhere else.

I would see my sister often but she never seemed happy all she ever wanted to do was play chess and I didn't understand it. I liked to watch but I couldn't play honestly. I didn't really want to but I knew the more my sister grew to know that board the less she would grow Into my sister. One day people came and we were told to wash up and dress nicely. I showered, brushed my teeth and put on my prettiest dress doing my hair Into braids with small blue ribbons even shinned my little shoes. And I went and waited for what felt like forever until Beth arrived

"Where have you been?" I asked

"Sleeping"

"But this is important"

"It's just another couple who will look at us see us as a package and not bother" she explained "they always want you... they never want me"

"Well... maybe if you tried"

"You think I don't?"

"I'm sure you do beth," I nodded as the door opened and we were ushered inside and there sat a rather nice looking couple. Things were said and disgusted but I barely spoke a word until they left and we were told to pack.

Part 3 : Different

I forced so much of that time away from me watching only as she got better she drifted away from me, I remember wondering around this hotel as Beth chatted with her friends. I saw someone sitting discussing chess to some other men. Something about him seemed so... different.

All these boys were stuck up little nerds in suits with pocket protectors for their pens, hair gelled back and glasses perched but...

He was different. His jeans tight to his body leaving little to imagination a tight belt around his waist a black shirt under a green shirt unbuttoned slightly but all hidden by this long leather coat, his slender pale neck intrigued me his face youthful and yet aged a speckling of facial hair giving him a look of someone more mature his brown eyes seemed to hesitate on the crowd he spoke to his hair pulled back by his hat but it was obvious it was long and unruly. Someone came over and the crowd quickly left him alone. He stopped of course and turned to scan the room until he saw me. His eyes flicked up and down before he seemed confused. I went over out of curiosity sitting on the chair across the table from him

"Hello" I smiled

"Hi, how old are you little girl?" He asks

"Old enough to know better" I smiled making him chuckle a little too "are you playing today?"

"No, I just come to... see old friends and check what's going on" he explained, "do you play?"

"Not really, watched a lot," I said

"Here, I'll give you a game," he says laying out a thick wooden board and laying out all the pieces all the years of watching beth and I knew so little "don't worry, I'll go easy on you" he winked moving a piece I had no plan or much skill of moves or starters or anything like that I just plaid and not five minutes later "Hu... you uhhh your good"

"Thank you" I smiled

"I think I know who you are, '' he smirked "your Beth Harmon? Aren't you? That kid that knocked Harry off his perch in Kentucky?"

"Ohh no" I laughed

"No? Who are you then?"

"Y/n, Beth's my sister" I answered

"Is she now, well it was very nice to play you y/n"

"It was nice to play with you too" I smiled "ooh sorry I uh-"

"Benny, Benny watts" he smiled offering his hand I happily took it and he gave my hand a little kiss before getting up with his stuff to go elsewhere

"Who was that?" Beth asked behind me

"Who?" I asked

"Who was that you were just talking to?" She asked

"Ooh... just a boy" I smiled

"A boy? What were you doing?" She asks sitting with me

"We played a game is all"

"I thought you hated chess?"

"I don't hate it, I don't love it, it's a nice game," I said

"Who was he y/n?"

"He said his name was Benny"

"Benny? Benny watts?" She asked and I nodded "you- you just played a game against Benny watts?"

"Yes, he seemed lovely, A very fine gentlemen" I smiled

"Y/n, you know who that was right?"

"No..."

"He's US champion"

"Ooh, well I beat him, though he was going easy on me" I explain

"This is why I don't take you places" she sighed going off elsewhere.

Part 4 Our Little Secret 

Beth barely let me on trips after that she didn't seem to like me around when she was doing chess for whatever reason but I went with her and our new mother to las Vegas I stood around this strange place seeing so many names and so many tables I simply wondered thought in my dress trying not to draw attention to myself, I spotted on a board of people the name of my sister. I also saw not far away on the list a name I remembered from what feels like so long ago Benny watts I remember that name it's funny but since that day I had I suppose you could call me a groupie if chess has groupies, fan I suppose.

I kept an eye on him, magazine articles of him, pictures of little things mostly even if I hid them under my bed not wanting Beth to know, I thought something pleasant about him and the fact I had beaten him so long ago even if no one knew that but him and I. It was like a secret we shared.

And just at that moment, a familiar voice spoke up

"Well, well, little y/n Harmon. What are you doing here?' I heard I turned and saw Benny much as I Last did in fact almost exactly like a picture I clipped from chess review not two weeks ago

"Benny watts" I smiled so excited to see him "ohh well just here for beth and all"

"Of course yeah, hopefully, I should at least get to play your legendary sister" he laughs "you know one of these days you should enter"

"Me? No, no chess is Beth's thing I wouldn't want to impose"

"Y/n if beth can wipe the floor with these boys you can do it with your eyes closed," he says

"Chess isn't my thing, never has been"

"You beat me"

"I haven't forgotten that Mr Watts" I blushed

"Aren't we growing up to be a proper lady?" He laughs "growing up a lot back home? Aren't you?" He asked as I caught his eyes lingering in me I blushed hard seeing such a thing

"Yes, I am"

"I can tell," he says "how about a game?"

"It's alright, you don't want to do too many today"

"Come on, just for fun," he says

"No thank you, how was Austin?"

"Sorry?"

"You were in Austin recently, how was it?"

"How do you know?"

"I keep up with chess review, well once beth is done with it" I smiled

"Do you? Are you keeping an eye on me?"

"I like keeping an eye on you" I smiled "so how was it?"

"It was Lovely"

"I always wanted to go..."

"I'll have to take you with me, next time" he smiled "just answer me something... honestly, I'm sure when Beth has things written about her in all these chess magazines she cuts them out and then lets you have them?"

"Yes" I nodded

"And then if it happened in those said chess magazines happen to have anything about... me in them, do you have a read?"

"Of course I do like I said I keep an eye" I smiled

"And would all those little clippings about me be in a secret box under your bed so beth doesn't find out what you've been doing?" He asked and I froze up completely "I take that as a yes, don't worry our little secret" he winked "I'm sure I'll see you later y/n" he smiled giving my hand a little kiss and he went off somewhere I assume for a game but as I watched him walk away I felt something strange. A horrible pain in my stomach...

Part 5: A Woman 

I ran as fast as my feet would carry me up to the room, my mother and beth both gone already I ran to the bathroom pulling up my dress and my many petticoats seeing the trail of thick red blood that had begun to form as my stomach cracked with the horrific pain as badly as it had earlier. I pushed my dress off me and almost saw the blood coming out of me as I cried out in pain, I grabbed as much toiler paper as I could rolling it up and cleaning myself up and going back to watch beth.

"You alright darling?" Our adoptive mother asks

"Uhh yeah" I nodded

"what's wrong?" she asked pulling me to the side a little

"I uh I started"

"Ohh, first time?" she asks and I nodded a little scared almost in tears she handed me something from her handbag and a couple of pills "Go on it'll help," she says

"It hurts"

"they'll help with the pain"

"why does it have to hurt?"

"who knows" she sighed "But you're a woman now" she smiled

"Can... things cause it?"

"Like what darling?"

"Like... sinful things, or people?" I asked

"no of course not darling its a natural part of being a woman" she explained "All though... being excited doesn't help" she winked "why do you ask?"

"No reason" I smiled as I glanced across the hall to a table with benny playing against his opponent.

[bubblesyoh]

Finesse

1.

No matter how many times Michael has seen it, Alex Manes in a tux was a sight. The dark blazer hugs his shoulders and arms just the right way, Michael's eyes follow the flex and dip of every muscle thinking how amazing the suit would look on the floor later that night. There was just something so alluring when Alex suit up, somehow it complimented him, enhancing his sharp features to something almost God-like.

"Michael?"

"Uh," Michael said, eloquently. "Yeah. The shirt looks good."

"Sure," Alex replies, adjusting his tie, sounding like he was having fun. Sometimes Michael was glad for their line of work, being a spy was always more fun when you had Alex in a suit to ogle at.

"You clean up nicely," Michael told him, waiting for Alex to do his tie correctly before leaning him against the door, eyeing him up and down, dragging their lips together, hot and wet.

Alex moans, a barely-there sound in the back of his throat, and breaks the kiss, "Your turn to dress up."

.

Michael used to be terrible at blending in, especially in charity events. All the people chatting and mingling, canapes and crystal flutes clinking, used to make Michael itch, it was oppressing, he felt like he didn't belong. Then one day, Alex came along and Michael could finally breathe in easier and play his part. He nips on the miniature sandwich as he walks to Alex, who is in the middle of some conversation. Alex is gorgeous when standing tall and proud of himself, the way his eyes lit up when he smiles at Michael is ethereal. God damn it, those cheekbones.

Michael goes easily when Alex crooks his fingers, ordering him closer. He flinches slightly when Alex pushes him closer, as he whispers a Michael to his ear, the warm air escaping his lips and tickling the sensitive skin of Michael's neck. Half of it was Alex putting on a show, after all, they were here as a job, but the rest was definitely Alex teasing him, and if there was one thing Michael loved, was to play games.

Michael, casually, gropes Alex's butt, perfectly round by the amazing pants he was wearing, Michael is fighting such a voracious battle that he has to bite his lip when he whispers back; "Saving the best for last."

While they know it is not correct, and if any of the other members of the crew would find them making out like horny teenagers in a tiny bathroom the teasing would be nonstop, well, that is how they end up. It's cramped and the stall barely has enough room for them both in it, but it's not like either of them mind as they're pressed as close against one another as possible anyway.

"What am I going to do with you, Michael." Alex groans, but there's a distinctive trace of amusement dancing in his voice.

Michael doesn't answer, instead, he shushes Alex with a warning glare, reminding him they have to be careful and kisses him. He holds onto Alex to dear life, drinking of the muffled moans and all the other noises that Alex is trying to get out. By the time they let go of each other, Alex looks wrecked, hair disheveled, eyes dark and an undone tie hanging around his neck precariously. Michael thinks he looks delicious.

2.

They had an entire day just for the two of them today, and they were trying to make the best of it. Sometimes Alex felt silly, to bring Michael on a coffee date, such a mundane thing to do. The discrepancy between their jobs and their private lives was a laughable thing. That was Alex's mistake, to think they had a private life. Because when Michael took too much time in the bathroom, Alex did not think much of it, and when more time passed and Michael did not appear, eventually it clicked, but by then Michael was long gone.

Usually, Alex is good at following the rules they have, even if they are self-employed, it is a risky business. But love is a fickle thing that is uncertain and Alex had walked into it with eyes wide open and still managed to let it bite it in the ass. He is angry, at them for taking Michael, and at himself for letting this happen. Isobel is not pleased with him, Kyle has no right to judge him, and Max is a hypocrite.

The enemy does not want money, no, they want information. Information that if ever comes to light, it will create a war of proportions never seen before. Everyone is breathing down his neck, demanding that he fix the situation, as if it would be easy to trade the information they have for Michael. He entertains doing it for a few minutes, to do it and let everyone else deal with the fallout, but what would become of them then? Spent the rest of their lives running, to never feel safe, and be constantly looking over their shoulders?

This is not the first time they had trouble with an enemy agency, but it is the first time that it escalated to such a shit show. They received a small video recording of Michael, and Alex is trying to track it down. The only reassurance Alex has is that Michael can fend for himself, on another hand Michael also likes to antagonize and taunt. The only lead they have is a five-second clip of Michael smirking at the camera with a split lip, blood trailing down his chin, and tainting his shirt red.

The next day, Kyle and Liz come and take over, allowing Alex a few hours of restless sleep where the sound of Michael's labored breathing echoes in his ears, accompanied by that damn smirk. He finally sleeps a few hours, holding onto the thought they will not kill Michael if they want information. He dreams of Michael's warm and pleasant laugh echoing in his ears.

3.

Michael woke up to the cold concrete, digging into his face, his head was pounding, mouth dry. For a long moment, he fought to understand what was happening, but somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a sense of urgency. It was hard to think, his mind heavy and slow, it was a struggle to open his eyes and once he finally succeeded, he had to blink for long minutes for his eyes to get used to the bright light.

There were no windows, just a small cement cell with nothing on it, not even a mattress. There are no visible hinges on the door, there is no vent in the ceiling, only the neon-bright light. The door opens outwards, no amount of pushing on the door gave results, not even a smudge. Michael eventually gives up and sits against the wall, legs crossed. He felt strangely raw, overwhelmed by the slightest sensation.

"I see you are awake," a voice said echoes around the room. It was a dark voice, one which stirred a memory. If only he could push through the grogginess. Drugs. The realization did not bring the sudden alarm it should have caused, even though there was still an insistent sense of urgency at the back of his mind.

"What do you want?" Michael asks, his mind is a swirl of racing thoughts and only one of them comes through loud and clear.

Danger.

Before he can react, there are cold hands on his wrists squeezing, pulling him up roughly. His stomach churns, the nausea was so strong that Michael thinks he will vomit. Time passes, whether it's seconds or hours, there's no way to be certain, every muscle in his body ached, his heart is beating inhumanly fast, he's gasping for air.

One of his wrists is already broken when they strap him down to the table, even if Michael doesn't remember fighting back and things only go downhill from there. They ask him things he has no intention of answering, and he tells them so, cheerfully.

He laughs then, when he is finally coming to himself, no longer lost in the haze of uncertainty.

"Jesse Manes."

4.

Michael is not here, but he lingers in Alex's apartment. There are so many little things that remind Alex of him, a pair of forgotten shoes by the door, a stupid shirt over the sofa, on the coffee table a couple of science magazines, those terrible personalized mugs with puns, I love you s'more is currently drying on the rack.

He and Michael had a long story, not always the easiest, but if there was someone Alex would trust with anything, Michael was that person and part of him is angry at his stupid partner that let himself being captured. The other part is angry at himself for letting their relationship became entangled with their line of work. It had been such a selfish decision, but at the same time, it had been for their happiness. How could not Alex thought this was a possibility, his father after all was a rancorous man.

Angrily wiping the tears from his burning eyes, Alex takes the gun and inspects it, dissembles and reassembles, familiarizing himself with the weight of it in his hand. Or maybe he was just anxious and needed something to do with his hands. That was most likely the reason even if he wants to deny it.

"You're not reporting?" Kyle asks, looking over Alex's shoulder at Alex's work, trying to decipher how he had found out where Michael was. Earlier today they had received another email, this time there was a photo of Michael attached to it. He was bloody and smiling once again for the camera, mocking his kidnappers. Alex wanted him right next to him.

Alex does not answer right away, instead, he loads the gun. "This is personal. You know what they do to people in those places."

"Alex, it is also a trap and you know it."

"This is personal, Kyle," He repeats once more. Everyone needs to understand that this is Jesse Manes and nothing else. It's an evil and disgusting plot to try and destroy Alex. "My father is busy doing whatever the fuck he does, and we are here losing time arguing."

"You can't go alone. It's dangerous." Kyle places a hand on his arm to stop him. "I want you to stop and think for a moment. There are safer ways to get Michael back, dive headfirst into this is not one of those."

Alex's glares and Kyle glares back, not relenting. But Alex does not want to understand, he lifts his chin in defiance, face impassive and cold. Alex just wants Michael back, Alex wants him back right this instant. Kyle lets go of his arm and stares right back at Alex, making his choice known.

5.

"You talk too much," were the words out of the man's mouth as he shoved him back in the cell, Michael had to choke a laugh at them. That felt like it was a month ago.

Michael doesn't know how long he's been locked in the small windowless room. There's nothing to pass the time but his thoughts and the occasional meal and cup of water that comes through a slat at the door. His arm aches something fierce, a sharp pain that comes from his fingers all up to his elbow and travels to his shoulder whenever he tries to move the injured limb.

There's been no more demands, no more questions, only the occasional beating. There's no reason for more, Jesse Manes clarified that Michael was part of his crazy scheme to lure Alex. Michael can feel things changing. But what more can he do if not sit on the ground, hours upon hours, the cell constantly illuminated by the light bulb, thinking about how he misses Alex, wishing for him to come, but also for him to stay away and save himself.

He wonders if they miss him, his team, his family, just as much as he misses them. He considers what they think of him for getting caught in such an ordinary way. Michael was drugged in a coffee shop bathroom, what a joke. But most of all he thinks about Alex, his mind always goes back to him no matter what, and that is most likely the only thing keeping him sane, that and the wait for the right moment to attack.

6.

"I had a plan!" Max suddenly shouted, "I had a plan, okay? I was going to get him back!"

Alex bounced his feet on the floor, showing that this explanation wasn't satisfactory. He looks at Kyle because Alex could do this alone, he could also tolerate Kyle's help, but now Max? No.

Max continued anyway, "We need something from them too, the information they have, we need it, Alex. Then I would get Michael out, all right?"

Alex looks at him, not faltering. "I don't give a damn about your plans to get him out once you had gotten something in return. We are getting him out of there now or I will knock that pretentious smile out of your fucking face with my fists."

"Due to the situation, we know that it will be dangerous and if we want to get close enough, we may have to do things that we may not agree with it." Kyle turns to Max and gives him a warning look, Max ignores it.

"Ok, we will head out first thing in the morning." Worry was clear on Max's features, but it was not enough for Alex.

"You do know that Michael is in a research facility, right? We are heading out right now. I will do this and Michael will be safe and sound right here next to me where he belongs." Alex snarls in incredulity. Just the thought of Michael spending another minute in that place was enough to make him nauseous.

They don't understand who Jesse Manes is. No one, besides Alex and Michael, had seen what Jesse Manes is capable of, and if Max had the smallest idea, Alex was sure we would not want to wait until the morning.

.

There it stood the building, so imposing it appears never-ending, from the street it looks like nothing. For Alex, though, it looks empty. There was not a living soul guarding the double doors, no security around the perimeter. The stillness of it all sent shivers running down his spine. It had been too easy to follow the trail of the video and the photo they had sent to Alex. It was almost like they wanted him to find Michael, but if this place was empty, then why had his father run away and left Michael behind?

From the outside, the place seemed to be ok, but when Alex reaches the door, he can hear a faint alarm in the distance. Boots crunching on the gravel floor, Alex braces himself and shoulders straight through the outside door, smashing his way into the building, because fuck finesse. The inside of it was a complete mess, it was as if they knew he was coming and evacuated the place, the distressed wailing of the alarm much more present now. Kyle reaches a hand to a closed-door next to him and it opens without preamble. No security, no lock, nothing.

Alex memorized the blueprints, so he knows that the compound was akin to a maze, rooms, and floors joined by corridors with a polished linoleum floor and white sterile walls, giving the place the impression of a strange cross between a hospital and an asylum. He's immediately on the move, heading in the direction he needs to be going to try to find Michael, letting the information collecting to Kyle.

He runs the length of a lab, there are several pieces of equipment inside, what was once stainless steel and fancy furniture is now broken and in pieces, the leftovers of a hasty retreat. He jumps over the smashed glass and past a couple of bodies of what he assumes must be the technicians. The closer he gets to where he thinks Michael is, the most signs of a fight he catches.

Alex races through a bare cement corridor and kicks through the door he comes across, the lock snapping easily. He immediately comes face to face with three armed guards, they're so shocked by his abrupt entrance that they don't even have time to straighten up before Alex kills the first one, a clean shot to the head. He tries not to ponder on the horrible satisfaction he feels as the body falls to the ground. The next two charges at him, enraged and screaming. Alex ducks from the oncoming fist, smashes one of the man's head against a metal table, aims his gun, and pulls out the trigger at the other.

7.

When needed, Michael had the patience of a saint, he knew an opening would present itself, it was human nature to commit mistakes. Michael was trained to persevere and endure. The agent guarding him has become used to Michael's lack of fight, so when he opens the door one fine day, Michael is ready.

In three steps Michael is close enough to grab the man's wrist, using his arm to shove the others gun away. Still, the agent fires, the bullet nicks Michael's cheek, leaving his ears ringing, along with a trail of hot blood. The agent's eyes flare with rage, face in a snarl, eyes locked on his guns that fall to the ground with a thud. With a quick jerk, Michael lashed out, curling his fingers into a fist and hitting him to the side of his head twice, jabbing him in the nose with his palm, and he falls to the ground unconscious.

Another guard joins the fight then, he feints with his left fist and follows with a leg sweep. Michael expects the blow and jumps over his foot, hitting the agent with a knee in his side. The force behind the blow sends him stumbling back a few steps, but not before Michael had grabbed one of the knives strapped to the other's thigh and throws it straight into the man's eye. That is when a high-pitched wail starts from a nearby speaker, someone had pulled the alarms.

And that is how Alex finds him approximately one hour later, in the middle of some weird-ass laboratory, there was even a shower for chemical decontamination, with half a dozen bodies as company.

"Took you long enough," Michael says, pulling the knife out of a man's throat and blood spews from the wound.

"I knew you had it under control," Alex responds with false dismiss, his eyes scanning Michael with despair. And damn it all, because here is Alex, in one of his black suit without a single wrinkle, despite the chaos all around him. For a moment Michael stays put where he is, trying to understand the absurdity of it all. The man Michael loves just invaded an enemy agency and for Alex, it seems it is just another Sunday.

"Are you alright?" Alex asked, making his way to Michael.

"A few bruises, a minor fracture in my wrist, not much," he smiled grimly. "They don't take too kindly to backtalk."

They are face to face now, noses almost touching, when Alex spins Michael around and herds him towards the exit, as a bullet ricochets off the wall and plows into the cement him with a loud crack, sending tiny fragments of brick flying.

"Amateurs," he says, and Michael lets out a scoff, just as the next bullet embeds itself right above his head. "Better," Alex said with a small nod of approval. Michael sees Alex counting every bullet, waiting for the time the enemy will need to reload and shots two times. He was rewarded by a yell and fires twice more before signaling Michael to follow him.

They weave their way through the blood-soaked floor, Alex practically hauls Michael along the corridors and back into the main floor. If Michael was alone, it would take him a few to find the exit. When they burst through the doors Michael frowns at the sunlight, so different from the artificial light that had kept him company during his vacation, but he also feels like he can finally breathe again.

Max bursts out of the van that's parked across the road, a thunderous expression marring his face. "Would it kill you to listen to me for once in your life?"

"It might," Alex says, uncaring.

"Max," Michael greets.

Suddenly Max seems to remember where they were, mouth gaping open before he nods and gives Michael a quick hug. "Michael, are you okay? Is he okay?" Max asks all over the place.

"No," Michael answers.

"He's fine, some bruises but fine," Alex cuts Michael off with a look that says, what are you doing, he will hover like a mother hen and we want peace and quiet. "Kyle's done?"

"Yes, he's waiting in the car, the place is rigged to blow."

Michael finds himself zoning out from the rest conversation, half-listening as his mind wanders elsewhere, home. Home with Alex, both of them cuddling in front of the TV, buried under blankets, resting against fluffy pillows and a cup of hot chocolate. Michael was never one to be afraid of death, but the possibility of him never being with Alex again makes his heartbeat erratically in his chest.

Delicate fingers touch his cheek and Michael flinches away, pressing his eyes together, bracing for pain, but —

"Come home with me," Alex murmurs softly, voice so full of love and tenderness that Michael would do anything he asked of him.

Michael opens his mouth and closes it seconds afterward, repeats the action various times, and suddenly he is so exhausted that his legs stop supporting him. Alex immediately reaches to steady him, slipping an arm under his shoulder and hauling him to his side, and Michael takes advantage of the position, rests his head on Alex's shoulder, and closes his eyes, just for a few seconds.

Later on, Michael opens his eyes to the sound of a distant boom and what it seems the roar of flames. He doesn't care about it though, the only thing that matters now is the warmth of Alex's arms around him and the soft humming of words he is whispering against Michael's ears.

[artificialqueens]

An Impromptu Reveal (Scyvie) - Haven

A/N - i have never submitted a work here before but decided to just type up this fic and submit it anyways because quarantine really has me bored. i have had this fic written out in my notebook since the reunion aired a year ago and just hadn’t considered actually posting it anywhere since it was completely self-indulgent as i wanted more canon-compliant scyvie and i decided to just write away lol. i kinda have an idea for another work following this but idk, guess i’ll judge based on the reaction this gets!

Scarlet knew this was going to happen. The minute she and Yvie stepped out of the car, she knew this day wasn’t going to end well, there was no way it could. She knew Yvie felt the same way, the queen had hardly spoken the entire drive here, to the WOW studio. The few words she did speak being noncommittal and agreeing, her kisses distracted and tense. Neither of them were looking forward to being face to face with the people who had said unnecessary, cruel words about them behind their backs. She could feel the tenseness radiation off of Yvie and she knew she was probably no different, fidgeting with her acrylics as they procrastinated entering the building. However, they would have to go in eventually and Scarlet knew this. With that thought in mind, she looked up at the taller queen, not bothering to hold back the smile at seeing Yvie’s look; a bathrobe, towel substituting a wig, green face paint to signify a face mask. A not so subtle ‘fuck you’ to the words a fellow queen had dribbled behind her back. If she also liked the look for more self-centred, possessive, green-themed reasons, then that was only for the two of them to know.

“The sooner we go in, the quicker this will be over and we can go home.” Scarlet felt she was trying to calm herself more than Yvie; the grin and nod from the younger queen told her it was appreciated anyway.

By the time they had finally entered the building and arrived in the filming room, almost all of the others were there, aside from Vanjie, Plastique and Ru himself. All eyes turned to them when they entered, the girls greeting the pair and complimenting their looks, asking them how they’d been. Brooke motioned at Yvie, patting the stool between her and A’keria. It made sense for Yvie to sit there, she was in the top four and that was where the top four sit. But, Scarlet couldn’t help the pang when Yvie moved forward to sit there, a brushing of their hands the only goodbye offered.

She had no reason to be upset, really. She had been the one to suggest keeping their relationship a secret until the hype for their season died down, not wanting people to assume she was with Yvie only because of her placement in the competition and not because of how wonderfully irresistible she was, didn’t want to have to explain that they had taken interest in each other after the filming of ‘Good God Girl, Get Out’, had hidden in the shadow of Brooke and Vanji and relished in the privacy of it, the lack of stress brought on by cameras following their every move. She didn’t want to be seen as a clout chaser.

And Yvie, who is as understanding and sweet as she is blunt and feisty, had readily agreed with reassurances on her tongue.

So Scarlet had no reason to feel how she was feeling when Brooke and Yvie gave each other cheek kisses, or when A’keria’s hand found its way to Yvie’s knee. If she was able to deal with what came with publicly dating another Ru Girl, the girls would know to back off. (Of course, in the back of her head she knew A’keria was with someone already and Brooke was likely still reeling from her and Vanjie’s breakup, but she could never help the paranoia.)

Her attention was broken by the sound of her name being called, looking to see Plastique had arrived. They chatted among themselves, but Scarlet couldn’t help her gaze drifting to Yvie every other second.

This continued for another five minutes, Vanjie arriving some time in the middle of it, before Ru arrived, donned in a clean pressed suit as per usual. The queens grew silent at the sound of the crew counting down, being given signal that the cameras were rolling. 

Every girl plastered on a smile as Ru began the introduction, immediately diving in to stirring up drama again, opening up old wounds for the sake of ratings. It was when Ru directed his attention to Ra’jah that Scarlet tensed, watching the clips of the many fights she had been in, the child-like insults she spat in her interviews. She prayed that Ru would leave out of it, and would focus on her and Ra’jah’s conflicts instead. She knew how hurt Yvie was at seeing what Ra’jah had said about her, had been there to reassure her, to stop the walls she had spent so much time carefully taking down from building back up again. She’d have been damned if she allowed one queen’s - frankly pathetic and unoriginal - insults to erase all of the progress she had made with the queen she had loved. No ma’am.

She couldn’t stop the irritated breath she took as Ru, of course, directed all attention to Yvie. Nina looked at her questioningly, but Scarlet simply gave a smile, as if nothing had happened. Nina didn’t seem completely convinced, glancing between her and Yvie, but she dropped it as Yvie started talking and Scarlet’s attention snapped towards the younger queen, chest clenching at the strain in her voice. Yvie was near tears, eyes watery and throat working continuously to get the words out. She was still hurting from what had been said and it made Scarlet hurt, too.

That hurt quickly morphed into anger as Ra’jah started spouting bullshit, trying to excuse her actions and justify them instead of showing any actual remorse.

“That’s not an apology,” She cut her off with a scoff, frustration evident in her tone.

Yvie spoke up in agreement, a hand carefully wiping under her eye “It’s some bullshit!” Ra’jah seemed to be getting increasingly irritated by being cut off.

“Are you gonna let me speak?” She quipped, disguising her frustration behind a mask of politeness that really wasn’t that effective. Scarlet agreed readily, passive aggressively. 

“Oh yeah, you can go ahead,” Seemingly satisfied, Ra’jah opened her mouth to speak again but Scarlet had one more thing to add “But you can direct it over here when you’re done with Yvie because I’ll be damned if I let you believe the way you talked about my boyfriend is acceptable.”

She hadn’t meant to add in the ‘boyfriend’ part.

The reaction was instantaneous, queens were shouting and Yvie was sinking down into her chair, hands coming up to cover her face. Scarlet didn’t move, in shock that the term had left her mouth. Eventually, Ru managed to regain control of the room, the queens quieting down. Yvie peeked out from behind her hands, gaze meeting Scarlet’s own. Scarlet mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ as Ru began to speak.

“When did this happen, ladies?”

Scarlet decided to answer for them, seeing as Yvie was yet to remove her hands from her face. She knew she wasn’t angry with her, just embarrassed, she hated all of the attention on her in any situation that she wasn’t performing. 

“While filming.” She answered bluntly, to which she heard Vanjie speak up.

“How the hell is that a thing, bitch?! We didn’t see nothing!”

“It’s not our fault you and Brooke hogged the spotlight!” She joked, a moment of laughter ringing through the group for a moment. Scarlet laughed along for a moment before clearing her throat and carrying on. “No, uh, in all seriousness, we got, like, together at around episode four, I think? I would have liked it sooner but a certain somebody-” She looked at Yvie, who had emerged from hiding behind her hands and was sitting upright in her chair again, pointedly “Was very evasive to my continuous advances and flirting.” Her teasing was once again met with chuckles, said chuckles turning to full on laughter at Yvie’s indignant “Oh, fuck off!”

Ru spoke up after the laughter died down “Were you evasive, Yvie?”

Yvie huffed “I guess…”

“Why’s that? I’m guessing you returned the feelings Scarlet had for you.”

“Yeah, I did,” She agreed, eyes looking around the room as she tried to word her response “I liked her, too, but, like-” She laughed to herself “It was really hard for me to actually comprehend someone like her being into me. Like, why would someone as beautiful, confident and talented be into this?” She gestured to herself before bursting out with that laugh that Scarlet had grown to adore so much, but the fact that it wasn’t a genuine laugh and instead just something to try and minimise what she had just said, hurt Scarlet. She knew already why Yvie didn’t try to pursue the relationship, they knew every insecurity the other had at this point, but it still hurt to be reminded of just how lowly Yvie had privately thought herself to be. She was glad that was one of the things she’d been able to help her with. 

Various sounds of shock and disagreement rang through the room and Scarlet wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab her hand, to hug her, hold her, support her. She knew how much Yvie disliked how awkward situations like these made her feel and she wanted nothing more than to help calm her down and offer as much comfort as she could, but she couldn’t from all the way across the room.

“Now, you know that’s not true, don’t you?” Ru seemed to have had a bit of a shock from Yvie’s words, not expecting that answer. Yvie looked contemplative for a moment.

“Well, I do now,” She agreed with a nod “Scarlet helped a lot with that.”

Scarlet almost cooed at the soft smile that graced her boyfriend’s features. “You’ve helped me a lot, too, baby.” She was sure her expression matched Yvie’s at this point.

“Y’all sappy as fuck, my Lord!” Vanjie’s voice rang out, causing everyone to laugh. “Me and Brooke weren’t never like that! Y’all can’t say shit to us no more!” Every word just sent the girls into deeper hysterics before Ru reigned everyone in once again.

“Now, as much of a surprise this revelation was, we’re all very happy for you girls, aren’t we, ladies?”

Yvie and Scarlet grinned at each other from across the room as Ru was met with a chorus of agreement.

  Clicks of heels and loud goodbyes, the sound of jewellery clinking and ringtones blaring. Scarlet grabbed a hold of Yvie’s bony wrist as they walked out, lightly tugging her to the side, into the bathroom.

“If you needed to piss you could have just said so,” Yvie snickered “Didn’t need to just drag me in here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you better be, bitch! I could have tripped and fucked my shit up!”

“No, Yvie,” Scarlet cut in seriously, stopping the taller queen in her tracks. “I’m sorry. For telling everyone about us like that. I was the one who didn���t want anyone to know in the first place and I just did that without consulting you, that wasn’t okay-”

“That’s what you’re apologising for?” Yvie snorted with an eyeroll “I actually couldn’t care less, although it’s nice to have people know.” She admitted, in an almost shy way that made Scarlet almost vibrate with adoration. It tensed up when her expression became uncertain, guarded.

“Did you want people to know?” Scarlet took a moment to consider. She never wanted to lie to Yvie, knew the queen would never forgive her if she lied to soothe her right now.

“At first when I said it, I got really scared,” She admitted, Yvie reaching over to hold her hand. She continued, the taller queen running a thumb in smooth, gentle movements. “You know why I didn’t want people to know, but when Ra’jah spoke the way she did to you, it just slipped out. I was so focused on defending you that I forgot I was supposed to be keeping it secret. All I wanted was for her to know that you were my boyfriend and I wasn’t gonna let her pull the shit she was trying to pull.”

Yvie cooed, cupping Scarlet’s face between her hands “Cutie.”

“And I also wanted Brooke to stop feeling you up.” The sound and sight of Yvie breaking out into a laughing fit, a genuine one this time, eased away any doubt Scarlet may have had about what had happened.

[spideesenses]

For I Have Sinned [1] → Peter Parker

pairing: fratboy!peter x reader

warnings: there’s no smut (yet) but the fic is 18+. uhhh, peter has a thing for innocence.

prompt: peter came home for the holidays and much to his dismay, you were the new girl next door.

Winter break was quite a long time from when the school year started, at least that’s how it felt for Aunt May. She missed the brunette boy so much, the house was so quiet without him. He called now and then, keeping her company when she missed him. She didn’t expect to not see him as often, despite living on campus. Peter was at an Ivy League college, she knew he’d be a busy bee. Columbia University was twenty minutes away from Midtown, she just wanted to see him more.

“Oh, Peter, I’m so glad to see you!” May squeezed him in her arms. A chuckle came from the brunette as he hugged her back.

“Hey Aunt May, I’ve missed you too.”

“Come on, settle in!” she exclaimed, tugging him through the door.

His room was exactly how he left it, except maybe it felt a little more fresh and by the looks of it, May had lit a candle a few times, maybe to fill a void? The Star Wars posters that lined his walls made him smile. He hadn’t grown out of it, but it made him laugh to see how much he’d matured. May knocked on his door before poking her head in.

“The neighbors are joining us for dinner tonight. I’m making Pad Thai.” she smiled.

“Ms. Dabney’s coming over?” Peter questioned. He and May hated her. She was a mean old lady who always judged stuck her nose in their business. “And since when did you cook?”

“No, no, Ms. Dabney moved out around the time college started. We’ve new neighbors, there’s a girl probably your age. She’s cute too.” May wagged her eyebrows at the boy, who rolled his eyes. “I started taking cooking classes with my free time.”

“That’s good,” he commented. “How do you like the cooking classes?” He listened as May chatted to him about her daily routine now that he was gone and he talked about his, all while she helped him hang up his clothes. If figured if he was gonna be home for a week and a half, he might as well use the closet.

“So about the girl next door...” May rose her eyebrows.

“May, please do not try to set me up with girls,” Peter frowned. In Aunt May’s mind, Peter hasn’t dated since Liz Allen, who left Peter heartbroken. Which was almost the truth. What she didn’t know was that, Peter was flirting with almost every girl on campus. Being in a fraternity changed you, it gave him power and attention. He was a chick magnet and he kind of liked it, not being tied down to anyone.

“She’s a sweet girl, I think you’d get along with her!” May defended her statement. “Okay fine. But have an open mind about the family next door. Leslie, that’s the mother, was actually the one who got me into yoga. She lives with her daughter, Y/N who is an absolute sweetie.”

May invited Peter out to help her prepare supper. Peter was not as experienced as May was, but she stuck him with simple tasks, like peeling apart the noodles and whisking the eggs. It wasn’t long before a knock on the door symbolized the arrival of tonight’s company. May handed Peter the spatula before running off to the door. From the kitchen, voices of two ladies could be heard: May and Leslie. Peter kept his back to the entrance of the kitchen, focusing on not burning the noodles.

“This is my nephew Peter, the one I’ve been telling you about.” May introduced. Peter turned and saw a middle-aged woman, looking as young as ever.

“Peter, it’s so nice to finally meet you! Your auntie has told me so much.“ Leslie patted the young boy on the back. Before Peter could return the greeting, Leslie looked behind her and frowned. “Y/N! Come and meet Peter!”

And in you came. You wore a blush pink skirt and a white blouse. He couldn’t help but notice your ruffled lace socks. He eyed the hair clips that were in your hair, which framed your face beautifully. You were cute. Hell, you were gorgeous.

“Sorry, I was leaving my shoes at the door,” your voice came out, a light blush painting your cheeks. Your voice was as soft as you looked. Peter noticed the cross necklace that decorated your chest and when you brought your hand out to Peter, he took note of the purity ring. “I’m Y/N.”

It was like Peter had forgotten how to breathe. You were this angel sent from above. You looked it and judging by the jewelry, you probably acted like one too. He cleared his throat, apologizing quickly as he shook your hand and repeated his name.

Peter was stunned. The girls on campus were beautiful, sure they had a different, less-modest style of clothing — not that there was anything wrong with showing skin. But you were this cute little catholic girl, who probably would frown upon showing skin, who also was just as stunning. Maybe he shouldn’t be so judgemental and assuming things of you, but those were his initial thoughts.

“Peter, go show Y/N around.” May jutted her chin out as she took the spatula and turned off the stove. Quickly, the older ladies delved into a conversation, their laughs filling the kitchen. You led the way from the kitchen and Peter watched as your hips swayed lightly, your skirt rising in just the slightest. Peter followed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You stopped once you’d reached the outskirts of the kitchen, peeking over your shoulder.

“Okay, this is our living room. We’ve got lots of movies, but we don’t watch nearly as much as that shelf makes it look.” he joked lightly. Your giggle filled the air and fuck- even your laugh sounded like it’d be from the heavens.

“Don’t worry, May actually tells me you two are really big on reading. I didn’t even notice the shelf until you pointed it out anyway.” your voice was velvety. With every word, you buttered him up, batting your eyelashes. He was convinced you were doing it on purpose, but the aura you emitted said otherwise. You weren’t interested in getting inside Peter’s pants, or anyone’s for that matter. You were just naturally sweet as honeydew.

“That’s good to know,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. “How close are you and Aunt May?”

“Um, we have dinner with her every now and then. She says she enjoys our company, and I couldn’t agree more. She’s very lovely.” you gushed about the lady. “Her and my mom take cooking classes together and do yoga. It’s... endearing, to see my mom have a best friend.”

“I’m happy May has a best friend too. I was worried she would get lonely without me around.” Peter commented as he reached the closed door to his bedroom. “This is my room.” he extended his arm out to open the door.

“W-wait, you want me to go inside?” you blinked a few times, looking down.

“Yeah?” Peter tilted his head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nothing, sorry, I’ve just... never been in a boy’s room before.” you blushed. You were truly embarrassed. You were out of high school and had never been in the presence of a boy, not like this at least.

“You haven’t? Why not? We don’t have to, if that makes you uncomfortable.” Peter quickly said, wanting you to feel as welcome as possible. You thought it’d make him upset; a boy who looks like that would have laughed in your face. But maybe you shouldn’t judge, it wasn’t normally in your nature.

“Uh, I grew up going to an all-girls-school, I’ve never really interacted with boys much.” you were so cute, it almost hurt Peter. You were cute, but in a desirable sort of way. All he could think about was how you were untouched and pure; he truly needed to get his mind out of the gutter, he could not let his frat boy mind take over.

“That kind of sucks. Cause now you’re just thrown out to the world, not knowing what it’s like to interact with everyone, you know?” Peter tried to make you feel better.

“Yeah, you’re right, I agree.“ you nodded your head. “My mom said boys in adolescences get rowdy. But that’s not the only reason why she put me in an all girls school,” you shrugged, not wanting to go on. You wanted to encourage him to show his room, but before he could open the door, supper was ready.

Peter watched again as you skirt swayed from left to right, the natural curve of your body causing the material to lift up again. He cursed to himself, unsure as to why he was thinking such impure things about a pure girl.

You stopped again in your tracks, noticing the absence of his presence. “You coming?” you questioned, looking over your shoulder. He wasn’t yet, but he knew he sure was going to tonight. He snickered to himself, covering it up with a cough before following in suit.

“So Peter, you live on campus?” Leslie asked, before sipping her sparkling water.

“Yeah, I do. I initially thought it’d be easier, with how many classes I’m taking.” the brunette answered.

“And now?”

“Well, I was thinking about it for a while, and I don’t think it’s necessary for me to live on campus. Um, sometimes I just wanna stay at home and make sure I can protect Aunt May.” he looked down at his noodles, shoving some in his mouth. Aunt May looked up from her plate, this was the first she had heard about this. Her heart swelled at the thought of Peter coming back home to her. “I’ll still be taking my classes and courses though, I just have to wait until the end of semester before I can apply for a refund on housing.” he explained. From the corner of his eye, he could see you smiling.

“That’s very sweet Peter. I can tell you love your aunt very much,” your mother beamed. “Well, I’m excited to see you more. You seem like such a bright kid.”

It was undeniable, Peter Parker was irresistible and you had an indescribable, insane attraction to him, but you knew that was all it would ever be.

[halfgclden]

Camping and Cosmos and Crinitus (oh my) | Jordan&Caspar

Date: Late July, 2020

Summary: two bros, chilling at a campsite, zero feet apart cause they are gay

There was a certain nostalgia that came to Jordan as he walked through the woods, a small pack on his back as he followed Caspar to what he'd said was a great spot to see the stars from through the trees. This nostalgia was of course interrupted by the fact that he was with Caspar, holding a leash attached to a dog that kept straining against his harness, and in woods that he had not camped in before. This left it familiar with a slight edge of bittersweetness, which Jordan was unsure about, but still enjoyed. 

When they'd gotten to the campsite, they were eager to set everything up so that they wouldn't have to rush later. The process was not unfamiliar to them, but it still took time, and the sun was hanging low by the time they'd finished, not quite sunset, but early evening. Jordan enjoyed the fact that they were fairly far removed from camp, from deadlines and seriousness. Here it was still, and it was good. Jordan inhaled slowly as he took a seat on the ground in front of his tent. "Do you come out here a lot?"

Caspar had picked this particular spot for the clearing in the above treetops which happened to give way for a great view of the stars. It'd been awhile since he'd done camping like the way these two had planned for tonight. He had become used to opting for a cozy night-in instead, but this was just as much a part of him as taking a great nap was. Even though this little camping trip had been inspired by nothing more than clearly seeing the night sky, it began to feel like a proper holiday once everything was set up. Cas had finished poking at the small fire he'd managed to build and took a few steps back so that he could answer Jordan's question. "Not too much lately," He confessed and then joined his friend on the nearby ground. "I like being outside so much though, I should get back into it," He thought aloud and with a shrug. "Which is why it's so cool that you agreed to come out here."

Jordan watched as Caspar tended to the fire, and unclipped Crinitus from his leash when the puppy seemed calm enough not to immediately bolt into the woods. He nodded at Caspar's answer, pulling his knees into his chest and resting his elbows on them. "Ah, yeah, well, y'know." He pressed his lips together, annoyed at himself for being so inarticulate in response. "Sure love me some outside." He smiled at his friend and shrugged. "Nah, I just haven't been out camping in a long time, so you suggesting it was actually pretty cool. And these woods are different, so it's... I dunno, cool to change it up?" He laughed and shook his head. "We really said fuck being comfortable and having a mattress, huh? Time to sleep on the ground tonight."

Caspar was pleased to have the chance to be sitting there with the company they kept by their side. "Crikey, we defo did. Fuck mattresses, huh?" He chuckled lightly, but was still maybe just a bit self-conscious as well (and seemingly for no serious reason). Having listened to Jordan talk in the way he so naturally did made Cas feel better. His embarrassment was a fickle thing and he leaned back. Jordan's specific brand of humor was much appreciated. "Wait, what’s the scenery like back home for you?" He asked.

Hearing Caspar swear was always funny to Jordan. It sounded less than natural, but not exactly stilted, and combined with the Australian slang, he found it strangely adorable. He didn't seem to notice any embarrassment coming from his friend as he shrugged, watching the fire that Caspar had set up. "Depends on what you count. First place I ever went camping was in this place where in the winter we only had four hours of sunlight, and I shit you not, I went dogsledding more than once." There were few fond memories of the Yukon in Jordan's mind, but camping was some of them. "In the summer, there was all but four hours of sunlight, and that's when we went camping. When it was hard to sleep and we'd end up sleeping anyway because we were all sticky and tired from hiking all day." He smiled to himself, then looked down. "And then, where I'm... I guess from now, like, where home actually is. That's way more forest, way easier to deal with. It's in the Pacific Northwest. Got the whole temperate rainforest vibe, bears and cougars and shit. The West Coast Trail and the like. Trees bigger than you can probably imagine, half the firewood is wet." Jordan shrugged once again, feeling rather exhausted from talking so much. "What about you? How's it camping in Australia?"

Caspar listened to Jordan's answer and shifted his gaze from him to the fire and back again. "Wait, wait, dogsledding?" His interest was caught by the mere unexpectedness of it, or maybe it was only unexpected because Caspar hadn't seen snow until he came to camp. "Like that one cartoon feature where the wolf-dog saves the sick children?" He asked but then chuckled. "I love that. I didn't think people really did that. I think that's so interesting," He commented and continued on with his trailing spoken thoughts. "The vast differences in the places around the world are so..." He tried to think of the right word but he doubted he got the right one. "Astounding?" Cas shrugged. "I personally would love to see those giant trees. I bet they're nothing like I've seen," He said. "Aussieland's cool because there's... I guess you'd call them jungles? It's not wet like the Pacific Northwest. You can find firewood easily and there's so many places to walk and explore, but you gotta look where you're walking." He described.

Jordan couldn’t help but groan when Caspar mentioned the animated movie that had been etched into his memory. “Fuck off,” he snickered, shaking his head. “Yeah, just like fucking Balto.” He rested his elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand, looking at and actually listening to Caspar as he continued to speak. “Yeah. You and me could wrap around either side of some of them and have trouble holding hands on the other side.” Jordan hummed, trying to imagine a hot jungle, but just kept imagining clips from Jumanji. “Because of wildlife? Or flora? Or both?”

Caspar watched as Jordan reacted to Balto being brought up and he giggled mostly because it wasn't expected. He then leaned back and his mind began trying to visualize how big the tree would really have to be. When it got to the point where he couldn't fathom the width any longer, he reached his arm over so he could give Crinitus a few good scratches. "Oh, uh, both? There's trails back home with different rankings that're supposed to let you know how rough it's going to be. Some are rocky, some are covered in roots or vines," Cas responded and sat normally again. "There's snakes and stuff too, but if you keep an eye out as much as you can, everything's fine. If you leave them alone, they'll leave you alone..." He shrugged. "The stars must be visible all the time there during the summer though, right? I think that'd be cool, not only the stars but to live like that without sunlight."

Jordan couldn't help but smile when Caspar giggled, laughing quietly as well, happy that his amusement landed well. "I get that. Like, fuck though, I know you said the coral got you, but you ever get bitten by a snake? I feel like that shit is hardcore, especially with how much wants to kill you out in Australia." He nodded. "Oh yeah, I can kind of tell what time it is from the stars. Or... I used to. It's harder here." He shrugged and leaned forward. "It's like, you know how some people can tell time from the position of the sun in the sky? Like that. But," he said, jumping to a new subject, "you have totally different constellations, yeah? I guess you know both by now though. You know much about the myths around the ones in the southern hemisphere?"

"Nope, no snake bites," Caspar proudly announced but listened to Jordan as he talked about the stars and the sky. "I'm not the best at telling the time from the sun, but I can usually spot a constellation in no time. I'm probably better at spotting the southern ones, but I don't know. It's been awhile since I've seen them," He smiled warmly. "But, down under, I don't know if things want to kill you. There's not... psychopathic spiders out there," He snickered and began digging through his nearby pack. "But, uh, yeah, I know some myths," He focused back on Jordan and held him out a bag of marshmallows, but kept talking. "One of my favorite's is a star cluster that used to be called 'the herdsman' back in ancient times. Everyone now thinks it looks more like a kite though, so it's cool because it's adapted with the times," Caspar kept the chocolate and the crackers in his hand, although raised them to bring attention to his idea. "I can tell you more, but should we make this camping trip official?" He questioned, smiling again.

"Yeah, also using a phone or a watch works better than anything. But when you're eleven and camping, you don't really have that shit." Jordan tilted his head at Caspar and raised his eyebrows. "Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me there's not spiders that have been premeditating my murder? Bullshit. They have eight legs for a reason. Six of those hands can hold guns and they can still walk. I know they're up to something." He grinned, clearly amusing himself as he eyed the marshmallows in Caspar's hand. "It's pretty cool how shit like that develops, yeah. It's like language and sayings that we have no idea where they come from." He sat up a bit straighter and stood. "Absolutely. I'll grab us some sticks. Keep telling me about the herdsman though, unless that was it," he said over his shoulder as he walked to snap a few sticks off of a nearby tree. "Sure hope this isn't a dryad."

Caspar chuckled at the mental image of a big spider holding guns while walking around at the same time. "Those little sayings are called idioms," He casually mentioned and then opened the bag of marshmallows. He left the fetching of the sticks to Jordan. He glanced at Jordan and chuckled again. "I think a dryad might let you know, if that's the case," Caspar set up two graham crackers and put chocolate on both. "But, um, the herdsman has a supergiant star that helps make up it's constellation. It's the fourth brightest star in the whole sky and it's an orange-red color." Cas described more about the topic of astronomy.

Jordan nodded. “I’m a fan of them. I think what I like best are malaphors, though.” He pulled out a pocket knife as he returned to sit down next to Caspar again, whittling away at the sticks so that they would be pointy enough to stick into the marshmallows. “That’s when you take two idioms and smash ‘em together. Like, ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it’ or...” He held out one of the sticks to Caspar, then chuckled. “A bear in a glass house is worth two in the woods.” He nodded. “Fuck, that’s cool as hell. I’ve never been big into space, but the fucking vastness of it all is crazy. Like how half of those stars are burnt out, but we’re so far away we can still see them. That sort of shit fucks with my head, you know?”

"Those are ace," Caspar giggled at the malaphors that Jordan had prattled of. "You’ve opened this can of worms, now lie in it," He added his own with a proud little smile. His eyes then twinkled as he remembered something else that had seemed interesting about space and pertinent to the conversation as well. "They actually just discovered a new galaxy not too long ago, I think last year some time? But it's bloody far away from us and kind of hard to see because of space dust but they've got the tech nowadays," Cas said. "It definitely fucks with my head, but in a good way. I like contemplating different stuff though, I guess."

Jordan grinned, his own eyes glinting as Caspar added one of his own and he chuckled along. “Looks like malaphors are our piece of cake.” He nodded as he listened to Caspar and took one of the marshmallows to skewer on his stick. “Is it visible with the naked eye? Probably not, if it’s that far, especially with how much light pollution there is now. Have you ever listened to those things that are like ‘what the planets sound like’? There’s something going on with Jupiter that is just fucking nuts, man.” He shook his head and tilted his marshmallow towards the fire, sitting far enough away that he could barely feel the heat against his legs with his pants. “You seem thoughtful a lot of the time.” He smiled, watching Crinitus chew on a stick beside him. “Can call it spacey, if we ignore the negative connotations.” He leaned back a bit, but kept his marshmallow forward. “I was thinking about taking an astronomy class next semester for my science cred. I always really liked physics and shit like that, but I don’t know if I can be bothered to deal with quite that much work with all my other classes.”

Caspar shook his head to silently answer Jordan about the newfound galaxy being visible to the naked eye. He smiled while he did so because he simply enjoyed listening to his friend speak. He took the other stick Jordan had sharpened and skewered himself a marshmallow. Cas began letting it hover over the flames. "I like spacey, we can defo ignore the negative connotations. Tai actually calls me Cosmo a lot, so its kind of a perfect fit," He casually expressed as he watched his treat with intention. "I think that class'd be a beauty. I would help you if you really did end up wanting to take it. I wouldn't want you to overload yourself though," He shrugged after his offer, Cas was still smiling, and looked over at Crinitus. "—He's being such a good boy." He spoke as his trailing of thoughts shifted to the the dog for the moment.

Jordan rotated his marshmallow slowly, though it was too far from the fire to start browning yet. "Yeah, I thought that was pretty clever, actually. Very aussie of you guys." He smiled at Caspar. "That'd be ace." He squinted, unsure if the word felt right in his mouth. "I don't think it'd be too much of an overload. I hear the prof is pretty good, and we get to take trips out to an observatory." He pressed his lips together as he thought about something. "If we wanted to, we could probably look into making a trip up there, where the light pollution is less bad. Me you and Tai could all chill out and look at the stars up close." He glanced back over at his dog and smirked, shaking his head. "He's kind of an idiot, but he listens pretty well." He leaned back and grabbed his jacket from where it was sitting behind him, and pulled out a bag of jerky that made Crinitus's ears shoot up, his attention now on Jordan. He looked at Caspar and held out the bag to him. "Wanna give him a treat?"

"Ace?" Caspar repeated and lightly chuckled. "You're sounding more and more like a true blue Aussie bloke every day," He teased and bumped shoulders with Jordan, but made sure it wasn't too hard because of the fact they both were still roasting their treats. The idea that his friend had posed about taking a trip out to an observatory was too good to pass up. "I would love to do that... And with the two of you? I think that'd be a fantastic idea," He chimed back, fully agreeing to the proposition, but his eyes were on the bag of jerky. "—Oh, yeah, can I?" He asked with an excited expression but took the bag from Jordan as it was offered. "Crinitus," Cas called out even though it was redundant because the dog's attention had already been caught. Managing poorly to juggle his marshmallow stick, he opened the bag and picked out a piece. Caspar tossed it to the dog. "I think he deserved it," He confirmed to Jordan with a pleased smile. It lasted only a second longer because he then realized his marshmallow had caught fire. Caspar dropped the bag of jerky so he could tend to it before it got too burnt. He laughed as he attempted to blow out the fire and when it was done successfully, he began inspecting it. "Ah, what a fool I am." He joked regarding the state of his marshmallow.

Jordan nudged Caspar’s ankle with his foot as Caspar bumped him, keeping his stick in place as he rocked from one side to the other, an almost shy smile making its way to his face. “Shut up.” He laughed, ducking his head. “Catch me never fuckin’ saying that shit again.” He turned his stick slowly again, smiling to himself and not looking directly at his friend. “We can go some clear night or whatever, I can figure out the deets.” He reached over to grab a piece of jerky himself, smiling at how pleased his dog seemed from the snack. His eyes grew wide at the sight of Caspar’s marshmallow catching fire, and let out a small breath of relief when it was put out, pulling his own stick closer to prevent the same scenario from happening to him. He snickered at Caspar calling himself a fool. “Absolute buffoon.” He smiled, then held out his own marshmallow towards his friend. “Uh, we can switch if you want. I don’t mind burnt food,” he lied.

Caspar laughed and didn't take the other's words too hard and, when the marshmallow was not on fire any longer, he smiled over at Jordan. He realized Jordan was offering his own marshmallow and shook his head. "Oh, no, no, I can eat it. No worries," He assured him. "It's just a little bit more done than I try and go for, but I don't mind either. There's a fine line when roasting 'mallows." He said and began putting the rest of his treat together. When it was done, he took a bite and gave Jordan the 'ok' sign with his fingers and smiled with a closed mouth as he chewed.

Jordan smiled, happy that he didn’t actually have to trade marshmallows with Caspar. He’d regretted the offer as soon as he made it, but it wasn’t the type of thing he would have gone back on.  “Dope, I’m sure it’ll taste fine with everything else anyway.” He rested the stick between his knees and pulled the outside of the marshmallow off, stuffed the chocolate inside, and then put the graham crackers around that. He held it up to Caspar. “Mess-free s’more,” he explained before he took a bite.

"Whoa, you're a genius," Caspar pointed out as he observed how his friend put together his s'more. "Where'd you learn that?" He smiled, curiously as he began to eat his much more messy s'more than Jordy's. "Or did you just figure it out on the spot?" He chuckled.

Jordan brightened at the praise, and sat up a bit straighter. He took a bite of his s’more and spoke around it, holding a hand in front of his mouth. “My sister actually made it up. I was kinda fine with getting all sticky, but for some reason it seemed to bother her.” He laughed. “But she’s not here so maybe I should take the credit for being smart as hell.”

"Crikey, I'll totally give you the credit," Caspar said while finishing up his s'more. "I'll pretend I didn't hear anything but you being wicked smart..." He assured the other and, with eyes on Jordan, a smile grew warmer and wider on the pale boy's soft expression. "I want to know you more, Jordy," He commented; turning more to face the other. "Can I ask what your relationship with your sister's like...?" Caspar asked then immediately realized something. He exhaled although he barely let his content features falter. "—Sorry, I kind of assumed you weren't talking about sisters here, right?" He asked to confirm.

Jordan smiled at the compliment, dropping his hand since he wasn't eating and speaking at the same time. The sincerity of Caspar's next statement made Jordan shift slightly, turning his gaze to his dog once more in an unconscious effort not to make too much contact, though he did have to admit that such a comment was pretty funny next to what he found to be a rather ridiculous nickname. He raised his shoulders in a shrug. "Uh, yeah, not..." Jordan didn't always know what to call his relatives at camp, he supposed that someone else calling them sisters was fine, because when you got down to schematics, that's technically what they were. "Yeah, I... I dunno, I know everyone here except me is real close with their half-siblings at camp, but..." He shrugged, rubbing the side of his neck with one hand. "I don't know, me and my sister, like, my actual sister, we've been through a lot together, and I feel like counting these people that my godly parent who I haven't even met happened to also parent is... I don't know, it feels like it discounts things." He stretched his legs out in front of him and sighed, though it was somewhat of a groan. "Ugh, that wasn't even the question." He felt stupid, feeling the need to explain himself when he wasn't even being confronted, and turned his face away from Caspar. "We're close. Less now than we were, since we're... physically far, but she's one of my favourite people." His skin crawled as he thought about how vulnerable he felt, and he put the s'more down on his knee so he could pick up the sick again and dig it into the ground. "You don't have any siblings, right? Excepting your camp ones. That why you guys get along so well?"

Caspar understood what Jordan was talking about. He felt the need to assure his friend that his point of view was valued, especially after he heard him groan, but remained silent as to let him finish with all of his thoughts. When Caspar was posed with questions to answer, he smiled warmly under the crackling hues of the amber-colored fire. "Oh, no, I actually have two brothers, and a sister back home in Brissy, too," He shrugged, realizing he never revealed that information earlier. "They're all cool in their own way, I guess, but... I always felt like the odd one out around them?" With his hands free again, he dusted them off and cleared his throat. "With, um, the way you explain it, uh, makes sense..." Caspar expressed. "I was adopted so there's another reason why I felt like a black sheep," He casually added. "But I learned family's what you make of it. So, uh, we're obviously not exactly the same... But, in a way, your situation and my situation is flipped, yeah?" He observed. "I get along better with my family, or whatever, here and it's just not the same with you and I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of, you know? We're like puzzles pieces, we only fit in where we fit in." He said.

Jordan stole glances up at Caspar as he spoke, not wanting to seem like he was too interested in what the other boy was saying, though he was. He wiggled the stick into the ground and let go of it, leaning his hands back on the log as he gave Caspar a small smile. "Hard to think of you as the black anything," he quipped quietly, but let him continue. He twisted his finger around a piece of hair as he nodded at his friend, then looked down at the stick again, afraid that he was looking too long, or that Caspar might look back at him processing how well he could relate to his words. He felt somewhat bare, as though Caspar really was getting to know some part of him, and he didn't know exactly how he felt about it, but he could definitely tell that it wasn't all bad. "Yeah, that makes sense." He felt rather inarticulate after the speech, but didn't mind too much; not everyone could be a poet. "We're mirrors." He smirked a bit. "And that's not to say that I don't care about the people in my cabin. I think... I dunno, they're all my friends. It's just different, yeah." He rolled his neck. "But anyway, enough delving into my inner psyche. What about knowing you? Tell me something I don't know."

Caspar could empathize with the uncertain feeling that came with getting closer with another but, in this setting, he wasn't all that uncomfortable. He smiled at the comment about being mirrors. "Mirrors, I like that," Caspar expressed and then nodded. "And, I get it," He added with reassurance once again. He then chuckled lightly. "—But, wait, did you know my natural hair's a kind of dark brown? You can only see it in old pictures of me. I've been messing with hair colors for a long time though, and I've had tons," He described and then put more thought in regarding his past and a fact he could tell Jordan. "But, uh, let me think of something else," Caspar lightly and contently sighed. "Um, I don't know what's interesting, but I'm allergic to apricots? I believed in fairies when I was a little kid?" He offered up. "Um, sometimes when I first wake up, I think I only see in black and white? The colors come back right away but for a second, I swear." He chuckled again and shrugged.

Jordan pressed his fingers into the log, feeling the grooves as he continued to listen to Caspar. "When'd you start dyeing it?" He felt weird thinking about Caspar with dark hair; and though it was fairly obvious that his natural hair colour wasn't stark white, it felt like it suited his friend more. "Just apricots? How'd you find that one out?" He smiled. "I'm surprised you don't still believe in fairies. They seem like your vibe. And we know that monsters and shit are real, so why not?" The last fact made Jordan's eyebrows shoot up excitedly, and he reached out to rest a hand on his dog's head when he rested his head on his leg. "Does that fit into you seeing auras? Do you dream in colour?"

"I dream in black and white very rarely but, when I'm dreamscaping and in control, I try to make them all as colourful as can be. Although, I'm not sure if the lack of it when I wake is related to the whole aura thing..." Caspar explained to his friend. "It's an interesting concept to think about, it probably is related," He responded while endearingly watching Crinitus show affection to his owner. "I'm not sure exactly when I started with my hair either, uh... Maybe a year before I came to camp?" He thought aloud. "It was bloody impulsive when I chose to change it all, but ended up just sticking with it, so," With a proud little smile, Caspar's train of thought quickly shifted from colors to the next topic he wanted to reply to. "—Oh, by the way, my experience with apricot was only my worst reaction," He casually clarified. "I'll swell up and get hives if I eat certain types of nuts, kiwi, or peaches too. And, actually, a breakfast parfait got me officially diagnosed," He explained with a small shrug and pressed his palms down onto the log as well. He looked up at the stars now and leaned back slightly to do so. "Also, I think there's a part of me that still might believe in fairies, if I'm being fully transparent. There are stranger things in our lives, I agree..." Caspar then hesitated for a moment but eventually spoke again yet softer this time. "If you get tired, will you tell me?" He asked.

"I think it'd be kinda fucked up to dream in black and white. But, I guess I could do that and just not really remember. Colours aren't what I remember from my dreams. It's cool if it is connected to your aura thing. Kind of hard to see if it does though, I imagine that's hard as fuck to research." He glanced at Caspar once more. "I like the white. I think it suits you. Like a blank canvas." After a pause, he added, "or some shit" to sound less like he was waxing poetic. "A breakfast parfait?" Jordan asked incredulously, laughing. "Dude, you're telling me yogurt almost had you kick the bucket? Incredible. I would love for that to be listed as my cause of death, honestly." He nodded in agreement to the sentiment that there were things much stranger than fairies. "I dunno, why can't people with wings exist if I can just be..." He motioned indistinctly to the woods but didn't actually teleport, far too comfortable to. After Caspar spoke, he exhaled a small laugh, smiling at his friend. "I'm always tired." He didn't look away, instead resting his cheek against his own shoulder. "But yeah, I will. Same for you?"

"There's certain books on auras and such but it's hard to sift through what's real and what's just been guessed by the author," Caspar summarized but then readily blushed upon hearing Jordan's compliment regarding his bleached white hair. He tried hard not to react any further and let the conversation continue. "Crikey, not the actual yogurt," He chuckled, shaking his head but finding his friend very amusing. "Just the nuts and fruit and stuff," He clarified but was smiling nonetheless (especially as he watched Jordan rest his cheek against his own shoulder). "I'm always tired too," Caspar agreed and scooted closer to Jordan. "We can go lay down soon?" He suggested and had realized that he was probably done with snacking on s'mores for tonight anyways. He pulled his sleeves down over his hands. "You can also use my shoulder instead if you want, until then? I don't mind..." Caspar gently offered as the untended fire seemed to not be as bright as it once had.

"Yeah, I guess it's hard to do hard research on shit like that. Like dream interpretation. Not like there's a lot of hard science in what I do," Jordan said with a shrug of the shoulder he wasn't leaning on. "I'm gonna keep saying yogurt, I think, sounds funnier." He grinned impishly at his friend, then picked up the s'more resting on his knee to toss into the fire so that his dog wouldn't end up eating it. At Caspar's suggestion, he picked at a thread in his jeans, then scooted slightly closer, trying not to move too much as to not disturb a half-asleep Crinitus. "If you want, I can snuff out the fire, and then we can watch the stars like we planned to." He tipped his head to the side and rested against Caspar's shoulder, looking out at the woods. "And if you want, we can form a chain here. Since I'm on you and Crinitus is on me, you can get a dog pillow," he joked with a small smile.

"You need a Teleportation 101 class," Caspar snickered to himself at his silly little joke. He then playfully rolled his eyes at Jordan after hearing his comment regarding the yogurt. His expression was somehow still soft even as he rolled his eyes. He felt good in the moment his friend rested their head on his shoulder but, then again it always felt this way being there for someone. He tried to maneuver himself to get a look at a sleeping Crinitus by Jordan's feet and was pleased by the sight. "That's probably how it's going to be in the tent tonight..." He responded. "A cuddle pile, if you will," He commented "...And, I do still want to look at the stars, but we can do that whenever you're ready to put out the fire. I can wait, but I don't want us to get too tired beforehand." He explained.

"Hey." Despite trying to sound annoyed, Jordan's tone was much more amused than anything. "I'm at least in the 200s level, cut me some slack." He raised his head as Caspar moved, as well as to look at the fire. "Are you someone who just latches on to the nearest thing when you sleep? Or are you a starfish?" He raised his arms and cracked his knuckles, then wiggled his fingers in front of him, muttering a low incantation. Crinitus lifted his head to watch as the fire smoldered and went out, leaving a trail of smoke curling into the sky. "Alright, boy with white hair, tell me which planets are making me sad."

"Sorry, sorry," Caspar apologized for the silly '101' comment and bashfully ducked his head especially while Jordan raised his up once again. "I am usually one who clings to whatever's near," He smiled. "So if that makes me a starfish?" He rubbed his knees with his palms and then slightly shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I am one, watch out for my tube feet," He joked with a tone of voice where it was clear he was already becoming tired. Caspar wiggled his fingers along with Jordan in reference to their past conversation but eventually dropped his hands again. He shifted his eyes up to the stars in the night sky. He was smiling more-so now at the little nickname. "-Hm, well, you're an Aries, right? That means Mars rules you, it represents the beginning of all beginnings... It is our first breath and our first scream, being the one responsible for the body we have and the, um, incarnation we are in at the moment..." Caspar looked back at Jordan to make sure he really wanted to know this kind of stuff. "Uh, it's associated with karma and instinct, but I think it's really just an unconscious animalistic nature we don’t give enough freedom to..." He cleared his throat and quickly looked back at the stars. "I'd have to know more of your birth chart to tell you more."

Jordan laughed at the tube-feet comment and wiggled his fingers back at Caspar. “Oh my god.” He shook his head and looked up at the sky as his friend began describing what his sign meant, eyes flicking back to him after a moment. “First breath and first scream? Dude, that’s metal as fuck.” He laughed. “Animalistic nature. Dunno if that’s my deal, but the sound of it is cool.” He pressed his palms into the log and looked back to the sky. “Kendall knows my birth chart. Made me literally call my mom and find out what time I was born.”

"Oh... Yeah, I guess it is," Caspar chuckled a little embarrassed by how he had explained Aries energy. "But I meant more like, uh... Acting on impulse and doing what you want without abandon, not, um, running through the woods on your hands and knees or something silly," His palms had already been pressed down onto the log as well and he stole a quick glance of Jordan here and there as they sat and watched the stars. "That's what I would've had you done too," He smiled softly. "I can probably reach out to her to get a look at it? So I can tell you more of my, uh, interpretations?" Caspar suggested. "Unless you feel like she's covered it all with you already. If so, that's okay too..." He covered his bases in his reply then yawned but remained stargazing.

Jordan laughed at the idea of them running around the woods on all fours and moved so that he was resting on his elbows instead of his hands, more reclined as he watched the sky through the trees. “Yeah, you’ll have to find her for that. I don’t really remember any of it. I think she mentioned pretty much every sign at some point, and I don’t really prescribe to Greek zodiac and myth too much, so I didn’t retain much.” He looked at Caspar. “It’d be cool to get your take on it, though. But what made you so into Greek constellations when you were born in a place where you didn’t even see them? Unless you only started studying them here.”

"Okay, yeah, that's perfect. I'm excited to get a look at your chart," Caspar confessed and happily continued on in response. "I'll try and make it exciting for you to learn about," He explained with assurance and then shrugged because he wasn't sure of how to answer to the question that had been asked. "...Oh, uh, hmm,I guess that I was into them because I knew I was a demigod since I was young? I always have been in love with the stars too. Greek constellations came easier to me and I had already learned all the ones down in the southern hemisphere," He shrugged. "The cosmos are a constant in my life."

Jordan exhaled something that could be interpreted as a laugh. “Learning is always exciting.” He was serious about the sentiment; not entirely sure that the subject was up his alley, but willing to hear Caspar out. “Oh,” he said as he tilted his head to look at his friend. “Fuck, forgot some people just knew that shit. I didn’t know until I got here, and I was still pretty sure I was making the whole thing up or something.” He shrugged one shoulder and looked back up at the sky, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned. “That’s fucking sick. To be into something all the way from when you were young.” He let out a small “oof” as his dog put his head down on his stomach, and reached down to pat him as he yawned again. “Maybe... bedtime soon. But you can keep telling me about the sky. I promise I’m still listening.” The words seemed too sincere to leave it there, so he continued. “Maybe just slow down if you hear snoring.”

"I like that about you. You have an open-mind," Caspar complimented and sent a tired little smile over Jordan's way through the firelight. "Imagine all those feelings, but not being able to do anything about them. I couldn't get away from my family until I just turned sixteen? But I knew I was destined to come here as soon as I heard about camp... And, it wasn't getting safe in Aussieland, so, it was defo complicated all around," He shrugged as he explained a little bit more about his past and, maybe only because Jordan did, but Caspar yawned as well. He nodded before he could speak. "Yeah... I think that's a good idea. We can go lay down right now?" He stood and rubbed his eye.

Jordan exhaled a small laugh at Caspar’s observational compliment. He could his friend smiling at him from the corner of his eye, but kept his gaze trained upwards as he listened to him continue to speak. “I... can imagine.” His own perspective was much different, but he didn’t offer it, since it felt less like relating to Caspar and more like telling his own story. He finally tilted his head to the side to look back at Caspar and gave him a small smile as well. “It’s nice you had somewhere to escape to.” He followed his friend, pushing his dog’s head from his stomach so that he could stand as well, and stepped far enough back so that he felt comfortable enough to extinguish the fire. As he pressed his hands together and mumbled, it glowed bright for a moment, then smoldered, and Jordan picked up a water bottle to toss over it and put it out fully. He yawned and stretched, his back cracking as he did, and nodded at Caspar. “Crinitus doesn’t normally get to sleep with people, so he’s gonna fuckin' flip.”

Caspar moved away from the fire as well and, for the most part, let Jordan handle extinguishing the flames. He watched with tired eyes and, when it was fully out, turned to go over to the tent. "Awe, I'm glad then," He responded and the thought of falling asleep with a dog instead of several white cats made him chuckle lightly. He unzipped the entrance and climbed inside. He got all comfortable and knowing that he was going to get to dream only seemed to make him feel more tired. "Hm... I think..." He mused and, even though he had only gotten horizontal moments before, his eyes were heavy. "That today was a good day...." He managed to say before closing his eyes. For a little bit longer, he tried responding but it mostly came out as non-verbal little hums. After seemingly falling asleep, it only took a few moments before Caspar naturally nudged closer. Along with Crinitus, they cuddled up to Jordan in a warm little pile and that night Caspar dreamed of tide pools.

[ask-marcus-cally-and-ari]

Only Human

Chapter 9: Breather

As the van made its way through the forest, Marcus asked, “So what’s your deal?” 

“Doctor kidnapped me and a Sniper, cut us up, then put my head on the Snipers body,” Spyper shrugged. “I’ve been stuck as a hybrid ever since.”

Marcus winced. “Oh… wow. Uh. That sucks. What happened to the other head and body?” 

“The Medic made another hybrid. Sny. Me and him are good friends, although it does get kinda weird at times since...Y’know, he has my body. And we both have this weird tick where we’ll switch into the other's voice for a moment,” Spyper replied, gesturing to his neck. 

“Oh. What does that even feel like?” 

“Uh… It's hard to explain. Have you ever had sleep paralysis? Where you know you’re awake and you’re aware of what's going on, but you can’t do anything about it?” 

Ari nodded. “I know what that is.” 

“It’s kinda like that. My brain gets paralyzed for a moment and I can’t do anything when that tick starts going, even though I know it's happening.” 

Marcus winced. “That must suck.” Briefly, the teen looked up at the van ceiling, hand on his gun. 

“You okay, kid?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Bad experience with things above me.” Marcus relaxed upon seeing nothing on the ceiling. “You understand, right?” 

“Yeah, I understand. I once fought Brutal myself.”

“Oh, wow!” Ari beamed. “Did you win?” 

“I did. Cut his head right off,” Spyper chuckled, punctuating his words by sharply jerking his hand across his throat. 

Ari whimpered, suddenly very pale- and far less excited. 

“Hey, he was terrorizing a team, and I just happened to drop by,” Spyper shrugged. 

Marcus leaned over. “Real talk, man,” he whispered, “Please try not to go into detail with stuff like that. Ari… isn’t that kind of person.” 

“Oh, sorry. It’s not often I meet people who are faint of heart. Y’know, I hang around Freaks all day. ‘Faint of heart’ isn’t exactly common with us.” 

"That's obvious," Cally responded dryly. 

“Jester and Pure fit the bill, though,” Spyper added, glancing back at Ari and Cally. “Well, not so much Pure.” 

"Who?"

“Christian Pure Spy. He’s a priest that lives nearby.” 

“Who’s he running with as far as other Freaks?” Marcus asked. 

“He’s friends with me Intelligent, and looks after Chaos Kin and Jester. He’s also friends with Polite Spy...But uh...That’s about as far as his good connections go,” Spyper said awkwardly. 

“So he’s a good guy?” Ari asked. 

“By himself? Yes. But he has some… questionable friends outside of the ones I listed.” 

“Define questionable, please,” Cally requested. 

“He’s friends with Christian Brutal Sniper and Gentlespy,” Intelligent answered, looking up from the chessboard.

Marcus twitched, then sighed. “Yeah, let’s stay our @sses away from there.” 

“Yeah, good idea,” Ari winced. 

“What about that Jester person you keep mentioning?” Cally asked.

“Count Jester is their full name. They’re on the more lighthearted side of Freaks,” Spyper replied, clearing his throat. 

“Friends?” 

“Me, Intelligent, Chaos, Pure, Pancakes...A whole bunch of people, actually.”

“Who’s Chaos?” Ari asked. “Good guy?” 

“Chaos Kin? Yeah, she’s a good guy. A bit aggressive, but that’s really only towards people she doesn’t like.” 

“Can we trust her?” 

“Against Freaks like Brutal? Yeah, you can trust her,” Intelligent said. “She’s helped several good Freaks since becoming a Freak herself. She’s helped Medizard, Dr. Dum and Mr. Dan, SomeCleanTrash, Weaselcake, Bellatrix…” Intelligent listed off a handful of different Freaks. “If you asked her, she’d probably help you.” 

“How many Freaks can we trust?” Cally asked. “And is there a database for you guys?” 

“There is, but HECU are the ones who maintain it, and are the only people who can access it,” Spyper replied. 

Cally raised an eyebrow and pulled out her laptop. “Let’s fix that, shall we?” 

“Like you can get through HECU’s firewalls-” 

“I just did. Marcus, Ari. Check this out.” 

Marcus snickered at the look on Spyper’s face. “Impressed?” 

“How did you get past their firewalls!?” Spyper spluttered. 

“With my laptop. Alright, let’s see here...” 

“All you have is a laptop, and aren’t you 17? How on Earth did you get past the firewalls of such a heavily guarded agency?” Intelligent implored, taken aback. 

“The only reason whoever sent Christian Brutal Sniper and Gentlespy found me is because I got past the firewalls guarding the plan to cause basically the end of the world as we know it.” 

“How you got these skills, I will never understand.” 

“My parents used to refuse to feed me if I forgot to do something or didn’t do a good enough job. I had to make money somehow. Ethical hacking was a good way to do it.” 

Ari whined upon hearing this. “They what?” 

Intelligent and Spyper gave each other pale and mortified looks. 

“What?” Cally asked, tilting her head. 

“That is so beyond not ok,” Spyper grimaced. 

“Got me the hacking skills I’m probably gonna need.” 

“Jester has their work cut out with you,” Spyper sighed turning back to the road. 

Cally shrugged and went back to the laptop. 

** 

Rudra was bowed over her desk, hunched over her computer and rigorously scrubbing through every piece of footage of the three teens she could get her hands on. First was the viral video of them fleeing Brutal, then there was a series of videos from the motel they had stayed at, and finally, a very short clip of them fleeing that very motel at night. It wasn’t much, but visuals on the teens could at least help her agents pinpoint the exact people they were looking for. And this combined with the knowledge they already had would make the process of searching for and identifying these three when found all the easier. 

A knock at her door, along with a soft white glow, interrupted her process. 

Rudra sighed heavily and sat back in her chair. “I knew you’d show up eventually.” 

“I was given a tip that the Heart, the Brain, and the Body had awakened, so I came to talk to you.” A black woman in a white robe stepped in. “What can you tell me about them?” 

“All three of them are teenagers. Barely out of high school,” Rudra replied dryly.

The woman, who had been sipping a drink, choked on it. “What?!” 

“I was just as shocked as you are. Why do you think my agents are running around like mad trying to find them?” 

“This is preposterous! They were supposed to select ideal hosts!” 

“Well, I guess they took that a bit too literally. From what I can tell, instead of picking people who already possess the qualities the powers are best suited to, the powers decided to build ideal hosts from the ground up by literally joining with them in the womb,” Rudra sighed, rubbing her temples. “I mean, why else would the powers decide to join with literal children?” 

The woman put her head in her hands. “This is not how it was supposed to go!” 

“Was there no way to ensure the powers would go to people who already possessed the qualities they needed, Mercy?” Rudra implored. “Was there no way to ensure they wouldn’t go such an extreme route?” 

“Had I thought that this option was on the table, I would have forbidden it.” 

“And now three kids are stuck with having to save the world,” Rudra sighed incredulously. 

“Oh, bother. Do they at least show promise?” 

“They do. From the security footage we pulled from the motel they stayed at, we can see their powers activating. Most notably with Ari, the bearer of the Heart.” Rudra pulled up the video feed and turned the computer monitor towards Mercy. 

“Hmm. Ari did not take the negative emotion well. They’re tender-hearted, aren’t they?” 

“Seems like it. They’re an empath. Ari wears their heart on their sleeve. Literally. Look where the Heart’s mark showed up.” Rudra pulled up the feed from Brutals confrontation with the teens and showed it to Mercy. 

“The girl with the Brain. She has not used her powers yet.” 

“No, but she has already demonstrated intellect indicative of the Brain. She managed to get past the firewall that kept outsiders away from the plan to convert the Earth's population into Freaks. Her breaking down the firewall is actually how they even got into this mess.” 

“Given how I overheard a few members of your cybersecurity team panicking on my way here, I believe that’s not the only firewall she got past.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Apparently, within five minutes of the first breach, an attacker broke into your system and downloaded your Freak database before leaving the system. Your team is still trying to figure out what happened.” 

Rudra exhaled sharply and held her head in her hands, going silent. “I didn’t fight a war just to be saddled with this sh@t,” She groaned. 

“I didn’t get cut in half to handle this either.” Mercy sighed. “I understand why she did it, though. The Brain’s purpose is to gather information and utilize it correctly. Information concerning what she and the other two are up against would be a great help.” 

“My question is: Why didn’t they come to us for the information? HECU literally builds itself on protecting people from Freaks, why wouldn’t HECU be their first option as far as refuge goes?” 

“Perhaps paranoia. Given their situation, paranoia is perfectly justified,” Mercy pointed out. “I recall attacking you and the Legion at some point the first time you visited my hideout over paranoia.” 

“And the fact that I was at the forefront of the army should have tipped you in that we were not there to fight,” Rudra sighed, dragging her hands across her face in exasperation. 

“You have never liked me. Besides, it had been a long thousand years. Paranoia was justified given the situation. Speaking of new situations, how are the wife and daughter? Did she like the sword staff?” 

Rudra jerked her head up. “...Sword staff? I don’t even own a sword staff. Mercy, what did you do?” 

“I gave her a present. And trained her on safe handling. You knew the possibility existed when you asked me to babysit.” 

“I expect this from Hero, not you,” Rudra groaned. 

“We both know I have an affinity for bladed weapons.” Mercy looked around. “Does the bearer of the Body share that affinity?” 

“No. The only weapon we’ve seen him wield is a handgun he carries.” 

“Oh. Is he good with it?” 

“He is. And he’s cunning. He faked being shot to get Brutal to lower his guard, then shot him in the heart.” 

Mercy grinned. “Impressive,” she mused. “Mankind might actually have a chance.” 

“Now if only the powers didn’t choose a bunch of kids to be humanity’s saving grace,” Rudra groused. 

“Indeed. Or, as you mentioned being possible, create them,” Mercy sighed. “I certainly hope it never enters their heads that they are weapons if that’s the case.” 

“No. The last thing these kids need is to act like they’re weapons and nothing more. That’ll do more damage than it’ll help.” 

“I am aware. Especially the empath. When I think about it, perhaps the power to take on others’ emotions was not a good idea to give them without them first learning to control it.” 

“You think?” 

“I would have prepared for that had I known it would happen,” groaned Mercy.  “As it stands, I will keep close tabs on them. I suggest you do the same.” 

** 

In Spyper's van, the Trio was reading over the database. “So, Spyper, you have a clone or something? Or just someone created the same way? What is RED Spyper to you?” 

“An enemy. I’m pretty sure the doctor who made me created him too as a form of spite,” Spyper groused, scowling heavily. “He’s basically my evil counterpart. A doppelganger, kind of.”

“An evil twin? Like on TV?” Ari asked. 

“Eh...I guess.”

“Cool!” 

“Cool to you. Not to me! That Spyper’s been a pain in my a$$ for years!” 

“Oh. That’s bad.” 

Marcus glanced at Cally, who was staring at the screen, tattoo and eyes glowing pink, face void of emotion. “Uh… Cal? What’s going on?” 

“Is something wrong back there?” Spyper asked, looking over his seat. 

“Cal?” Ari whined. “Cal, cut it out! Say something!” 

No luck. Cally gave a noise akin to a computer hum. 

“Hey, hey! Kid, come on, snap out of it!” Intelligent urged, shaking Cally by the shoulder. 

Cally didn’t reply; she locked eyes with Intelligent, keeping at least one hand on the laptop. 

“Kid? Kid, can you hear me?” Intelligent implored, growing increasingly worried by Cally’s continued silence. 

Cally’s eyes shone, glowing pink voids, hungry for… something. And then, in an instant, the light fell away, replaced with the soft brown eyes she had normally. “Ugh,” she groaned, “my head.” 

“Cal? Are you ok?” Ari exclaimed, climbing to Cally’s side. 

“I- huh? What happened?” 

“You blacked out, Cal,” Marcus replied, crossing his arms. 

“Oh… crap,” Cally groaned. “Good to know. We need to get help.”

“And that’s exactly where we’re going. I’m bringing you three to HECU. In the meantime, you three should probably get some rest. It’s a long trip there,” Spyper said.

[parkerspicedlatte]

Disconnected-Chapter Two (Luke Hemmings)

Summary: In an alternate universe where everyone has a soulmate, Luke and his soulmate share the rarest of them all. Some people have matching tattoos, others feel each others pain/emotions, but mental connections are the least common. The connection that Luke and Lynn share is that they can hear whatever song the other is singing. When they are close together they will be able to hear each others voices but for the meantime, they can only hear the recorded versions.

Pairings: Luke Hemmings x Lynn Corby (OC)

Warnings: A few swears. That’s it.

Content: somebody gets a little anxious, not straight out angst, i hate writing angst. No fluff. No smut.

Featured Songs: Bird on a Wire (Leonard Cohen/Jonny Cash), Free Falling (Tom Petty/John Mayer)

A week later, Luke was back in LA getting ready for an appointment when he heard the song again. The song was a curse to him. It wasn’t like any other song they sang, no this one was different because he only ever got little snippets of the song. Sometimes there’d be a little riff on a guitar or a bit of a chorus. He thought he was losing his mind. Why isn’t the song coming through clearly? Actually that was the reason he was in LA. Luke had made an appointment to see a specialist about his soulmate connection. He knew that the closer he got to his soulmate, the stronger the connection would be. He also knew that some people just have weaker or stronger connections than others, but he’d never heard of the connections just dropping off and picking up out of nowhere.

“So Mr. Hemmings what seems to be the problem?” Dr Browning smiled questioningly.

Luke was sitting uncomfortably in the too small, plastic chair in the pale green office two doors down from the receptionist. He was slightly regretting not bringing one of the boys with him. The young rock star felt so awkward being there by himself. Ashton would probably have said yes to coming if I’d asked him. Luke thought. Come on Luke, man up! You’re not a baby. You don’t need somebody to hold your hand at the doctors anymore. He sighed before speaking.

“Uh it’s my soulmate connection.” He mumbled not making eye contact with the doctor.

“Well then you’ve come to the right place, but could you elaborate for me exactly what seems to be wrong. You have the song connection correct?” Doctor Browning asked.

“Uh yeah, but it keeps cutting out.”

Doctor Browning frowned at Luke’s statement. “What do you mean?”

Luke took a deep breath before he started to explain. “Sometimes I can hear songs in my head but I don’t hear them all the way through. They don’t sound like normal songs. I’m only catching pieces of them, like a bit of guitar or piano and sometimes a bit of a chorus.”

The doctor jotted down the information into a keyboard attached to a desktop before he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair to look back at Luke.

“Does this happen often?” he questioned.

“More now than it used to.”

“Do you hear their voice yet or just the recorded version?”

“No I’ve never heard their voice before, only the person who has recorded the songs.”

“What about covers and acoustics?”

“No I can hear those too.” Luke said remembering the first time that he’d heard John Mayer’s voice singing Free Falling in his head instead of Tom Petty. He was never overly fond of Tom Petty so he was glad that his soulmate preferred John Mayer.

“Well besides the cutting out part, you sound like you have one of the stronger connections. Not everyone can hear covers.”

“Really?”

The Doctor chucked to himself and nodded to Luke before starting in on a short story.

“When I was studying back in my time, we were taught about a couple who had been married for many  years before the wife finally told her husband that she hated the Leonard Cohen song he would play every day. He said to her ‘Why dear I thought you loved this song. You used to sing it all the time before we met.’ Well it turns out that she was singing the Johnny Cash cover of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Bird On A Wire’ but the husband never knew because their connection was on the weaker side.” Doctor Browning explained earning a chuckle from Luke who was suddenly grateful that he didn’t have to listen to Tom Petty as often as John Mayer.  

“Well I can promise you that I can hear covers of songs. Heck I’ve even heard them singing a song that I covered when I was like sixteen.”

“Your own voice?”

“Yeah, that part gets annoying. I don’t think anybody wants to hear their own voice on repeat. It’s worse when it’s your voice as a teen you know what I mean?”

“I’d never thought of that but yes I suppose so, in your position anyways. So do you think that they know who you are?” Doctor Browning asked.

“I’m certain they do. Sometimes I find myself singing a song that I’m assuming they don’t like, and they retaliate by singing a song that I’d once said I didn’t like in an interview.” Luke sighed rubbing his temples as if that could transfer his thoughts to his soulmate’s brain to let them know how frustrated he was.

The doctor just chuckled in reply and shook his head.

“Why’s that funny?”

“Well you see Mr. Hemmings, you share one of the least common connections. It falls under the mental category making it fairly rare as is it but on top of that, you have one of the least common connections in the mental category. So people don’t have as much knowledge about what goes on between you and your soulmate as the common matching tattoo connection or others like it. I must say, I am thoroughly enjoying this dilemma you’re describing to me, I’ve never heard of anything quite like it.”

“So long story short, you can’t help me?” Luke asked looking up at the Doctor with desperate eyes.

“Well I never said that. I have had many mental connectors come through here but I have never had any complaining about connections breaking off. Why don’t you tell me a little more about the problem and if we still can’t come up with a solution, then I’ll refer you to another doctor who works a few towns over.” Doctor Browning suggested. “Whenever I can’t figure out a case I hand it over to her and she always knows the solution. She says it’s a woman’s touch or something, I don’t know.”

Luke nodded and gave the Doctor a small smile feeling a little better that he had other options if he didn’t like what this Doctor told him.

“But, you have to promise that you won’t tell anybody I sent you to her alright. I can’t have her stealing all my clients.” He teased.

“The word’s mum.” Luke told him.

“Alright then, well continue on. Do you ever find that the break offs perpetually happen at a certain time?”

“Honestly I would love to be able to say yes but I have no idea. I travel too much so the time zones change and I can’t keep up with it.”

“Alright, well from now on I would like you to keep track of whenever you have the break offs and find out what time it is in one place. You should have a clock app on your phone, use the international clocks to figure out what time it is in, let’s say LA, then see if there is a pattern every time. You never know, that may even help you figure out where they’re from.”

“That’s a good idea,” Luke tells him, mentally kicking himself for not having thought of doing that when he first started experiencing the connections. “I wish I’d thought of that sooner.”

“Okay, so we’ve eliminated the when, let’s talk about the who. Are the break offs during certain songs by certain artists?”

“Yeah, it’s always the same voice but don’t know the artist. It’s not someone I recognise.”

“Well that makes it a bit more difficult now doesn’t it?”

“You’re telling me.” Luke huffed. “I can’t even look up the little bits of lyrics I do hear because they’re never consistent.”

“Do you mean that the songs change?”

“They switch between two or three but I swear the lyrics are changing every time I hear them.”

The Doctor froze and his eyes widened, his fingers froze as well, hovering over the keyboard he had been previously typing on. Slowly he looked over at Luke in disbelief, causing Luke to panic on the inside. What the hell did I say? Did I swear? Is he not okay with swearing? I don’t think I swore.

“You mean to tell me that the lyrics of the same consistent artist that you don’t recognise are changing in your head?”

“Yeaaah? Is that weird? I mean- the whole situation’s weird but why is that part a big deal?”

Doctor Browning just sat in his seat baffled as he tried to process what Luke had told him.

“Mr. Hemmings, there is this theory, now mind you it’s just a theory and a wild one at that so please don’t get your hopes up, but it might be the solution to your problem.”

This had Luke sitting on the edge of his seat, the possibility of getting to the bottom of his soulmate situation hanging in the air. Over the past few months he had been growing more and more concerned for their well being as the songs kept cutting out more frequently. He wondered if they had fallen I’ll and were in a weak state.

“Well the theory is that if two soulmates with the song connection have a strong enough connection that they can hear when the other is writing a song. If this is true then that would explain why the lyrics keep switching on you.”

Luke’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. He couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t believe his brain! His dumb, daft brain! Why the hell did he not think of that sooner! He was a musician for Pete’s sake! Luke wrote, sang and preformed songs for a living since he was nearly seventeen years old. Why could he not have figured that out? Why didn’t he think of the possibility that they were just writing songs? That’s why he only got pieces of it, and probably why he could hear the same damn guitar riff on repeat for hours. Luke thought his brain was either broken or that his soulmate was losing their mind listening to the same four seconds of a song over and over and over again at the earliest hours of the most random mornings.

Luke’s train of thought was interrupted by Doctor Browning’s hand and clip board waving in front of his face.

“You alright there?” he asked chuckling as Luke snapped his jaw shut, still not able to utter any words from the shock. “Do you think that the theory might be true in your situation?”

“I- I- yes? I think yes, it could be. I didn’t even know that was possible.” Luke stutters dumbfounded.

“Well like I mentioned before, you have one the least common types on connections and due to the fact that everything is connected through the brain it makes it harder for professionals to study it. So that being said, there are a lot of theories but I think there is a chance that this one is true, especially after hearing everything you just told me.”

Luke could only nod, not really paying attention to the Doctor anymore. He had been hearing her voice for months now and he didn’t even know it. He could hear her voice. He wasn’t crazy after all. He could have cried out of happiness, right there in the chair belonging to the pale green office.

“Alright now how long are you in LA?” Browning asked him.

“About a month and a half,” Luke told him.

“Well before you leave I would like to see you again. In the meantime I would like you to keep a list of every song that they sing that you recognise and what time it is in LA when they are singing that song, but most importantly I want you to keep track of the songs you don’t recognise. Write down the lyrics and anything else you can find out from these broken songs you think they are writing. Maybe, by the time you come see me again, you’ll have figured out who your soulmate is. I think you are probably getting close to it anyways.”

“Uh right definitely.” Luke says standing up from the chair and walking towards the door with slow steps, as if the weight that had been lifted off of his shoulders had landed on his feet. He was unsure about how this would help him. It was nice knowing that his connection wasn’t breaking but it scared him to think of how close he could have been to losing them.

The next thing he knew he was sitting in his car outside of the building. Luke didn’t even remember leaving the office or walking out the door. He had a business card in his hand with the date and time of his next appointment scheduled a few days before he flew back out to Australia with the boys. He must have talked to the secretary. He didn’t even remember that. How could he not even remember something that had just happened?

Luke closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a few minutes trying to calm down. When he opened his eyes he blinked a few times and looked back down at the card in his hands. He couldn’t read the card anymore; his hands were shaking too fast. His whole body began to tremor and his head fell to his clammy palms. He couldn’t stop them; he couldn’t stop the tears that were sliding down his cheeks and falling onto his lips. He let his hands and head rest against the steering wheel of the car, quietly sobbing to himself.

How was he ever going to find them?

[skip]

“You sure you’re okay?” Michael asked Luke as they pulled up to the LA house.

“I’m fine.” confirmed Luke, “I just had a bit of an emotional lapse.”

Michael looked at Luke with narrowed eyes, still not completely believing his story.

“I’m fine, really! Come on let’s get in the house I’m starving.” Luke said, teasingly punching Michael’s shoulder lightly. “Thank you for picking me up.”

“Yeah, no problem mate.” Michael finally sighed reaching over to take the keys out of the ignition and climbing out of the car. He followed Luke into the house but as soon as they were in the door Luke bolted for his bedroom, like a toddler on a mission to retrieve his favourite toy. So much for starving.

“What’s up with him?” asked Ashton, coming around the corner of the hallway with a spatula in hand.

“I have no idea.” said Michael dropping his keys into a bowl on a shelf and walking into the kitchen. “I get a call from him less than an hour ago. He was nearly crying and begging me to come pick him up because he couldn’t drive home.” Michael told Ashton while sitting down on one of the bar stools. “Then when I get there, he’s pretty much calmed down but he still didn’t want to drive. So I start driving us back and nothing.”

“Michael would you please elaborate on ‘nothing’?” Ashton asked adding emphasis to the nothing with air quotes.

“Just nothing, he wouldn’t talk; he wouldn’t answer any of my questions or anything. I mean I was trying not to push too far or be a mom about it but he’s freaking me out. It’s not like Luke.”

Ashton hummed and nodded his head, squinting his eyes as he mulled over what Michael had told him.

A few moments later Calum came into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water after his walk with Duke.

“How’d the walk go?” Michael asked Calum as he watched Duke make a beeline for his water dish.

“Good, good, I was impressed with him actually. He only had to be carried back the last few blocks.” Calum chuckled lightly, drowning more water before tossing the empty bottle into the recycle bin under the kitchen sink. “Ran into a few fans, they were cool but I swear they’re starting to like Duke more than me. This is the third time this week. I don’t even think they would have recognized me if the one who didn’t seem to care for dogs hadn’t said something. They honestly just wanted to pet Duke.”

“Did you forget your water bottle again?” asked Ashton, being the group mom he is.

“No I didn’t forget it. I went to go get it out of Michael’s car but he was gone before I could and I didn’t feel like going back into the house for a disposable.” said Calum.

“Oh sorry mate had to pick up Luke.”

“’It’s fine, I’ll go grab it now. Is the car unlocked?”

“Uh no it’s not, but I think I left my wallet in the car so I’ll get the bottle while I’m out there. See if you can figure out what’s up with Luke. He’s totally off today. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.” Michael said as he slipped off of the barstool and walked towards the front door.

“What’s wrong with him?” Calum asked following Michael leaving Ashton in the kitchen to finish cooking whatever it is that he was cooking.

“Honestly I have no idea. He asked me to pick him up because he was too upset to drive and then he wouldn’t tell me what was up.” Michael retold to Calum as he grabbed his shoes from the closet. “He sounded really upset on the phone.”

Calum just frowned and nodded his head just as Ashton had done a few minutes before.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Calum’s voice was muffled slightly as the front door closed and Michael walked towards the car. Michael unlocked the back seat and began to rummage between the bags and clothes that lay across the floor for Calum’s water bottle. He finally found it under a notebook of lyrics that they were scribbling in the other day.

Michael looked over the console in-between the driver’s seat and the passenger’s to see if he could find his wallet. He saw it lying on the dash of the car towards the passenger’s side. He got out of the backseat and opened the passenger’s door to reach for his wallet when he saw a business card lying on the seat that Luke had been sitting in earlier. Michael flipped the card over and read the business name to see if it might have a connection for Luke’s sudden attitude.

Doctor David Browning, Soulmate Consultant

“Luke what the fu-”

[skip]

Luke was in the midst of rummaging under his bed when a knock on the door surprised him and made him hit his head against the metal of the bed frame.

“What?” he hissed as he crawled out from under the bed. The door creaked open. Calum stood there in the doorway, eyebrows scrunched in confusion at Luke’s current position.

“Need ice for that?” Calum asked as Luke sat up against the wall beside the bed clutching the spot where he’d hit his head.

“No I didn’t hit it too hard.” Luke told him before asking “D’you need something?”

Calum hesitated before deciding to just bite the bullet and get it over with.

“Are you alright, mate?” he asked making sure to not look too concerned knowing it would set Luke off immediately.

“Yeah, told you I didn’t hit it that hard.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Calum said leaning against the door frame. “The boys and I have noticed that you’ve been kind of off the last few days and I was just wondering what’s going through your mind.”

Calum saw Luke’s shoulders tense slightly as he looked down at his hands.

“I’m fine.” Luke replied shortly, shifting from a sitting position to a crouch as he opens a drawer in his bedside table, trying to indicate to Calum that he wasn’t interested in continuing the conversation further. “Anything else?” he asked bluntly.

“Dude what’s your problem? You’re being quite rude.” Calum demanded trying not to get too worked up.

“There is nothing wrong with me. I am fine. I don’t need you, Michael, or Ashton breathing down my back every second I do something that you don’t understand.” Luke said through clenched teeth, pronouncing every syllable roughly. “I appreciate that you guys want to help, but I don’t need help from you.”

“Fine then, be pissy on your own.” Calum pushed himself off of the door frame and stormed away from the bedroom.

Luke wanted to go and apologise for being short with him, but at that moment, a pouty band mate was the least of his worries. His focus was on learning about, and finding his soulmate.

“Bingo.” Luke whispered to himself when he located a notebook in his side table. He skimmed over the first twenty or so pages until he found the empty pages about two thirds into the spiral bound paper. At the top of the page he scribbled down the date and then paused for a moment, wondering how he was going to write down the information he needed to remember. After a moment of thinking, his pencil returned to the page.

Soulmate?

Song+Artist+Time (LA)+Date

He was ready; all he had to do now was wait.

[skip]                                      

“Okay so as much as I love the fact that you aren’t afraid to play loudly and that you are actually a decent guitarist, if I hear that riff one more time I will throw a shoe at you like a cat in an alley.” Lynn’s roommate Kylie said from the doorway, holding a toothbrush in on hand and a tube of toothpaste in the other.

“Sorry Ky,” Lynn sighed placing the guitar back onto the stand that stood beside the bed. “I’m just trying to make it perfect you know? I can’t figure out where I go after the last few notes in the riff.”

“I hear you babe, I get that,” Kylie shouted over her shoulder as she walked into the bathroom that conjoined their bedrooms. “But it’s driving me crazy!”

Lynn followed her into the bathroom. She reached over the counter to grab her own toothbrush and start in on her own teeth.

“Wanna know something weird?” Lynn asked with a mouthful of foaming toothpaste.

“Always.” Kylie looked at her roommate grinning in the mirror; her own words were muffled by her equally full mouth.

“He’s not singing much these days.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, like, I don’t hear the songs in my head all that often, maybe like once or twice a day now.”

Kylie frowned. “Well that is weird for a lead singer.”

“Yeah no kidding, I hope he’s alright.”

“Maybe he’s just got a sore throat.” Kylie offered.

“Maybe.” The two of them sat in silence for a while as they both took turns using the sink and finishing up their before-bed-routines.

“I’m gonna keep working on that song.” Lynn said as she headed back into her own room. “I’ll keep it quiet but you might want headphones anyways.”

“I’ll be fine. I was planning on watching The 100 on Netflix until my eyes fall out of their sockets anyways. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.” Kylie told her.

“Nah I think I’ll pass tonight, I have to finish this or else I will be up all night thinking about it.”

“Alright girly, you do you, but if you change your mind just swing by. Just please don’t scare me if you open the door or something.” Kylie said laughing.

“Oh come on where’s the fun in that?” Lynn laughed back.

“Mmmhmm.” Kylie muttered flipping Lynn the bird over her shoulder as she walked back towards her own room.

“Goodnight Ky.”

“Goodnight.” She smiled blowing Lynn a kiss before shutting her door.

Lynn puttered around in the bathroom for a few minutes, tidying things up before heading into her room, leaving the door to the bathroom slightly ajar knowing that there was a slight chance that Kylie would end up sleeping in her room. She usually did after watching The 100. For a girl who acted tough, she sure couldn’t handle much gore. It made Lynn wonder why she watched the series to begin with, besides Bob Morley.

Just as she was about to crawl into bed and reach for her guitar, Lynn heard Kylie shouting from her room.

“Lynn!”

“Yeah? Did you need me to hold your hand already?” she shouted back with a small smile playing on her lips.

“Have you checked your phone?”

“Uh not recently. Why?”

“Just do it!” She squealed excitedly.

Huffing out a sigh, the blonde reached over to unplug her phone on the bedside table. “I’m never going to be able to get this riff finished if this keeps happening.” she muttered quietly to herself.

The screen illuminated and she looked through the few texts and notifications. A weather notification saying that there was a thunderstorm warning, a GIF from Kylie sent over an hour ago, a few text from a group chat she didn’t participate in much and oh, a tweet notification from Luke. That must be what Kylie was squealing about.

Lynn slid her thumb across the screen to open twitter and nearly screamed when she saw the tweet.

Hammer on and pull off D# on B string and maybe try using more of the Blues E scale :)

Series Masterlist

Regular Ol’ Masterlist

A/N: guys thank you so so much for all the love and support you’ve shown me from just the FIRST chapter. I am utterly blown away!!!! You are the truly the best. As always, the taglist is open and by no means limited, so just ask and you will be edited. Things will actually start to get interesting in the next chapter, and i mean REALLY REALLY INTERESTING...... until next week 

-xx Reetz

Taglist: @madformichael @h0tsos @fiesty5sos @misskarynie @negative-love@captivatingcal @beautifulplacesforhappines@felonystevefoundthe1975 @mellany1997 @caswinchester2000@babylonduke @castielanddeanthedog

[trans-fushiguro]

In a Week

Narancia has a huge crush on the cute boy in his Literature class who smells like flowers.

NaraMis Week 2019 - Day 4: Fear/Comfort/Flowers

So this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr but i got a shit ton of other fics, mostly overwatch, taz amnesty, and jojo fics on ao3 so feel free to check them out!

This was a part of NaraMis Week that was organized by @blubby-glub and just decided to post here bc i actually liked it

You can read this fic on ao3 here

The first time Narancia meets Mista, he almost runs him over.

He didn’t mean it at all! It was that all three of them were running late, Abbacchio having left the house in a hurry, driving in a way no self-respecting police officer should drive. All three of them had slept pass their alarm and the only reason they were awake was by the sole fact that Fugo had yelled a curse out loud, startling him and Abbacchio awake. Class started at 7:20 and to say they were running late was an understatement. They had ten minutes to get the school, and by god will Narancia get them there on time, traffic laws and the usual twenty-five-minute drive it took to get there be damned.

Let it be known that Narancia doesn’t usually (read: ever) drive. Driving was left up to Fugo, who while prone to a severe case of road rage, is quite the good driver. The only reason that Narancia was driving that instant was because of Fugo not being able to find his license. Leaving Narancia to be the driver for the day. Something Narancia hated six minutes later, four minutes to go before the two were officially late.

Narancia was gunning down the road, definitely over the speed limit when he notices two figures starting to cross the road. Fugo shouts and Narancia curses, slamming the breaks. He probably would’ve hit the taller of the three were it not for the other two quickly pulling the other back and out of the way. The group of five stared at each other, shocked and a little terrified at what had almost occurred before the girl of the group recovered and threw them the nastiest glare either of the boys had ever seen.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going! You couldn’t have almost killed him!” she shouted, anger making her frame tense. Narancia gulped. Man, she is terrifying. She turned to her companions, a blonde kid and the guy with the beanie. “Are you okay? That idiot didn’t manage to clip you right?” she asked, another poisonous glare thrown at them. The taller of the boys nodded, releasing a shaky breath.

“Yeah, yeah, no, I’m fine! Just a close one,” he laughed weakly, glancing at Fugo and him. Narancia felt himself dying of embarrassment. Before either of them could open their mouth to apologize, the blond in the back pipped up.

“We have two minutes left. We got to go,” the other two cursed and the trio ran off towards the school. Narancia and Fugo stared after them for a solid minute, before Fugo broke the silence.

“You… are never allowed to drive again…” he said slowly, staring after the group as they entered the building. Narancia nodded.

“Agreed,”

They got there late. Fugo flicked him upside the head as they ran down the hallway, dipping into a classroom on his way. Narancia grimaced and picked up his pace. Maybe Risotto hadn’t shown up? He kept that hope as he turned and ran to his classroom almost slamming into the door. He throws it in, heaving only to have the whole class and Risotto stare at him. So much for that dream. Risotto raised a thin white eyebrow.

“Sorry…” he heaved, still searching for air. The teacher just rolled his eyes and gestured to the last open chair, that happened to be with the last person Narancia wanted to see right now. He wasn’t sure what god he pissed off that lovely Tuesday morning but damn it if karma wasn’t helping them. Sitting in the desk at the back was the dude with the beanie. The one he almost ran over.

Narancia didn’t know if he should laugh or just cry at this point.

“Narancia, if you would please take a seat over there next to Guido so I can continue the lesson you rudely interrupted? Thank you,” the man said, a little exasperated.

“Sorry, sir,”

“Don’t let it happen again,”

Narancia felt dread as he walked to the back of the room. The boy didn’t notice he was there until he pulled the chair, the legs scraping against the scratched linoleum, causing the other (Guido, his brain supplies) to jump in his seat, startled. He can hear a sigh from the teacher. Oops. It’s not even eight yet and this might just be one of the most horrifying and embarrassing days of his life. Must be a new record. Guido stares at him, surprised as he sits down, before turning back to his doodling. Narancia tries to ignore the haunting situation he finds himself in. He tries to focus on the lecture but he couldn’t care less about the difference between a Shakespearean and Petrarchan sonnet, and so his eyes begin to drift. They end up landing on Guido.

The other boy was taller than him and seemed a bit more muscular. He wore a purple beanie and a striped baggy shirt. He could see some curls peeking out from beneath his hat. He had long lashes and the darkest eyes he’s ever seen. He was focused on his doodling, brows slightly furrowed and tongue peeking out slightly.  Narancia glanced and saw he was doodling flowers, different kinds. Narancia didn’t know much about flowers but the little drawings were pretty nice. He noticed a bundle of roses, what was probably a daisy, a tulip, among others. It was pretty cute. He was pretty cute. Dear God, he almost ran over the cute boy in his literature class who draws flowers. The situation had been present in his mind, yes, but it hadn’t quite sunk in that 1) the almost-victim of the vehicular manslaughter he almost committed is just his type and 2) he would have to see him every other day for the rest of the school year.

Narancia groaned and put his head on his desk. Quite possibly the worst day of his life. He can already imagine Fugo’s sadistic glee at seeing him suffer like this. He felt a soft tap at his head, he groaned. He didn’t even care if it was his teacher, he just needed to suffer for five minutes an then he’ll be somewhat okay. The tapping returned, just a little more prodding, and that’s when Narancia noticed that the tapping was coming from his other side. He felt mortification engulf him as if he was thrown into a lake. He snapped his head up quicker than he thought, headbutting Guido, who had leaned in a little closer than he expected. The other boy hissed in pain, hands shooting up to cover his nose. Narancia cursed, having slammed his knee with his desk when he jumped up.

“Narancia, how many times will I have to call you attention in this class?” Risotto approached them, voice tired. The whole class stared at the two of them, not that Narancia noticed as he was too busy looking at Guido horrified. The other’s nose had started bleeding. The older man turned to look at Guido holding his nose and Narancia’s hand rubbing his bruised leg and sighed.

“Both of you go to the nurse’s office,”

Narancia couldn’t even reply, he felt horrified. Guido nodded and began to stand up, spurring Narancia into action. He winced at the pain in his leg.

“Thank you, R-Mr. Nero,” he said, quickly before whispering, “You think you can not mention this to Abbacchio?”

“Not a chance.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

He and Guido left the room, Narancia making sure there was enough distance between the two. He didn’t want to trip Guido or anything, because knowing his luck, he might just break the other’s arm or something. In moments like this, he was glad Fugo wasn’t around. He thinks his brother would have just died of laughter at the hole Narancia’s dug himself in. It was kind of pathetic.

“Hey, uh… Narancia, was it? Can we stop by the bathroom? I could use a napkin… or two for, you know,” Guido said, gesturing to his nose. His voice sounded a bit nasally from the pressure he was putting on his nose, blood dripping from his nose through the cracks in his fingers and down his chin. Oh, yeah. That would’ve been smart. Great thinking Narancia.

“Y-Yeah! Of course!” Narancia was never going to leave the house ever again, education be damned.

After a quick detour to the bathroom, they arrived at the nurse’s office. She gave an ice pack to Narancia to keep the swelling down and gave some cotton balls soaked in alcohol to Guido. The two sat next to each other, Guido’s head tilted back, and Narancia fighting not to bounce his injured leg. The silence felt oppressive to him.

Just talk to him, introduce yourself to him. ‘Hey, I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car and for headbutting you!’ Easy, you got this!

“You should look both ways when you cross.” What the fuck. Guido gave him an incredulous look.

“Are you serious?” Why was he built like this?

“T-That’s not what I meant! I really really did not mean for that to come out?” He panicked, flailing his arms around. This is officially the worst day of his life. “I meant to say sorry! For almost hitting you with my car! This morning! Hi, I’m Narancia! Also sorry for headbutting you! It’s just not been my day and I was speeding and your name is Guido isn’t it? That’s a nice name! Uh, anyways! I’m sorry for um almost killing you? God, that’s horrifying. Your friend is also really scary, she terrified me and my brother. Why do I keep talking? I AM SORRY!”

Mista blinked, taken aback by the speed at which Narancia delivered his small, disjointed speech. Narancia was already choosing which kind of coffin he would like to bury himself into. He’s thinking nice mahogany, painted black. He thinks Abbacchio would like it.

Guido opened his mouth, Narancia already finalizing his testament, but was interrupted when a man with a black bob opened the door. He wore a long-sleeved loose shirt, with light washed jeans and rubber boots. His eyes swept through the room before landing on the two boys.

“Hey, Bruno…” Guido smiled sheepishly, the cotton ball still held near his nose. “Funny seeing you here,”

The man, Bruno, just stared at the other, unimpressed.

“When I told you that I was picking you guys early, it wasn’t a free pass to get sent to the nurse’s office.” Mista shrugged.

“It was an accident.” Bruno huffed, rolling his eyes. Narancia could see a soft smile grace his features.

“Sure it is. Either way, I’m glad you are okay. Let’s go wait for Trish and Giorno.” From behind the older man, Narancia catches the glimpse of a police hat and silver hair. Oh shit. Abbacchio appears behind Bruno, saying a soft excuse me, before his eyes land on Narancia. They look at each other for a solid minute. Abbacchio turns to Guido and Bruno, the latter helping pick up the former’s bag while Guido wiped the blood from his face. Abbacchio turned back to him.

“What the fuck, kid?” Narancia would like to know too.

Fugo had had a field day with this one, his adopted brother laughing for five minutes straight. Whenever the laughter would petter down, one look at Narancia would start the laughter again. Finally, Abbacchio took pity on him and put an end to it.

“Alright, Fugo, lay off. Sure he almost hit this guy with the car, ran into the class all sweaty and gross, which Risotto texted me about just so you know, and then proceeded to headbutt the same kid and bruise the hell out of his own knee in the process is funny, but you should stop teasing him about it,” the policeman said from where he was cooking the dinner for the night. Fugo cackled and Narancia slammed his head on the table.

“I hate you both,”

The idea of going to school was haunting. Even if Abbacchio let him stay home the next day, he still had to face Guido. Something he really didn’t want to do. He felt both relieved and upset that Guido wasn’t there in the first block. It wasn’t until lunch when he was sitting with Fugo, waiting for Sheila, that he got an answer. The blond kid that had been with Guido approached them. He looked at the small group before his eyes landed on Narancia. The kid looked pretty small and skinny, but he was still at least an inch taller than Narancia. Maybe he was here to fight him? He did almost run over his friend.

“You’re Narancia right?” he asked, voice devoid of emotions. Oh, yeah. Narancia’s going to get destroyed.

“Why do you ask?” Fugo questioned, sitting up a bit straighter. The blond turned to him, raising an eyebrow. Sheila approaches them, drinking a juice box.

“My brother asked me to give this to a Narancia,” he said, holding up a little box none of them have noticed. “Which surprises me, considering you guys almost ran him over with your car,” Sheila choked on her juice, turning to the blond. The blond nodded to her.

“Hey, Sheila,”

“Wait, Giorno, you’re telling me it was these idiots that almost ran over Mista?” her voice trembled with laughter as she turned to stare at the two. Fugo and Narancia grimaced. Sheila’s eyes grew bright and she laughed. “Narancia, I can’t believe you almost hit Mista with a car, and then gave him a bloody nose, this is rich.” Giorno shook his head, a smile on his lips. Narancia relaxed. If Giorno was here to beat him up on behalf of his brother, he probably wouldn’t be amused by the situation.

“Anyways, are you Narancia or not? Mista told me to give this to you. He would’ve done it himself, but he’s a bit sick,” he said, holding out the box. Narancia nodded, taking the box. Giorno hummed, then waved to Sheila before walking away. Narancia stared in wonder, opening the box and seeing a single rose with a small note tied to it. Narancia gently took the note out.

“Water under the bridge. Call me Mista.”

After the most horrifying day in his life, everything with Mista smoothed over.

Mista introduced Narancia to his younger siblings. Giorno looked at him, vaguely smug-looking, almost like a cat. Trish stared at him, almost as if searching for something. Whatever she found must have satisfied her as she smiled at him and allowed him to sit. Narancia felt slightly nervous around her. Mista’s siblings were scary, despite being only sophomores. They looked like they knew more than they let on, blue eyes peering into his soul. He shivered, glad and a little exasperated that Mista didn’t really notice.

He also introduced Mista to Fugo, who had apologized for almost running him over. Narancia was a little jealous it went over better than how his apology had gone. SHeila had already been friends with Mista and his siblings, so it was quite easy for the two of them to just sit with the others. Apparently, Trish was the girlfriend Sheila had been talking about. Narancia liked it, it was nice to have a little group. It was nice to be able to hang out with Mista.

Mista, who he still had a major crush on. The more he learned about the other, the more infatuated he became. He had the same sense of humor as Narancia and liked the same music. He smelled like flowers and rich earth, something that was a mystery to him. Mista also loved flowers. It was something he’d noticed amongst the foster siblings. They all had the same affinity to nature in general. They all had that same pleasant smell.

He was looking for flowers to put on his mother’s grave. His usual shop had closed early for the day, so he searched for another shop nearby. He almost missed it in the search results, but the name drew him in. La Calendula.

It was his mother’s favorite flower. A smile graced his face as he wrote down the address. He called out to Fugo and Abbacchio, telling them where he was going. They let him go alone. It was something Narancia needed to do alone, with relative peace.

He set off, walking the ten minutes to the shop. It was small, yet looked well taken care of. The sign was hand-painted and there were displays of flowers in the window. He opened the door, a bell softly tingling, announcing his entrance. The man behind the counter looked up, squinting, before giving him a beaming smile.

“Hello, welcome to La Calendula! How may I help you?” the man asked, voice strong and warm. He looked familiar to Narancia. Something about the short black hair and blue eyes tickled at his memory. He let it go. He’s never been here before so it was probably a weird bout of déjà vu.

“Yes, I was wondering if you could help me pick out a bouquet for my mother’s grave? The flower shop I normally go to closed early for the day and I’ve been meaning to swing by to visit her,” To Narancia’s relief, the man didn’t give him a look of pity, just hummed and pondered for a second, nodding, and looking knowingly at Narancia. The look looked incredibly familiar. It almost reminded him of Trish when she was plotting.

“I think I have an idea as to what to do,” he said, before turning back and calling out to the backroom. “Mista! Bring out some sunflowers and peonies!” he paused for a second, before continuing. “Call Giorno and see if the larkspur and gladiola are ready!” He heard a familiar voice shout back in affirmation.

Narancia’s brain stopped. Huh. Now everything made sense. The man was Bruno, the siblings’ foster dad, and owned a flower shop. That why the siblings smelled like that and why they all held an affinity to flowers. The rose Mista gave him. Makes sense. He, however, wasn’t ready to see Mista walk out of the back looking incredibly adorable.

Mista carried a few containers of flowers, most likely the one’s Bruno called for. They were beautiful, a combination of colors but what was even more beautiful was the boy carrying them. His curls were freed from his everpresent hat, small flowers weaved into them, making them pop with color. His eyes were bright and happy, looking at peace amongst the flowers. He had a streak of dirt on his cheek, his freckles seemed to pop out more, most likely from him being in the sun. He was dressed simply in an oversized white shirt and with overalls on, the strap sliding off his shoulder.

Narancia was in love.

Mista then seemed to notice him, eyes widening and he stumbles, almost dropping the containers if not for Bruno stepping in. Narancia misses the knowing look and grin Bruno flashes Mista. Mista’s cheeks color, clearly embarrassed. Narancia wishes he could take a picture of how beautiful he looks.

“H-Hey, Nara! Didn’t know you were here!” Mista said, shooting a glare at Bruno, who responded with a smile, patting Mista’s shoulder.

“I’ll be out back if you need me!” Bruno said, winking. Mista groaned. “Behave yourself!”

The two stood next to each other, just staring not knowing what to do. Mista’s blush had quickly spread to the tips of his ears, and he stuttered out.

“Hey, how help can you? I mean, how you can help. Fuck.” he took a deep breath. “How can I help you?”

Narancia softly laughed. He gestured to the flowers Bruno left on the counter.

“Just these. I need an arrangement,” he said, enjoying the sight of a flustered Mista. It was really cute. Narancia wasn’t the brightest, but he definitely wasn’t blind to see Mista’s reaction was a result of infatuation. He felt light and airy, seeing that they had the same effect on each other. The other boy laughed as well, a little jittery, and nodded, going to the flowers. The two began chatting, talking about anything that popped into their mind, Narancia enraptured in watching as Mista efficiently started building the arrangement. He used burgundy, pink, and white, adding the yellow of the sunflowers to pop. It was beautiful, and from the soft smile pulling at the sides of full lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes as he stared at the flowers, Narancia knew he loved what he did here. And when Mista gave him the same look, eyes soft and shining, Narancia caved in.

Careful with the flower arrangement, he leaned forward, getting close to Mista. Violet looked into coal, and their lips met. It was a sweet kiss, soft and slow. Narancia could breathe Mista’s fresh scent, stronger than it ever was. It was comforting and sweet. Narancia felt like he could stay there, drinking in all of Mista for hours, and by how hard they were smile, teeth clinking against each other, it was mutual.

“Finally! About time!” The two were startled apart, Mista whipping around to see his whole family there. Trish had been the one to yell and was beaming, Giorno had a mischevious grin on his face, a camera in his hands. Bruno smiled at the two softly. Mista instantly went red, Narancia not far behind going by the haet he feels flooding his cheeks.

“Are you guys serious?! Get out!” he shouted in indignation and embarrassment. The three laughed at his expense, leaving the two alone, Giorno throwing a quick quip in Japanese at Mista that had the other yelling after him, the blond leaving with a giggle. Mista turned back, sheepishly.

“Sorry about that, you know how it is,” Narancia smiled, and gave him another soft kiss. Mista reciprocated happily.

“It’s okay,” Narancia breaks apart and presses their foreheads together, giving Mista a soft look, repeating something from what felt like yesterday.

“Water under the bridge.”