#AND TORE DOWN MY MISSING POSTERS AND HUNG THEM ON THE WALLS ONE SO NO ONE CAN LOOK AT ME FROM THERE TWO SO SHE CAN HAVE MORE PICTURES OF ME

[skylarsin7]

Chapter 16: Aftermath

Two Days Later

An earthquake. They were calling it an earthquake. Ridiculous. But, the good news was that most people were packing up and leaving. It was for the best really. There were so many missing or dead already. If the Upside Down was really bleeding into Hawkins, then the less people on the battlefield, the better. 

Lily watched as Steve pulled out of the driveway, and stared after him long after the car vanished from sight. She let the curtain fall back, and turned. The guest room was comfortable enough, but the last two days had been hell. Nightmares and fevers had plagued her, and that didn't even come close to the embarrassment and shame she felt for her open display of poorly placed passion. She still couldn't look Steve in the eye. Or bring herself to speak to him beyond a word or two. She crossed the hall into the bathroom, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, drawn, her lips a thin, grim line. Dark circles stood out under her eyes like vivid bruises, her eyes sunken and lackluster. She looked like death, and didn't feel much better. She had overheard Steve talking with Robin last night about helping out at the high school. It had been set up as a kind of relief center. She didn't care that she was still technically a missing and wanted person or not. She had to help.

She searched through the closet of the guest room, finding nothing. Disappointed, she crossed the hall to Steve’s room. She rummaged around, ignoring the fact that she was in Steve’s room, letting out a small triumphant sound as she found a pair of faded black sweatpants. They hung off her several sizes too big, but at least the pants had a drawstring. In his closet, she found a hoodie, which also hung off her slight frame. Once dressed, she tucked her hair into a beanie cap, taking one last look in the mirror. She looked like a hobo, but she supposed it was different enough that she wouldn't be recognized right away. If anyone paid any attention to her at all. As she turned to leave, she spied Eddie’s jean vest hung in the closet. Grief and rage bubbled up in her chest in equal measure. Why did Steve still have it? If it belonged to anyone, it should be her. She reached for it, her fingers halting just centimeters from the rough fabric. Steve’s blood still stained it in places, and each patch mocked her with its familiarity. These were all the things Eddie loved, and would never enjoy again. She tore her gaze away, bolting from the room.

***

The high school was swarming with people when she arrived, droves upon droves flooding the doors and milling outside. She was already tired from the walk, covered in a light sheen of sweat despite the chill. She made her way inside, nearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the building. It was a zoo. Cots had been lined up in neat rows, nearly one on top of the other and there were almost no vacancies. Tables laden with blankets, clothes, kids toys, and food were arranged around the perimeter, with several volunteers working them. She spied Steve sorting clothes, smiling softly to himself. She wondered briefly what he was thinking about. Maybe you… Her mind teased, taunting her with images of her romantic blunder, which caused her face to heat up. She shook her head, dispelling that mocking voice. She spied a huge bulletin board on the back wall, nearly overrun with missing persons posters. She felt drawn to it by a force she didn't comprehend. As she neared it, she froze. 

"Mr. Munson? I'm Dustin Henderson, can we...talk?" Dustin approached Wayne as he replaced the graffitied missing persons poster of Eddie with a new one. Wayne paused, barely offering Dustin a glance. "I don't believe there is anything for us to talk about. My nephew is innocent, and he's still missing. I'll put up as many posters as I need to until he is found." Wayne's voice had an edge of determination and Lily had to suppress a sob. Dustin hesitated for a moment and Wayne brushed past him, heading right for Lily. His eyes looked right through as if she wasn’t even there. "Good day to you." He said to Dustin as he walked passed. "I was with him…I was with him when the earthquake hit." Dustin's words froze the older man in his tracks. "And…where is Eddie now?" Wayne asked, turning back to face the younger man. Dustin's face crumpled, his brown eyes glassy with tears. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Eddie's guitar pick necklace. "I'm sorry…" Dustin managed as he handed it over. Lily could see that Eddie's blood still stained the chain. Wayne seemed to age right before their eyes, crumpling in on himself as his shoulders shook, grief crashed over him. Lily understood his pain all too well. 

  Eddie's uncle sank onto an empty cot, gripping the chain tightly in his fist as silver tears streaked down his tanned and wrinkled face. Dustin followed, sitting on the edge of the cot. "I wish everyone had gotten to know him....really know him. Because they would have loved him." He said quietly. "They would have loved him. Even in the end, he never stopped being Eddie. Despite everything…" Dustin swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. "I never even saw him get mad." He paused again, as if searching his memory. "He could have run…could've saved himself. But he didn't. He fought. He fought and died to protect this town…this town that hated him. He isn't just innocent, Mr. Munson…he's…he's a hero…" Lily gathered her courage and cleared her throat. 

"He was so much more than that." She said as she approached. Dustin’s attention snapped to her.  "Lily, what are you?..." He asked, his eyes wide with shock. She silenced him with a look. She sank to her knees before Eddie's uncle, gently taking his withered hands in her own. "He was kind, courageous, and had a bigger heart than anyone gave him credit for. He was the man that I loved. And the people that really counted, the ones that really mattered,  always knew he was innocent." Wayne turned her hand over in his, eyeing Eddie's ring. "This was one of his…" He managed quietly. Lily nodded. "He asked me to marry him the night before the earthquake. And I said yes. With your permission, I would like to bear his name for the rest of my life." Wayne stared at her, his eyes wide and full of tears. "I can think of no better way to honor him. But...are you sure? You are so young and to tie yourself…" Wayne broke off and she offered him a small smile. "I was prepared to bear his name as his wife. I will bear his name as his widow. For under the stars we were wed in all the ways that truly counted." She told him. Wayne leaned down and hugged her tightly. "He was lucky to have you. To have you both." He murmured. 

  "Excuse me, hello? Officer, I am looking for my daughter…" Lily froze. She knew that voice. She turned her head just enough to see her mother and stepfather cornering an officer of the Hawkins PD. She slowly pulled away from Wayne. "Dustin…it's my parents…" She could barely breathe as her heart leapt in her throat. Dustin's eyes widened as he followed her gaze. Wayne's eyes fell on them as well. "Go, we will hold them off." Eddie’s uncle seemed to understand without prompting that they couldn't know she was there. Dustin stood, his eyes steely as he approached them. Wayne stood, shoving Lily behind him. "Walk slowly into the crowd, and try not to draw attention to yourself." He murmured. She nodded, squeezing his hand. "Thank you." She whispered. He nodded. "Go." 

"Please, her name is Liliana and we are so worried…" Her mother was saying as Dustin approached. "You’re Lily's mother?" He asked, his voice a low growl. She turned to face him, her stricken expression turning into one of confusion. "Where is she?" The man at her side said, mock concern edging every syllable. Dustin would have laughed but for the hatred blooming in his chest. “Somewhere you will never be able to hurt her again.” Dustin’s voice was a snarl, his eyes steely and ice cold. Mr. Ramsey leveled him with a stare that a few days ago would have had him quaking in his shoes, but after what they had seen and been through, it would take a lot more than an angry glare to intimidate him. “Hurt her? How dare you presume to…” Mr. Ramsey’s face lit up scarlet, rapidly bordering purple as his rage bubbled. Dustin ignored him and his eyes fell on Lily’s mother, who seemed to shrink a little behind her husband. “You heard me right. She is out of your reach now. Did you know that your loving husband used to beat her? Slap her, scream at her and abuse her whenever you weren’t around? Threaten her with even more pain if she went to you about it?” Mrs. Ramsey stared at him, her jaw hanging slack. Clearly, she hadn’t known. Mr. Ramsey bristled even more. “How dare you… who the hell are you?” He hissed, his fists curled at his sides. He seemed to be weighing the merits of decking a minor. 

Dustin continued to ignore him. “She had the bruises and scars to prove it. One that was particularly bad across her back. Made by the buckle of his belt.” Dustin’s eyes finally landed on Mr. Ramsey. “Who the hell am I? That’s rich coming from you, Pastor. There is a special place in hell for those that delight in inflicting pain on others. Especially women who are not as prepared to defend themselves. Especially a daughter you were meant to protect. I was one of Lily’s friends. We were there for her when no one else was.” He sneered. His eyes fell again on Mrs. Ramsey. “You want to know where your daughter is? She’s dead. She died alongside the man she loved, sacrificing herself to help save a town that barely knew her, but had become her home. We offered a safe place where she could be herself, not some better homes and gardens version of her you tried to create. No wonder she ran away from home. You didn’t care enough to see what he was doing to her, didn’t care enough to listen when she tried to tell you. You and your false concern can go straight to hell. Straight. To. Hell. She is beyond your reach now.” 

Mrs. Ramsey continued to stare at him, as if his words didn’t quite penetrate her thick skull. Wayne placed a gentle hand on Dustin’s shoulder as Mr. Ramsey leveled him with a glare that had the potential to curdle dairy. “And why should we believe some small town, godless freak? If you are withholding my daughter’s location from us…” Mr. Ramsey sneered, his threat hanging unspoken but heavy between them. It was Wayne that spoke before Dustin had the chance to. “Not that I care about your high and mighty opinion or disposition, but the boy is telling the truth. Lily was engaged to my nephew, and they perished together in the earthquake that has devastated our town. As you can see, we are all in mourning. I suggest you go back to where you came from and do the same. As the boy said, she is out of your abusive reach now.” Mr. Munson’s voice never rose, but held all the coldness of an arctic blast. He tightened his grip on Dustin’s shoulder. It was all the warning he needed to stay put, and stay quiet. 

Mrs. Ramsey seemed to finally understand Dustin’s words and let out an agonized wail, burying her face in her husband’s chest. He cradled her close, but the gesture was only a front. His eyes never left Wayne’s face, and that stare promised an eternity of torture and pain. He led the prone woman away, who continued to cry and wail. At least her grief seemed real enough. Lily stood frozen, her back to them. She didn’t dare glance back in case her stepfather was still watching. She hadn’t known that Eddie had told Dustin about her scars. She thought back to all the times that the duo could have been alone and…she shook her head. Up on the roof of Eddie’s trailer in the Upside Down. That would have explained Dustin’s expression and the fact that they immediately stopped talking as she had approached. She felt a brief flash of anger, but understanding followed after it. That was a burden she shouldn’t have expected Eddie to keep to himself. Dustin cared for her as much as Eddie had, and it was better he knew instead of him finding out by accident later. Her heart felt heavy and sore with the loss of her mother, but in its wake came an incredible lightness. She was free. She sent a grateful glance skyward as if to say “See Eds, it’s over now.” She stepped away from Dustin and Wayne, moving into the crowd. She had almost reached the door when a hand curled around her bicep, yanking her to a stop. She gasped sharply, her heart hammering like a drum as she half-turned to see Steve’s furious dark eyes glaring back at her, spearing her to where she stood. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He hissed. She swallowed hard, but felt herself relaxing, grateful it wasn’t her stepfather. “I’m not a child Steve. I will not be herded like one of your nuggets.” She matched his tone, lifting her chin in defiance. “You are certainly acting like a child. You know how dangerous it is right now.” He growled, tightening his grip on her arm. She fought a wince, leveling him with eyes sharp as amber glass. “I turned eighteen three days ago. I am an adult and can make my own choices. I wanted to help. So I came to help.” She fought to keep her voice level. Steve made a sound of frustration in his throat, pulling her with him as he stepped outside.

         “Are you out of your mind?” He asked, keeping his voice low. He pulled her around the side of the building, out of sight. He all but pinned her against the wall. It didn’t escape his notice that under any other circumstances, this would have been a very seemingly intimate situation. She didn’t answer him right away, her eyes glazing over with tears. “Why do you still have his vest?” She asked bluntly, her voice quiet, almost a growl as she wrestled with her emotions. He hesitated, glancing away from her. “That isn’t the issue at hand.” He replied. She stared him down, amber blazing in her irises. “Why. Do. You. Still. Have. His. Vest?” She asked a second time, her tone daring him to refuse her again. He sighed heavily. “I…I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.” He admitted. She swallowed hard, unable to hold her tears back. They streaked down her face, soaking the collar of her hoodie. He reached for her but she shrank away, out of his grasp. He sighed. “I thought maybe if I kept it…it would make things less painful…his absence less real.” He added, stepping towards her once more. And again, she shrank away from him. “Lily, please…” His voice was beseeching, his eyes begging her to let him comfort her. She refused to concede and he sighed. 

  “Alright, let me take you home.” He compromised. “I want to go see Max first.” She said, her eyes and voice like stone. He hesitated, but nodded. “Let me go get the others.” He backed away from her cautiously, as if he were afraid she would bolt. She didn’t and he returned a few moments later, Robin and Dustin in tow. “Lily?” Robin asked breathlessly as she approached. Lily nodded, unable to keep eye contact for long. “I wanted to help.” She offered simply in way of explanation. Robin’s gaze softened. “Oh honey…” She whispered, wrapping Lily in a hug. She sank into the taller girl’s arms, clinging to her like a lifeline. She could almost feel Steve’s hurt gaze drilling into her back, but she refused to look at him. “Let’s get out of here before her parents come out to their car.” Dustin advised, taking a wary glance around the parking lot. 

The ride to the hospital was a silent one, with Lily leaning heavily against Robin’s shoulder. Not for the first time Lily felt as if she stood on the edge of a great precipice, and this time, there was no Eddie to pull her back. Steve stole worried glances at her in the rearview mirror, but she did her best to ignore him. Things were still awkward between them, and it was unlikely that that would ever change. 

  The hospital was larger than Lily anticipated for such a small town. Steve had barely parked the car before she was climbing out of it. “Hey, wait for us!” Steve called after her. She turned, shaking her head. “I want to go up alone.” She insisted. Steve looked like he was going to protest, but thought better of it and nodded. She disappeared into the double doors without another word. 

The lobby she entered was brightly lit and brimming with people, families waiting for news, medical personnel moving to and fro like busy worker bees. She approached the reception desk, where an exhausted looking woman peered over half-moon glasses at her. “How may I help you?” The receptionist sounded exasperated and clearly stretched to her limits. Lily managed a small smile. “I’m here to see Maxine Mayfield. I’m a friend.” She replied. The woman’s fingers flew lightly over the keys, her gaze only landing momentarily on the screen before returning to Lily. “And your name?” She asked. Lily swallowed hesitating. “Rose. Rose Munson.” The name slid off her tongue with the ease of a serpent, much too quickly for Lily to recall it. It shocked her that she could speak Eddie’s surname without choking on it. The woman didn’t seem to notice or care that she bore the last name of the man everyone was convinced was behind all this. “Third floor, room 201. Turn left as you leave the elevator.” The receptionist instructed, handing Lily a visitor’s pass. She stuck it on quickly, breathing a quick sigh of relief as she turned away and headed for the elevator.

[velvethana]

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ songs for you.

With the encouragement from his friends to stop yapping and finally do something about his crush, Yeonjun enacts a multi-step plan to ensure you fall for him. Unfortunately, each incident seems to crash and burn.

જ⁀➴♡ wc 6k ✧ fluff , humor

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the manicured lawns and towering buildings of the university as you yawned.

Stepping out of your final class of the day, the campus buzzed with energy and activity around you. Despite the students rushing past you, your eyes stayed glued to your phone as you quickly texted your friends to let them know that you were done with your class.

Unknown to you, staggering behind was Yeonjun whose eyes stayed glued to you. Soobin seemed to notice his lack of animated responses and followed his line of sight, only to see you.

“Staring holes into the back of her head surely isn’t getting you anywhere.” Soobin said teasingly, nudging him.

The sound of Kai’s loud laughter caused Yeonjun to sink into himself as he shot the boy an annoyed look, quickly checking that you didn’t look over at the commotion.

Of course, you were too busy tied up in your own world and he let out a sigh of relief.

The conversation was punctuated by the ringing of bells signaling the end of classes. “Why don’t you just make a move already? You’re running out of time, at the pace you’re going someone else is gonna swoop in.” Beomgyu’s flat tone didn’t seem to match his interest in the topic as he tucked his phone into his pocket.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, she’s just always busy.” Yeonjun scoffed as he brushed a strand of hair from his face.

“Really?” Soobin hummed, “I haven’t seen you talked to her once.”

Yeonjun straightened his back and let out a huff as he jumped to defend himself. “That’s not true, we talked at the student showcase!”

Soobin snickered, “Oh right. Was that when you spilled your Sprite on her?”

“Ai—”

In the distance, there was the faint strains of music drifting from a nearby quad, where a group of students has gathered to enjoy the late afternoon sun. Beomgyu tore his eyes away from the group as they had passed, chiming in.

“Oh, yeah! And then she missed collecting her prize money because she went to go clean herself up.”

Embarrassment was written all over his face as Yeonjun ran a hand down his face, refusing to think back on the memory.

“Okay. Not my proudest moment, clearly.”

“You don’t have that many proud moments anyways, so don’t worry about it.” Taehyun teased, placing a hand on his older friends’ shoulder.

Yeonjun groaned, shaking him off as the group made their way through the campus to the court.

Yeonjun thought of what the others said as his eyes scanned the walls of the buildings, adorned with posters advertising lectures, performances, and club meetings. Despite his lack of personal interest in these clubs, they seemed to give him a few ideas on how to get your attention.

Yeonjun stood at the free-throw line, ball in hand, heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.

It wasn’t like Yeonjun was a sweat when it came to their games— they were always in good fun so he never worried too much about it but knowing that you were only a few feet away on the bleachers with your friends had him feeling much more competitive.

Yeonjun glanced over at you, his heart stopping when he caught your eyes with his. Glancing over out of curiosity, you found yourself a bit embarrassed with the sudden eye contact but you flashed him a quick supportive smile.

In all honesty, you didn’t know much about him aside from what you heard from everyone around you. Yeonjun was attractive, that much you could admit, but it was a bit difficult to approach him considering how highly everyone spoke of him.

The two of you shared quite a few mutual friends so you’d run into each other fairly often but you never found yourself particularly engaged in a conversation with him alone.

The one time that you had talked to him ended with you covered in sticky soda which was of course, much less than favorable.

Even still, the conversation before had been enjoyable enough as he told you how much he liked your art. Student showcases were a bit of a drag and you found them quite embarrassing but when you’d later found out that he had dragged the rest of his friends to see your display, it felt worth it.

From then on you’d regarded Yeonjun as attractive and kind.

The eye contact grew a bit uncomfortable as you nervously laughed, quickly turning back to face your friends who gave you a teasing smile.

“Well, anyways, I’m not sure if I’ll text him back. I mean it was really nice but I don’t think he’s really the type to want something serious, you know?”

Karina hummed as she twirled her hair around her finger. “Are you sure you’re not making an assumption? Maybe he can surprise you.” She offered and you bit the inside of your cheek.

Ningning laughed as she tangled a sour strip above Winter who tried to catch it with her mouth. Watching this, you found yourself laughing at her struggling from her position lying on the bleachers.

“Y/N’s impossibly high standards strike again,” Giselle says as she shakes you gently by your shoulder with a smile.

Sheepishly, you rubbed the back of your neck and whined. “Isn’t that a good thing? I don’t wanna be played by some dumb disingenuous guy, y’know?”

You used to think that falling in love was about holding on, but soon you found that it wasn’t. Meaningless conversations made your head spin and after one too many times, you’ve practically given up.

At the end of the day, you realized you may never realize what love truly was. Or maybe you’ve had it all wrong. There was always the possibility that someone could change your mind but you refused to hold your breath waiting for it.

Winter finally caught the sour rope in her mouth and bit down on it, tugging the rope as it slipped from a distracted Ningning’s grasp, slapping Winter in the face.

Ningning’s attention had been turned toward the court as she saw the familiar group of boys muttering and looking over.

Winter choked as she sat up straight, coughing as she blinked rapidly to get rid of sugar that had gotten into her eye. You let out a small laugh as you moved her flailing hands and wiped the remaining sugar off her face.

“What about Yeonjun?” Giselle offered and you gave her a confused look.

“What… about him?” Ningning looked at you and then back to Yeonjun’s three friends who were still starring.

In his own word Yeonjun focused on the hoop with a deep breath, visualizing the perfect arc of the ball as he got ready to shoot it through the air.

Suddenly, his confidence came crashing down as a familiar voice called out.

“Y/N! This one’s for you!”

Ningning and Winter both started laughing and you turned toward the court with a confused look to see Soobin waving his arms toward you to get your attention.

Yeonjun’s stance fell and he quickly turned toward Soobin, heart beating out of his chest.

“Hey— why the hell would you—?!”

Soobin snickered as he nudged Yeonjun back toward the starting point, “Sh! Hurry up!”

That nervousness creeped back up as Yeonjun prepared to take the shot. It certainly didn’t help that he could feel the weight of your gaze on him. Knowing you were watching seemed to put him in a rushed state and he wasted no time shooting.

With a flick of his wrist, he released the ball, sending it soaring towards the basket with all the confidence he could muster back up.

Unfortunately, as the ball left his fingertips, he realized with a sinking feeling that something was off and he made a mental note to choke Soobin out when they were out of your sight.

The ball veered off course, missing the mark by a wide margin and clattering off the backboard with a resounding thud.

Any childish hope of impressing you dashed in an instant and he refused to turn and face you as he turned completely the other way, eyes staring through the chain link fence and out at the lot beyond it.

Beomgyu pursed his lips as he attempted to stifle his laughter and Taehyun grit his teeth together.

“Oh, that’s not…”

Embarrassed, you buried your face into your hands with an audible groan not even having to look up to know that he missed the shot, Giselle’s laugh next to you was enough of an indicator.

Embarrassment flooded Yeonjun’s cheeks as he retrieved the ball, trying to shake off the disappointment and salvage what's left of his pride.

After his blank stare was torn away from the fence he attempted to laugh it off, making light of his missed shot as he prepared to try again.

Soobin stood awkwardly, long arms stuck to his sides as he laughed along with Yeonjun in an attempt to help soothe the tension. Kai looked up from his switch, seeing the glare behind Yeonjun’s eyes and laughed.

“You’re making it worse, hyung.”

“Well… she laughed?” Soobin offered.

“Her friends laughed, idiot.” Yeonjun countered.

Soobin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret at Yeonjun failing to live up to the expectations he'd set and he let out a long drawn sigh. ���You’re helpless.”

Yeonjun swatted at him, “me?! You set me up!”

The two’s bickering fell on deaf ears as Taehyun swiped the ball from Yeonjun’s hands and looked back at your group of friends.

Your hands fell from your face and Taehyun noticed a shy smile playing on your lips as your friends gushed about Yeonjun’s embarrassing moment.

The kitchen was bathed in warm, golden light as Yeonjun stood cluelessly, Soobin eagerly gathering ingredients to bake cookies.

Soobin turned from the cabinet and gave Yeonjun an annoyed look, “are you gonna help?”

“I would if I knew what we were doing.” Yeonjun argued as he cautiously moved around the counter, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

Soobin puffed out his cheeks for a moment as he stilled, placing the flour on the counter. “Cookies. Brownies? No— cookies.”

“Cookies?”

“Do you want to get a date with her or not?”

Yeonjun paused for a moment before the realization washed over him and he gave Soobin a confused look. “Remember what happened last time you tried to help?”

Soobin blinked a few times before throwing the rest of the ingredients on the counter and put his hands up in defeat. “I give up.”

As he went to walk away Yeonjun rolled his eyes, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “No! Clean up your mess.”

“My mess?” Soobin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yeonjun’s cheeks grew red and he groaned. Neither him or Soobin were particularly good at baking but the idea of trying seemed appealing, at least if it was for you.

The silence had Soobin chuckling and Yeonjun shook his head before turning back to the counter. “So… cookies.”

With a sense of determination, Yeonjun set to work, measuring out ingredients as Soobin preheated the oven.

Flour dusted the countertops, and the scent of vanilla extract lingered in the air, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

Occasionally, their community mates would wander in with curiosity or to fetch snacks for themselves. This was how Soobin found himself lost in conversation with Beomgyu as Yeonjun reached for the sugar and salt.

It was easy for him to find himself distracted as he imagined the look on your face when he gave you the cookies, hoping that they were to your liking.

Baking for someone was out of character for him and that much was obvious from how clumsy he was in the kitchen. It wasn’t that he was horrible but he certainly wasn’t the best, he much preferred to buy stuff rather than make it himself. Though he seemed convinced now that making them himself was the best way to make sure they were enough to showcase how he felt.

Unbeknownst to the distracted Yeonjun and Soobin, the granules cascading into the bowl weren’t the sweet, crystalline sugar he intended, but instead, the coarse, white grains of salt.

Oblivious to this mistake, Yeonjun continued to add ingredients, his mind consumed with other ideas to win you over and gain your attention in a more positive way.

With each stir of the spoon, the mixture began to take shape, the dough coming together in a smooth, glossy consistency. Yeonjun looked up at Soobin and Beomgyu who were locked into something the latter was showing on his phone as he scooped the dough onto the baking sheet, excitement building with each passing moment.

Yeonjun slid the tray into the oven as he excused himself for a few to go change, heart beating with excitement and the hope that you’ll savor the sweetness of his gesture.

Soobin agreed to wait for the cookies to finish as the older boy left, Beomgyu peeking into the oven with curiosity.

As the cookies baked, a faint scent wafted through the air. Beomgyu noted it wasn’t the enticing aroma of freshly baked treats, but instead, the unmistakable tang of salt.

“These for Kai or something?” Beomgyu asks, wondering if the boys were intending to pull a prank.

Confusion clouded Soobin’s mind as he furrowed his brow, unable to understand what he meant. “No? They’re for Y/N.”

Beomgyu’s mouth formed a quick ‘o’ as Soobin shoved him aside, pulling the tray from the oven. Yeonjun returned to see the golden-brown cookies on the counter and smiled.

“Nice! You want one Beomgyu?” The younger boy blinked for a moment, the other two’s obliviousness causing him to snicker as he shook his head.

“No, thanks.” Beomgyu reached behind Soobin, grabbing a bag of chips and waving them in front of the others as he quickly left with an amused look.

Soobin reached for a cookie and Yeonjun quickly smacked his hand away.

“No cookies for saboteurs.” He said firmly.

“Man…”

Of course, Yeonjun had considered giving them to you himself but unlike usual, he always found himself too tongue tied around you.

In the end, he decided to leave them at your seat during your last lecture. Even without sharing the class, your professor was quick to let him in due to her growing annoyance with his begging.

Not having much time to figure out the mystery of the cookies, you shoved them into your bag to investigate later. That was how you found yourself sat with your friends in a cafe nearby campus, cookies sat opened and untouched on the table.

Inside the small box was a scrap of paper that simply said ‘to Y/N, from Yeonjun! :)’

“Why would he make me… cookies?” You asked, head tilted slightly to the side in confusion.

“Seriously? You realize that he’s crazy obsessed with you right?” Jisung said with a look of amusement, swirling around the straw of his latte as he leaned into his hand. “You don’t know how many times Mark has complained about it.”

Chenle nodded, adjusting his sunglasses as he leaned back into his seat. “Right. Like, weirdly obsessed with you. It’s important to me that you know that, Y/N.” His voice was teasing and you rolled your eyes at his usual sarcasm.

You sat, staring down at the box of clumsily decorated cookies. Smiley faces and hearts messily drawn on them each made your chest flutter the slightest bit.

Unfortunately for you, the sweetness of the gesture was quickly overpowered by the complete confusion on your face when Jisung began coughing and spitting one of the cookies out. That was how you learned they were in fact, pact full of salt.

“Really? This is seeming like some weird joke…” your voice trailed off and Chenle snickered.

“Yeah, I just think he’s not very bright.”

Pausing for a moment, you nibbled on the straw between your teeth as you wondered if it really had been an accident rather than a joke. It was obvious that he put a bit of effort in, despite the ultimate failure the gesture had been.

Jisung rolled his eyes as he glared down at the box of cookies with a personal hatred burning in them. “What a waste of cookies…”

The library’s grand facade is bathed in the sunset as you tiredly make your way toward it to get some last minute studying in. Classes haven’t been very stressful as of late but you’ve found yourself growing increasingly distracted by a certain boy.

Multiple mishaps have led to him staying on your mind simply due to his strange behavior. Anytime you had thought about confronting him about it though, he seemed in a rush to get away from you.

Unknown to you, Yeonjun sat in the library with Beomgyu kicked back beside him loudly munching on a snack. Considering how the library attendant seemed to barely care about their job, the noise didn’t seem to be much of an issue at the moment.

“Why’re you so stressed? Just make the perfect playlist and write a charming one liner or something in the description— boom, Y/N falls in love with you and the two of you can make out for all of eternity.” He teased.

Yeonjun glared at him, shoving his feet off of the library desk. “Quiet down!” Beomgyu looked around to see the library was, as he expected, mostly barren. “As if it’s any kind of secret.”

“Whatever. And I’m not stressed, it’s just a playlist.” Beomgyu nodded, although it was clear from his expression that he didn’t believe him.

“Right. Considering how hopelessly in love with her you are, isn’t it weird that you don’t know her music taste?” Choosing to ignore the hard truth of his words, Yeonjun continued scrolling through his music library as he carefully selected each track.

Beomgyu noticed his meticulous attention to detail as Yeonjun scanned lyrics, taking out and adding songs as the moments passed by.

At the start he seemed to kick off strong, choosing songs that Beomgyu has heard in passing from Yeonjun’s own personal playlist from artists like Hanuel and Hojean.

The more he continued to try and curate the ‘perfect’ playlist though, his confidence in his own taste seemed to visibly wane as Beomgyu watched him replace his personal favorites with more popular songs.

Yeonjun chewed on his lip with his eyes narrowed, agonizing over whether each song was romantic enough or if it would resonate with you in the way he hoped.

It was when Beomgyu watched him replace 99% of the playlist with old Bruno Mars songs that he gave his older friend a deadpanned expression, deciding to take over.

“This is getting like… really corny, dude.”

In Yeonjun’s quest for perfection, he became paralyzed by indecision. The two spent hours of Beomgyu offering songs and Yeonjun agonizing over every choice, rearranging the playlist multiple times.

“There’s no hope for you. Just let me do it.” Beomgyu said with a sigh, hanging up his bag of chips as he and Yeonjun swapped seats.

Yeonjun watched in focus as Beomgyu added and deleted tracks, fighting the urge to comment on his choices and unable to shake the feeling that something is missing.

“There.” Beomgyu said after only a few moments, rolling out of the way for Yeonjun to look. “Take it or leave it. I’ve worked my magic.”

Yeonjun scrolled through for a few moments, thinking on it before beginning his edits.

Seeing this, Beomgyu groaned as his head dropped to the desk with a ‘thud’.

“Dude, it should not be this hard. You’re gonna stay single forever…” his muffled voice groaned.

“Shut up.” Yeonjun muttered.

After a few more moments, Yeonjun felt defeated. What should have been a quick and easy process was somehow becoming increasingly more complicated all because it was for you.

“Cigarettes after sex?” Your voice murmured quietly as you stared at the screen from behind Beomgyu, studying the tracks.

The title of the playlist had your heart stopping in your chest, only for the feeling to tighten as you read the description attached to it.

Yeonjun jumped at your voice and quickly snapped his laptop shut. Beomgyu rolled his head to the side, cheek pressed against the desk as he saw you leaning above him.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” His voice was tired and you looked down, giving him a small smile. “Hi, Gyu.”

There was a silence as Yeonjun stared at you like he had been caught doing something wrong and the small smile on your face stayed. “Hi, Yeonjun.”

Your voice was as sweet as ever and the close proximity had him feeling almost dizzy. Attempting to come to his senses, he cleared his throat and gave you his usual charming smile. “H-Hey, Y/N.”

Of course, his voice betrayed him and Beomgyu snickered.

Yeonjun kicked him underneath the desk and Beomgyu groaned, causing you to chuckle as you pulled away from them.

“Sorry for intruding, I came over to ask Beomgyu about something for photography but…” your voice trailed off for a moment as you pondered what to say next.

Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest as he wondered if you saw what he was making and if he needed to move across the globe out of embarrassment.

“Well anyway, it doesn’t matter.” You said, ultimately choosing to save Yeonjun from the embarrassment of calling out the playlists’ title.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” You said with a yawn, stretching as you stepped back. “Oh, bye Y/N.” Beomgyu said, voice uninterested and trailing off as he began to doze off against the table.

“Oh! By the way Yeonjun, you should send me one of your playlists sometime.” You said, a hint of playfulness in your voice as he gave you a dumbfounded look, muttering an incoherent goodbye.

Yeonjun stood in the flower shop, carefully selecting a bouquet of vibrant flowers, each bloom seemingly chosen with care and tied together with a delicate ribbon.

He hadn’t known if you’d pay much attention to detail or look into their meanings but he quickly found himself pulling out his phone with each option, making sure to look up the meaning of each specific flower just in case.

Yeonjun’s world almost seemed to shatter when he realized the yellow carnations in his hand were not, in fact, the best choice and they were quickly jammed back among the rest as he began to pace around.

Taehyun watched the ordeal from behind the counter and let out a sigh as he rang for assistance, his coworker clumsily poking his head out from the back in question.

“What’s up?” He asked.

Taehyun motioned toward Yeonjun, “my friend needs assistance. You mind tending up here for a bit?” He asked gently and the boy shook his head with a smile.

Knowing the front was taken care of, Taehyun made his way to Yeonjun with an amused look.

“You know when I told you to get her flowers, I didn’t mean come and tear up our displays.” He said half-heartedly.

“Right, you just meant come and make you more money.” Taehyun shrugged at that, knowing it was more-so a comment stemming from his frustrations.

Adjusting his glasses, Taehyun reached around and fixed up the bouquets that Yeonjun had messily discarded. Realizing the mess, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry, Taehyun.”

Taehyun’s gaze lingered on Yeonjun as he shifted under it, kicking at the ground in frustration. It was obvious that Yeonjun had been stressing himself out over making the right choice.

Despite his friends knowing about his little crush on you, Taehyun had noticed how seriously he had been taking everything when it came to you and couldn’t help but feel that sincerity stemmed from something much more serious.

Adjusting his glasses, he smiled and shook his head at him. “Give me a few minutes in the back, okay? Don’t mess up the rest of our displays.” Taehyun mused teasingly.

Cluelessly, Yeonjun nodded and followed him to wait at the counter as he went to make him a personalized bouquet. With a sigh, Yeonjun felt a slight weight being lifted off of his shoulders as he trusted Taehyun’s choices.

With a nervous flutter in his stomach, Yeonjun approached you at the picnic table where you sat, his heart pounding with anticipation.

As he opened his mouth to get your attention, you looked up at him from your phone with a knowing smile. You’d found that lately you’ve become increasingly aware whenever he was around, even searching for him wherever you’d went subconsciously.

“Hi, Yeonjun.” You said, giving him an expectant look as your gaze traveled to the bouquet of flowers he held.

His grip on them was tight as opposed to the delicacy of the flowers and it made you smile as you held back a laugh.

A combination of blue and violet flowers were tied together by a pink ribbon, the colors complimenting each other and harmonizing well.

“Y/N,” he started before clearing his throat again. This was a habit he picked up when around you, you’d noticed.

“These uh… they’re for you!” He said awkwardly, presenting you them with a goofy smile. His lack of tact made you chuckle as you took them from him.

The silence that followed, though, had a sinking feeling form in the pit of his stomach as he watched your eyes begin to water.

Yeonjun’s expression became clouded with confusion and concern, “do you not like the color? I-I honestly know nothing about flowers so, you can just throw them out if you want! It’s really no big deal, I was just thinking of you so— or, I thought you’d like them. Not that I was randomly thinking of you. Or— not that I don’t think of you, but…”

Yeonjun’s voice trailed off with a nervous laugh, hoping his rambling would cheer you up and relieve you of whatever pressure he seemed to suddenly place on you.

Quickly, you shook your head with a small smile as the tears fell. As you opened your mouth to protest, your nose twitched as you suddenly let out a sneeze.

It's then that he realized with dawning horror that you were allergic to the flowers— the last, ‘fool proof’ gift he had hoped would win you over.

Yeonjun’s heart sinks as he watches you struggle to suppress a sneeze, filled with regret at his thoughtless mistake.

“Sorry, Y/N.” He stammered out, gently taking the flowers from you with a helpless feeling as he watched your discomfort.

Even with your wordless protests he wondered if his friends had been right and he really was clueless.

With anyone else, flirting seemed to come so easily but with you, he wanted his efforts to really mean something.

Quickly he realized that getting caught up in the things his friends thought were romantic gestures were just his own stupid way of ruining everything in the end.

Yeonjun’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as he realized the gravity of his error. Another romantic gesture overshadowed by the unintended consequences of his actions.

He wondered if his constant errors had been some warning of your future— a tell tale sign of truth that was meant to signal to him that all he would do is let you down.

Caught up in his own thoughts, Yeonjun was pulled out of them as you smiled through watery eyes, gratitude shining through despite the discomfort.

“That’s sweet, Yeonjun.” A nervous smile made its way onto his face as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You added on and he realized that maybe, the gesture hadn’t been a total failure in the end.

“You’re cute when you sneeze.” He added jokingly and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t ruin the moment, Romeo. I can still accuse you of attempted assassination, you know.”

The flowers discarded on the ground, Yeonjun kneeled against the bench as the two of you talked for a few moments. A hint of a confession on the tip of his tongue before his phone went off suddenly, causing him to frown.

Regrettably he said his goodbye before rushing away to go help whoever had called for him, not without one last wave and charming smile.

When he turned back, the world beneath you kept spinning round and round like the plates in a circus act. Yet even with his new absence, you couldn’t leave Yeonjun behind.

No matter what kind of day you were having, he still scratched at the corner of your mind, like a cat begging to be let in.

The smile that creeped up on your face at the memory of him couldn’t be defeated. It was at that picnic table, hands covering the wide smile on your face that you had accepted defeat.

“Are you okay? You seem nervous lately.” Kai asked as he watched Yeonjun step onto his skateboard.

He pushed off with a confident stride, weaving through the concrete park with his eyes fixated on you from a distance.

Leaning against the concession stand, you chatted with your friend that Yeonjun couldn’t seem to remember the name of. Matty? Matthew?

His board caught on a rock he didn’t notice as he watched you laugh, eyes widening as he stumbled forward off of it. Kai followed his sight and clicked his tongue in acknowledgement.

“I’m trying to figure out how to tell Y/N how I feel.” He said as if it weren’t obvious to everyone around him. Despite that, Kai nodded.

“I mean— she seems open to talking to me now after the showcase incident so that’s good news, right?” Yeonjun’s tone was hopeful and Kai’s lips twitched up in a smile.

“Oh, actually…” Kai held the can in his hands away from him as the metal snapped, carbonation bubbling to the top. “I passed her and some of her friends in the quad the other day and she asked me for your number.”

Yeonjun practically threw himself onto the ground at that as he stumbled over his board once more, “she what?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kai laughed, shrugging. “Slipped my mind.” His voice was teasing, though and Yeonjun furrowed his eyebrows at that.

Sensing his apprehension, Kai sighed. “She asked me not to tell you.” He said simply.

“Well, you failed.” This time, Kai pouted at him.

“Whatever, you would have found out anyways. Hasn’t she texted you yet?”

“Well if she did, I would have known that you gave her my number, wouldn’t I?”

“Oh,” Kai paused before nodding. “Fair point.”

“I know that you want it to be special but why don’t you just try being yourself? You know, tell her how she makes you feel without overthinking it.” The younger boy offered, sliding his board back and forth with his foot as he took a break.

“It worked for everyone else you dated, somehow.” He added on with a cute tone as he reached forward, pinching him.

Yeonjun swatted his hand away from him and looked back to the concession stand. Leaning against it, you were facing his way this time as if you’d known he was there all along.

When your eyes met you gave him a kind smile, waving at the two of them. Kai waved back as Yeonjun froze and for the moment, he almost thought you were looking for him.

Yeonjun found himself light-headed with the same stupid determination and sudden desire to impress as he stepped onto his skateboard again.

As Yeonjun approached, he decided to show off a trick he and Kai had been practicing. It wasn’t anything too big, just a jump over the small obstacles littered around the park.

With a burst of speed, he launched himself into the air, heart pounding with anticipation. But just as he reached the peak of his jump, his foot slipped off the board, sending him tumbling to the ground in another display of clumsiness.

You gasped in surprise, eyes widening in concern as Kai grimaced, rushing over to help him. Matthew placed the snacks you’d bought on the counter next to you and cringed, “ouch. At least he tried?” He laughed before noticing your lips pressed into a firm frown.

“You should go check on him, Y/N. Make sure he didn’t break any bones or concuss himself?” He said teasingly as he turned, placing a cold can on ice tea on the counter next to your bottle of water.

A look of confusion played on your face and Matthew rolled his eyes, shoving the mess of items into your arms. You stuck out your tongue at him in annoyance before turning back toward Yeonjun.

The embarrassment could have been bearable if he hadn’t seen you walking directly toward him.

Yeonjun rarely felt embarrassed, he never felt like anything mattered enough to worry about in the grand scheme of things. Of course, this changed with you and that embarrassment became a part of his daily routine.

“The universe has got to be against you,” Kai said as he gave Yeonjun an empathetic look and the older boy just laughed it off.

At the end of the day, as embarrassing as that had been, you never seemed to shy away from his embarrassing displays before.

The crinkle of bags dropping next to him alerted Yeonjun of your presence as you kneeled down with a sympathetic smile, cold iced tea in hand.

Yeonjun’s hand that had been soothing his busted ankle fell and he gave you a toothy grin. “Y/N, what a… coincidence!”

You rolled your eyes at this, reaching out and pressing the can of cold iced tea against his red ankle. Yeonjun’s cheeks flushed at this and he looked up again to see you.

“Since your guardian angel is here, looks like it’s my cue to go.” Kai said with a teasing tone, shooting you a knowing smile. “Bye, Y/N~”

A laugh escaped you and you shook your head as Kai pushed himself off on his own board. Yeonjun’s constant effort to impress you lingered in your mind, each attempt seemingly more desperate than the last.

Despite these failed attempts though, Yeonjun became the one constant stuck in your mind. Before he started these grand displays, you found yourself dreading the idea of dating.

You couldn’t be sure what the reasons were for these attempts at first but after the first two, it had became obvious that he was interested in you.

It made you laugh at how determined he was to get your attention, almost like he had blinded himself, never seeming to realize that he had already gotten it.

The last thing you wanted was to get caught up with someone who was looking for a relationship for the wrong reasons. Countless times you found yourself jaded after failed talking stages.

Funnily enough, Yeonjun’s constant attempts to win your affection seemed to have you wrapped around his finger similarly to how he was around yours.

“At least you tried.” You said, echoeing Matthew’s teasing. Yeonjun’s wide grin never left as you moved from on your knees to sit down properly next to him.

His gaze followed you like an enamored kitten and you found yourself suddenly feeling shy under it. “You’re always there at my worst moments.” He said.

“Don’t worry, it’s always just as endearing.” You nudged him gently with your shoulder and he rolled his eyes this time.

“Let me take you on a date, then? I’ll make sure it’s one of your best.” This time, you were the one who grew embarrassed as he leaned in close.

His eyes peered up at you with curiosity as you tried to avoid his gaze. You gently pushed him away with a shy laugh and he grabbed your hand in his, holding it in its’ place against his cheek.

“I’m sure it will be since it’s with you.” And like what seemed like second nature after all this time, his breath caught in his throat. The wind blowing against the both of you left him unfazed compared to those words.

Overtime as he invaded your life, you found how perfectly he seemed to fit like a perfect piece of the puzzle.

Because of Yeonjun, you found yourself learning that love was about hands gripping the edge of the world and letting go, one finger at a time.

Each bated breath, holding it in before the drop came. It was unfamiliar and scary for your first time, but soon you’d get used to the motion; the headlong dive into the deep.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name like a prayer, his voice heavy with all the hope of heaven. Your hand remained still against his cheek only for a moment as his grip on it loosened.

Nervously, you pulled your hand from his against his face, only to take his in your own and gently lock your fingers together. His gaze never left your face as he memorized the patterns of your skin, your own eyes focused down at your hands.

Any anxieties from long before were let go as you thought about him and how recklessly he had thrown himself into it, all for you.

Unabashedly, you wanted to love like he did. So you decided to go with it.

Tracing the lines of his palm, you drew a map to salvation in your mind. After what felt like too long of meaningless encounters and empty promises it seemed that the world led you right to each other.

The last thing that you wanted was to fall for someone disingenuous and find yourself distraught over someone who wasn’t worth it.

Fortunately for you, Yeonjun seemed to hear the knock of your heart and answer it like his calling.

songs for Y/N. ♡

you only get one chance to fall in love with your heart still whole, thank you for making the fall that much sweeter. ;)

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[yamikawas]

Yoomtah kidnapped that anon and is currently torturing them, so thats why you dont have her at this moment. Shes almost done though! Then you can cuddle to your hearts content!

SO TRUE SO CUTE OF HER I LOVE HER SO MUCH<<333<3<3<3<<3333<3<<3<3<3<<<3<33I WOULD LIKE TO WATCH HER KILL THEM IF SHE DOESNT MIND I JUST LOVE HER SO MUCH I LOVE WHEN SHE KILLS FOR ME I LOVE EVERYTHING ABT HER SHES SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MY BELOVED

[euphoriyoongi]

🎬Too Far Gone || kth

🎬 Take 01

🎬Summary:

Both of you are top Stars acting in the newest hit drama. Taehyung plays the second lead—with whom you have much more chemistry with instead of the first lead. Was it because you slept with each other? Or is it your growing feelings?

🎬Pairing: actor! Taehyung x actress! Reader x Seokjin

🎬Word count: 2.7k

🎬Warnings: (kind of)rough sex, language

Prev. Story: Drugs // pjm

Too Far Gone Masterlist

You didn’t know what you were getting into by becoming an actress.

Sure, you were blessed with the undying love of millions of people. You also had a wide range of luxury cars and a penthouse apartment away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Seoul.

But little did you know that being watched twenty-four-seven could affect you so significantly. Well, more than you imagined, at least.

And with the freedom of money and beauty, you had a history of sleeping with the sexiest men.

From top actors to even idols, as long as they were good in bed and had a pretty face, you were smitten. But only for the night, that is.

Before your fame, you had a boyfriend for nearly six years. You believed he was everything you ever wanted, but when you discovered he was cheating on you with your best friend at the time, you broke down and keyed his car.

That left you at the police station with mascara dripping down your cheeks as you kept saying, “that fucker deserved it.”

Luckily nothing ended up on your permanent record, but the scars of that relationship were left on your heart just like the scratch on his car.

Just like that, you were never in a relationship again. You found fame after a recruiter for an entertainment company discovered your talent at one of the plays you did in college. They swooped you in, and you transformed into one of the greatest actresses in Korea.

Being the most desired woman came with flaws. You couldn’t go to your favorite restaurants anymore, and the only part of you in them was the posters you did to promote soju that hung on their walls.

You also seemed to have someone always following your every move. There were articles about you bringing different men to hotels—or vice versa—all over the internet, but you didn’t care. Maybe you should’ve realized how toxic this was to you, but all you wanted was something to ease the hole in your heart, even if that meant sex. Maybe one day you’ll find someone, but until then, you carried on with your pleasure.

And that one day you met Kim Taehyung, you knew there was something else there other than lust and sweat.

As you stood face to face with the man who did so many dirty things to you the week before, your mouth nearly dropped to the floor.

“Alright Miss y/n, this is Kim Taehyung.” The director stated but all you heard was mumbling. He stared at you with the same intensity, as if he was having flashbacks of tossing you around the hotel room’s bed. “He’s going to be playing the second lead, Hajun.”

For a second there, you completely forgot you were in the presence of your boss and a few other crew members. Today was the day of the character photo shoot, and you were sitting down in your makeup chair, waiting for it to start.

The first lead was Kim Seokjin. He’s known for being more of a model than anything, but has acted in a few hit dramas. You’ve never worked with him before, but you were nervous to be in quite intimate scenes with him.

“Oh!” You shook yourself out of your funk and stood up to bow. Even if you had seen every part of him head to toe, it was only right to show respect. “It’s nice to meet you.” You said and bowed, to which he quirked an eyebrow at your flushed cheeks.

He licked his lips and you shivered, remembering where that tongue has been. “I’m Taehyung, I don’t think you got my name last time we met.” He smirked, but maintained his distance from you.

You ran a hand through your hair to fix it and looked at his expression, which reminded you of the minute you tore his clothes off of his body.

You thought back on that day now, daydreaming as if people weren’t around.

It was late at night, and you were at a Halloween party at the club with one of your fellow actress friends. With a few drinks in your system, it wasn’t enough to completely blank your mind, but it was enough for you to get rebellious.

The minute you laid your eyes on Taehyung was when you saw him standing in the corner of the room, a cigarette in his hand and a drink in the other. Something about that drew you in, and it made you walk towards him.

The music blasted loudly, some western Halloween tunes filling the air as well as the smoke from his cigarette. He intoxicated you just like the alcohol, and when you stood face to face with him, he dragged on the cigarette and blew it away from your face.

His voice rumbled deep. “What’s your motive?” He asked simply, licking the taste of alcohol off his lips.

You were taken aback, and crossed your arms across your chest. “My motive?”

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah. You obviously came over here for a reason.” He shrugged, and licked his lips again. Oh god, he definitely was doing that on purpose. “So what is it?” His eyes then raked down your have naked body, as you were dressed as a devil.

Your dress was short and all black reaching mid thigh, and the tights that dawned your legs were ripped it looked like something tore you up. Dark obsidian horns rested on top of your hair, making you look just as evil as the glint in your eyes.

He smirked, and met your gaze. You subconsciously reached down at the hem of your dress to pull it down, but it wouldn’t budge. “I think you know what it is.”

“I don’t know, y/n, I’ll have to hear it from your mouth.” He shrugged, his dark eyes still browsing your body. “Or your body. You choose.”

You didn’t know this man, but everything in you was telling you to jump his bones. He was dressed in all black too, with a witch hat on top of his head. You tried to brush off his comment. “What are you, a witch?” You questioned, tilting your head at him as you took a step closer.

He watched as you moved. He took a gulp, looking a bit nervous, but didn’t sound like it. “Yes, but it seems like you’re the witch.”

You took another step, your platform boots hitting his shoes. “Ah, what’s that supposed to mean?” You tilted your head up towards him and lifted your hand up to grab his hat.

With what it felt like a hundred people dancing around you, it didn’t affect your focus on him. With the dark glimpse he was shooting into your eyes and the lit cigarette that was burning away in his hand, it was like he was the only person in the room.

Something was burning inside you, and it wasn’t just lust. He pulled you in so fast, you felt an emotion in your heart that was much different than all of the other times a man caught your eye.

“This is going to sound cheesy.” His dark brown hair fell over his eye as he leaned towards you. “But you must’ve put a spell on me.”

You kept your laugh in since it was overcome by desire. You took the hat off his head and your other hand gripped at his waist, wrapping your fingers around his shirt. You didn’t say anything though, and just let go of him to walk towards the back exit. When you realized he wasn’t following you turned around to see his mouth slightly agape. You nodded your head towards the door with a smirk, and he finally took a step to follow you.

Fast forward to sneaking by paparazzi and fans, you find yourselves tossed in the back of a cab, making out aggressively. Teeth clashing and clothes begging to be taken off, his hands decide to explore your body as well as his tongue.

His taste was like ecstasy that you couldn’t get enough of. The pressure of his hands on your body sent your mind spiraling in thoughts about how he would feel inside of you, and you wanted to find out more than anything.

You stumble into the elevator of the hotel you were staying at for the time being, making it shake as he tossed you into the wall. As the doors closed and you didn’t press the bottom for the floor, the elevator stood stationary until you broke away from his intoxication for just a second to press the number.

You find your way to the room, stumbling through the door and kicking off your shoes. He then slammed you into the wall, and lifted you up then and held you to his body, gripping the back of your exposed thighs. You wanted him so bad, even if you didn’t know his name.

He tossed you onto the bed with one swift motion and slides his shirt off, undoing his belt and taking his pants off too. The room was still pitch-black as it was nearing midnight, and you reached to pull the tight dress off your body, as well as your tights.

He groaned with red eyes and slid his body on too of you, ripping the dress right off your body. You would’ve been mad if it was anyone else, but you didn’t care. He was too electrifying, too alluring. Every part of you craved his touch. His big hands grasped onto your hips tightly, rocking them up to hit his. He growled in your ear and bit it, making you moan in pleasure.

You moaned loudly, begging for him to enter you. He teased you for a bit, his hips buckling against yours as he hovered on top of you. You grabbed his curly brown hair and spun it around your fingers, making him wince in pleasurable pain. “Oh, y/n.” He moaned, and just as he was about to enter you, his lips met yours softly this time, like he was kissing someone he loved. That wasn’t the case, but it definitely wasn’t just lust.

As he thrusted into you with deep movements, his hands gripped your neck and you stared into the dark pits of his eyes, wincing. You were a sucker for rough sex, and you wondered if he knew that. You didn’t tell him your name, and he already knew it.

Your lips met his neck and his teeth bit into your hair, unable to hold his excitement in as you grazed your hands up his back. You had a sudden thought about losing his hat. You broke apart from him for a second, your breathing heavy. “Wait, your hat—“

“I don’t give a fuck about a stupid hat right now.” He growled into your ear, and then penetrated powerfully into you again, and you felt every part of him inside you. He sucked on your collarbone while he moaned, and you thought that was the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard next to the way he moaned your name.

Everything about him made you never want this to end. But as he came, you dug your nails into his shoulder, holding him tightly as he—

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” The director waved a hand in front of your blank stare. “Are you—is she okay?”

Taehyung just stood there with a smirk, knowing her thoughts were the same as his. He shrugged with a quirk of the eyebrow.

You shook the dirty thoughts away. “Yes, I’m sorry. Got a bit distracted there.”

“Okay okay!” The director clapped loudly, causing the whole room to look at him. “Let’s start the shoot. We’ll start with the main cast.”

He signaled you to stand from your seat, and you walked over to the set for the photo shoot with Taehyung walking close behind you, making you shiver.

“Seokjin! Let’s go.” The director called out, and in came a beautiful man who also took your breath away.

Seokjin seemed to be able to woo anyone in is proximity. He had some sort of Midas touch, and everything her would touch seemed to turn to gold. He was named the sexiest man a few times, but now that she remembered, Kim Taehyung was the most recent one.

Here you were, surrounded by the two sexiest men in the world. A girl could dream, huh.

“Sorry, the makeup artist took a bit long.” His smile could kill, and he approached you in the midst of the set. He turned to you and raised his eyebrows. “Ready?”

You already met him at the table reading. Taehyung wasn’t there, which is why it startled you so much to see him standing in front of you.

You smiled at Seokjin and nodded, not glancing to the side to see Taehyung standing there glaring at jin. “Yes, let’s get started.”

You both sat down on the couch that was in front of the cameras and sat as close as you could to each other. He was very attractive indeed, but you couldn’t help but notice Taehyung watching you with his arms crossed over his chest. You suddenly had the thought of making the man jealous, but you didn’t even have to try, he was jealous by just looking at you standing near Seokjin.

As the photographer positioned you to sit on Jin’s lap, you smirked at Taehyung with a glimmer in your eyes. You rested your hands on Jin’s broad shoulders and he turned to face you, his lips just centimeters away from yours. You felt nothing, but you couldn’t let Taehyung think that.

Jin gripped your waist with his one hand and rested his other hand against the back of the couch. His shirt was barely buttoned and your hair was messy, almost like you were about to fuck. You looked graceful though, and couldn’t help but smirk as you noticed Taehyung turn away.

After a few shots and different positions, it was time for the photos with the second lead. Taehyung slowly but confidently walked over towards you.

This time, the set was a window frame. It was hinting at a scene from the upcoming drama, in which you and Hajun—or Taehyung—share an intimate moment together.

“Okay, can you guys make your way to the window, please?” The photographer asked as he flipped through the pictures in his camera.

You moved to the window sill and Taehyung was close, you could feel the hot breaths just like that night.

You shut the thoughts out of your mind and listened to the director as he told you what you were going to be doing. And just as he was told, Taehyung gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the sill, the photographer’s camera clicking fast just like your heart. His face was closer than Seokjin’s was, and you were dying to pull him by the collar and attack his lips.

When you noticed the deep look in Taehyung’s eyes, your gaze softened and you lifted a hand up to run through his silky hair. It wasn’t scripted, but you went for it anyway.

Your lips neared each other and you heard a few “oos and ahs” from the staff. Your chemistry was undeniable, and you knew it. His fingers tightened onto your jeans belt loop and he bit the corner of his lip, keeping himself calm before he got turned on by just the look of you.

“Alright! That was great.” The director yelled excitedly and you stayed in Taehyung’s arms. He didn’t let go yet, and your hands still stayed in his hair. “Guys? We have to do more shoots.”

That broke you apart pretty quickly, and you both distanced yourself as far as you could with a few awkward coughs. Seokjin stood with a smirk on his lips, knowing exactly what was going on.

And he knew that if their chemistry continued that passionate, the drama’s ratings would go down.

He needed to make sure you were attracted to him and only him.

And he was going to do whatever it takes.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, coercion, manipulation, trauma, sextoy, recording, anal.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: It was close but y’all wanted more Birch!Sam so here we go. This one is... porn. Let’s be honest lmao.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Come on in, sit right down

💀💀💀

It was a pain you’d never felt before. It was more than physical, it was deep, it was like part of you was missing. Something taken from you. More than just that outdated concept of purity that you never bought into, more so your autonomy. You never felt very in control of your life, trapped in the small town with dreams but now your life was completely out of your grasp.

Sam left late, some time after midnight. It didn’t matter, you still felt him inside of you. You tried to rinse him off of you, out of you, but the shower only left you cold and hollow. You gave up on sleep just after five in the morning and you typed in a trance, barely thinking as your fingers fluttered over the keyboard.

Hours passed like days and you descended as you heard your nan below, the clink of her heavy cast iron pot on the stove. She cooked her oatmeal in it and it was heavy enough to hammer back in the loose floorboard in front of the fridge. She offered you some as you entered the kitchen and you sat at the table with a sigh.

“Is that man coming back?” she asked.

You tilted your head at her as she put a bowl in front of you and the bag of sugar just for you. You sprinkled the brown granules over your oatmeal and added milk, “you looking forward to it?”

“The only reason I didn’t spray Lysol in his eyes was because of you, girly,” she sat heavy with the jar of artificial sugar and the little cinnamon container, “you know I’d do anything to keep you safe even if you’re too dumb for your own good.”

You nodded and scooped up the thick oatmeal. You pushed your tongue through the oats and said nothing.

“I told you to stay away from that bar,” she huffed. The crotchety old lady was back.

“You seemed happy enough about the pie and wine,” you shrugged.

“You think I don’t know his kind. I’m an old lady, that won’t keep him from cracking my skull like poor old Mikey Rae,” she tutted, “that was the first biker I fucked with.”

“Nan,” you gasped at her language.

“Well, you’re an adult now. Gonna have to grow up quick if you messin’ with those boys,” she pointed her spoon at you, “but you say the word and I’ll twist his balls off. Being old only means I gotta be patient.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. You knew she was serious and you realised then that it was all a show. A cautious act that you’d mirrored for her own sake. But this was a problem you had to deal with yourself. The one thing you couldn’t live with was bringing harm to the woman who raised you.

“No ball twisting, nan,” you shook your head, “alright?”

“For now,” she returned, “but you be careful, girly. You’re in deep enough.”

“I know,” you bit the edge of your lip, “nan?”

“Mmm,” she grumbled as she swallowed.

“Mikey Ray, if he was one of them, who bashed him?” you asked.

“The second one, Colin,” she frowned, “cocky bugger, took what he wanted… until he got what he couldn’t handle.”

“And what happened to him?”

It was the most your nan ever told you about those days, more inclined to talk about her hippy festivals and protest arrests.

“I twisted his balls off,” she snickered, “in a manner of speaking.”

You drew your brows together as you watched her take another bite and she opened the pocket book of crosswords she kept on the table.

“In a manner of speaking?” you wondered.

“I plead the fifth,” she took the pencil from between the pages and adjusted her thick glasses, “but he wasn’t around to cause me any trouble.”

You shoved another spoonful into your mouth and sat back. You always thought your nan was a tough old bitch, you couldn’t imagine what she was like when she was your age.

💀

Sam showed up just after noon. You weren’t surprised but you weren’t happy either. You were only thankful he came in the back. You didn’t need Nan following through on her threats and you would rather she didn’t know about the visit. If you were fortunate, she didn’t notice him for her knitting.

He knocked on your door and you unlocked it. He made no move to enter as he twirled your phone between his fingers.

“Charged it last night,” he smiled, “thought we could have some more fun.”

“I’m working,” you said quietly.

“Did I ask?” his lips straightened and he tilted his head, “and it’s about time you came over. Kind feels off with the old lady just on the other side of the wall.” You winced at the memory of the night before. He noticed and chuckled. “Kinda hot too but… still,” he mused.

“You can’t come back later?” you crossed your arms.

“You were so good last night,” he said, “I don’t like this little game you’re playing so don’t make me give the old lady a show. Let’s go.”

You dropped your arms and grabbed your thinner jacket from the back of your chair and shoved your feet into your zip up Martens. He waited with his arm across the open door and you stepped past him as his other hand went to your ass and squeezed. He closed the door and followed you down the wooden steps.

The snow wasn’t as deep as the first fall and you crunched through to the sidewalk. He placed his arm over your shoulders as he ushered you along to the main road. You passed The Asp and cut through the lot as he waved to other members of the club.

“I talked to Bucky, let him know you won’t be an issue any longer,” he said, “right?”

“Right,” you echoed and hugged yourself against the bitter air.

“Aw, honey, don’t worry, we’re about to get you warmed up,” he led you down another side street and up the paved walk of a pale blue house, “this is my place, Chez, uh, Wilson.”

He let you inside and nudged you further in as he followed. You slid out of your boots and he helped you out of your jacket. His impatience showed as he unzipped his coat and tore off his own boots. He took out your phone and grinned.

“Today,” he held it up, “you can get this back… if you earn it.”

You stared at him and picked at the hem of your shirt. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers and he licked his lips.

“Why yes, you can take that off, that’s a great start,” he purred, “all of it.”

You clenched your teeth and gripped the fabric nervously. He shouldered past you and pointed across the front room.

“You can go wait for me in there,” he said, “I’ll be a couple.”

You nodded and made to pass him but he stopped you before you could enter the living room. The place was cozy even if you didn’t want to be there. He bent and turned your face up to kiss you sloppily. He tapped your ass again as he urged you onward.

“Gotta loosen you up,” he taunted, “in more ways than one.”

You continued across the room if only to get away from him, even if it wouldn't be for long. You pushed past the painted door and entered the bedroom. The wall was hung with a large framed diagram of a Harley and another of a bike engine. There was a large poster for the Godfather and a Marvin Gaye album leaned against a retro player. The bed was made and the carpet freshly vacuumed.

You went to the dresser and looked over the dog tags that hung from a miniature statue of David. You looked up at the large mirror over the dresser and you looked as scared as you felt. You gulped down your nerves as he entered and looked away from your reflection.

He had a stool in hand and kicked the door closed. He placed it between the bed and the dresser. He kept his hands on the top and his chest flexed beneath his grey henley. He watched you knowingly and tutted.

“You’re not naked,” he said, “don’t you want this back?”

He let go of the stool and revealed your phone once more. You murmured and lifted your shirt slowly. He went to the dresser and unfolded a small metal tripod and affixed the cell to it. He angled it then slid out the top drawer. You scoffed as he turned around with a large suction dildo and stuck it to the top of the stool, your hands frozen on your open fly.

“Um, what the hell?” you sputtered.

“I think you know what the hell but I’m more than happy to give direction,” he wiggled the dildo and let it wobble as he pulled away.

You gaped at it. You couldn’t fit that whole thing in you. How were you even supposed to get yourself onto that?

“Honey, quit stalling,” he warned as he put his hands on his hips. You blinked at him and scowled, “or we can make a special post for TikTok… but I think it might be against their terms of service.”

You glanced away and pushed down your jeans. You let your socks crumple in the ankles and stood to unhook your bra. He hummed as he moved to lean against the wall beside the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. You hesitated before you shimmied out of your panties, shying away as you eyed the stool.

“Oh,” he pushed away from the wall and reached into the drawer again. He tossed you a tube and you caught it. Lubricant. “You’re gonna wanna get some of that on there.”

You inhaled deeply and flipped open the cap. You cringed as you hovered the bottle over the tip of the dildo and squirted it onto the silicone. You spread it down the length of the toy and your hand shook. You felt him watching you as embarrassment burned through you.

You finished and capped the lube and set it on the dresser. He nodded to the toy and lifted a brow. You hid your discomfort and approached the stool. You stepped up onto the crossbar and clung to the edge of the seat as you brought your knee up. You felt as if it would all topple as you brought your other leg up.

You shuddered as you felt the tip against your cunt and you reached unsteadily between your legs. You rubbed the head of the toy against your folds to spread the lube and peeked over at Sam.

“Go on,” he ordered, “if you can get that whole thing inside you, I’ll give you your phone back.”

You gripped the toy and pushed it back to your entrance. You lowered yourself a little so it stretched you just slightly. You scrunched your nose at the discomfort and slowly eased further onto it. You got halfway and stopped as you gasped. Your fingers curled around the seat and the toy.

“You’re doing good, honey,” his voice was smoky and you looked at yourself in the mirror. The phone blocked the bottom half of the toy but you could see your cunt around the top.

You bent your knees further and groaned as your walls strained around the dildo. Your eyes watered as it hit your cervix and you arched your back to take it as deep as you could. You cried out as you reached the base.

“Whoa, you really did it,” he mused, “fuck, you look good all stretched out.”

You whimpered and adjusted your legs as you tried not to slip.

“Well, you know what to do,” he motioned up and down with his fingers.

“Please,” you breathed, “I did--”

“Not done yet,” he said pointedly.

You huffed and lifted yourself carefully. You pushed back down and let out a moan as the toy grazed your walls. The fullness was overwhelming, a painful pressure laced with pleasure. You rocked your hips as you moved on your knees and gripped the edge of the stool, mindful not to shake the stool too much.

You closed your eyes as your breath hitched. You needed more. The toy could only do so much as your clit thrummed and the wetness spread down your thighs.

“Mmmm,” Sam came around you and snaked his arm down your front. He pushed his fingers between your swollen folds and circled your bud, “you like that, don’t you, honey?”

You whined as your nerves sparked at his fingertips and you sped up. He planted his foot on the crossbar to keep the stool from tipping and you rode out your orgasm as his touch spurred you on.

“Ah, fuck,” he pressed against your back, “I’m so fucking hard.”

You panted and opened your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror but quickly shied away. You were weak, so weak.

He stepped around you and reached for the lube. You watched him as you didn’t move from atop the toy and he rounded you again. He drizzled the lube between your cheeks and flung the lube away. He pushed his fingers along your ass and lingered on your tight ring. You winced and tried to lift yourself off the dildo.

He caught your shoulder and held you down.

“Again,” he ordered.

You glanced at him in the mirror and he gave you a stern look as his fingers tightened around your shoulder. You held your breath and began to fuck the toy again. He nuzzled the back of your head and poked against your ass until his finger slid inside. You cried out and his hand went to your neck as he urged you on.

“Ah, honey,” he whispered against your hair.

He drew his finger in and out of your ass as a burning pressure seared through you and added to that in your cunt. 

“You can touch yourself,” he uttered as his fiery breath encircled you.

You did so without thinking. He pushed another finger into you and a squeak escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but delight in how the sensations mingled and bloomed to a new climax. He sped up in time with your hips and your legs shook as you came in a series of strangled mewls.

He kept on until you slowed to catch your breath. He slipped his fingers out of you and your head lolled as he removed his hand from your neck. You heard his zipper and as you looked back, his hand stretched across the back of your head and turned it straight. He bent so his head was next to yours and grasped your chin as he made you look at him in the mirror.

“One more time, honey,” he pulled his dick out and his tip brushed along your ass.

You tried to lift yourself off the toy but he hooked his arm around your middle and kept you on it.

“Sam, no, please,” you begged, “I can’t--”

“You can handle it all, honey,” he purred, “I know you can.”

His tip pressed to your ring as he forced you down on the toy. You exclaimed and he pushed until you stretched around the head of his cock. You gritted your teeth and threw your head back against his shoulder. 

He pulled back and pushed in again. He got deeper with each slow thrust, an inch at a time, until you were filled by him and the toy. Your eyes welled and the tears trickled down your cheeks as you held onto the stool and grunted through each tilt of his hips.

He trailed his hand down between your legs and spread your folds as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. He moved you against him and on the toy. He pushed into as the dildo reached its limit and your voice grew louder and louder. 

Through the agony, you couldn’t help but feel the unyielding tingle in your core and it crawled down your thighs and up your spine. The stool rocked with his motion but he kept you flush to him as he fucked you from behind. Your legs slipped over the side of the seat and you were impaled on the toy.

He didn’t let up as you gasped and gulped, whining as your cunt twitched around the silicone and you came as you reached back to scratch at his open jeans. He rutted into you without relent as he kneaded your thighs and his breath seared down your flesh.

“Ah, honey,” he muttered through his delighted groans, “goddamn, god-- shit, I’m gonna fill you up.”

He slammed into you as deep as he could and you felt him burst. He gave several long thrusts as rode out his orgasm and groaned. When he stilled he leaned against you and sighed.

“You can have the phone back,” he rasped as he caressed your thigh, “tomorrow.”

[lilallama]

Since I loved the one you did for me. Can I request a continuation to it? Like the reader brings him home bmand everything is great but after a few months neighborhood pets are coming up missing and the reader finds out or something?

Early Sunrise

Word Count; 2.1k

!!TW!! This Series contains themes of gore, obsessive behaviour, violence, murder and societal injustice

》 Prologue; Düstern 《

》 First; Frühdämmer 《

"Another one?" Y/n looked at the Missing Poster which hung up on the tree outside their neighbour's house (the picture displayed a small well groomed cat with grey fur. 》 Prince Winters - british shorthair - two and a half years old - Was last seen in the owners backyard - please call this number if you have any information: X X X X - X X X X X X 《). The [gender] sighed in pity before turning to walk to their door. As they opened it they happily expected their small Guinea Pig Hybrid, Hoseok, to run into their arms. But that didn't happen. His fluffy locks were nowhere in sight. Worried that something might have happened Y/n searched the mansion. He wasn't in their room (he insisted on staying with them because he was too scared to sleep alone at night), he wasn't in any of the four bathrooms, not in the kitchen, not in the front hall, not in their living room. They were starting to panic, their poor, sweet baby was gone. But then they heard someone giggle outside in the garden. With rushed steps they ventured into the garden and let out a relieved sigh, only for that sigh to turn into a half chocked gasp as Hoseok turned around.

"Hoseok.., what is that!?" On the floor infront of the Hybrid layed something mangled and bloody. It's body was distorted, limbs torn off, milky eyes bulging out if it's sockets with it's head twisted in an unnerving angle. The sight was horrific, grotesque and truly nauseating. "Oh," Hoseok said in with his innocent smile which was surrounded by dried up blood, "remember Mrs. Winters' cat? I played with it." Despite the sweet smile his eyes held something menacing, something sick and twisted that Y/n was terrified of. They looked big and empty, like emotionless voids staring right through them. If they could have the choice to claim this a disturbing nightmare, they would. But they knew, they would have to face this. Y/n's previous scared expression turned into one of determination, "Hoseok, whipe that off your face and get in the car, right now."

The drive was tortuously silent, the only sound coming from the radio ("And now we present to you our 90's Pop Songs marathon. Starting of with the 90's Queen, Britney Spears with 'Baby one more time' "). Hoseok hadn't dare move throughout the whole time spend in the car. His only action; trying to make himself as small as possible to escape the mind numbing tension that filled the car. What if Y/n would send him back to the shelter? That thought had always kept him up at night. They were the only one he had, they couldn't just abandon him, right? > But what if they did < whispered the voice in the back of his mind, > What if you'll never see them again? You can't let that happen. < he started shaking violently > Just take the wheel and drive off the road. Kill them, then they'll never leave you. <. The voice got louder as he cowered in the back seat, eyes pressed shut and mouth chanting "No no no no no no no-". But Y/n didn't pay the quivering Hybrid any mind, all they could think of was, that their Hybrid needs help, immediately. Clearly the mistreatment he was put through with his past owners (what mistreatment?) took a toll on his sanity. The poor sunshine needs help. So they hurried towards the next Hybrid Psychiatrist hoping it'll magically rid Hoseok of his tendencies.

"Violent tendencies?" The pair sat infront of the Psychiatrist, Mr. Bluestone, a kind hispanic man in his mid 50's. "Could you elaborate what exactly that would mean? Does he get into fights often or perhaps bites?" They bashfully scratch their neck while looking over at Hoseok. "Not really. He is more... more..," they leaned forward and whispered, "gory." Bluestone looked intrigued by that as he shuffled in his seat slightly. "How so? What does that mean, L/n?" The Hybrid nervously watched the conversation going on, his eyes darkened as his owner leaned closer. His nose twitched and he started looking around the room to try and distract himself from the dread he felt. (The white door had 》 044 《 standing on it in golden, shimmering letters, the floor was polished and held a warm grey as it's colour. The walls were mostly white with a small peachy orange stripe spreading across all four walls. The plants were clearly fake and left him feeling hungry as he hadn't eaten today. He considered asking Y/n for one of his treats but he figured that wouldn't be a good idea.) When that didn't work he resorted to imagining doing everything the poor cat had suffered through with the Psychiatrist. "He- he-," they gave him a quick side glance before lowering their voice again, "he tore our neighbour's cat apart." With a look of surprise and horror Bluestone stared over to the Guinea Pig Hybrid (which usually are very peaceful and cheerful creatures) only to avert his gaze once his eyes locked with Hoseoks. He cleared his throat and shuffled through the stack of papers on the desk before him. "I'm sorry, but I do not think I'm experienced in such... special situations." Y/n stood up, making the elderly man flinch slightly, and looked at him with teary eyes. "Please, please, I beg you!" The man stayed silent for a moment before sighing. His smile was reassuring as he patted their shoulder. "You never learn to fly if you don't try, I'll see what I can do."

The next day Y/n sat in Mr. Bluestone's office and discussed Hoseok. "The thing that makes this difficult, is that Hybrids have not been studied enough for me to be able to diagnose him with any Guinea Pig Hybrid specific mental illness." He looked through some files that layed on his desk, scratching some things abd writing notes. Meanwhile Y/n asked, "But how come we don't diagnose them with human mental illnesses?" After a few seconds Bluestone looked up, now focusing his attention on the [gender]. "You see, Hybrid brains are, while not completely but still considerably, different from ours." That gained a sceptical look from Y/n. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not calling them inferior. If anything, they are way more physically advanced than mere humans are." The Psychiatrists eyes started sparkling with passion as he explained the abilities of different Hybrid breeds. "Cheetah Hybrid are able to run 3.6 times faster than an average grown human! Cat Hybrids have the ability of night vision and way more advanced senses than we do. And between Seahorse Hybrids it's the male who bears the children, not the female!" The excitement the man holds for Hybrids was very blatant as he continued rambling before Y/n asked while laughing, "You really like Hybrids, don't you?" "I find them fascinating, my husband thinks so too. It's sad to see so many people disrespect such fascinating creatures." The discussion went on for a while before they finally looked at the clock. It was time to go for Y/n which caused them great concern as their problem was still not close to being solved. Nonetheless they wished each other farewell before returning to their mundane tasks.

As Y/n sat on the soft, expensive couch in their livingroom Hoseok shyly approached them. "Y/n, are you mad at me?" They wanted to scold him, to put him in his place, teach him that such behaviour was not acceptable. But when they looked into his guilt filled eyes they just couldn't stay mad at their little ball of sunshine. "No," they rubbed their temple, "I'm not, Hobi. Come on." And they petted on their lap with a forced, slightly saddened smile. Hoseok immediately lit up and jumped onto their fraim, cuddling into them while letting out that weird purr when they started petting his brown-white locks. As they laid there many thoughts ran through Y/n's mind. How did they not notice that their own Hybrid was the one who caused those pets disappearances? Thinking back, it was so obvious. Those red stains on his clothing that they mistook for sauce or marmalade stains, the strong metallic smell that Hoseok sometimes had, it was right infront of their eyes. Yet they didn't notice, they didn't think to question that the cases of pets going missing had started a bit after their Hybrid moved in. The warning that caretaker gave them at the shelter, should they've listened to it? What would've happened if they didn't taken him, left him there without anyone by his side? Quickly they shook off such thoughts and looked down at Hoseok on their chest. He looked so innocent and fragile, as if he could snap at any moment, it made them want to protect him. The Guinea Pig Hybrid had already won over a giant portion of their heart, leaving him was out of question. But they will have to wait until Bluestone has found something that they should discuss. Y/n imagined that they would try and 'train' Hoseok, that they would talk him through his trauma and teach him the right way. But Bluestone wanted to know what he's doing before he would try and teach the Guinea Pig Hybrid anything. The risk that he could make it worse or cause a different trauma was too high for him to discard. So they agreed to first try and find something similar to Hoseoks condition first. Their thoughts were interrupted as they ley out a yawn. It was starting to get late, so they decided to go to bed now. The only problem was that Hoseok had already fallen asleep on top of them and they didn't want to wake him up. So they decided, one night sleeping on the sofa wouldn't hurt, how wrong they were.

When they woke up in the morning both their back and neck hurt as if someone slammed a hardwood chair against them. Hoseok had shifted over night so that they could get up without disturbing his sleep. Under grave pain they stood up, looked back at their little Hybrid and admired him for a second. Despite everything, he still was a very handsome young man. Undoubtedly if he wasn't their Hybrid they would be more than willing to date him. (Although he's a Guinea Pig Hybrid his body was quite athletic, he wasn't of abnormally muscular structure but did have abs and surprisingly strong legs. His hair always managed to look soft and shiny with little to no effort, his tan skin was completely clean, not a single blemish in sight. His eyes were a beautiful almond shape adorned with dark chocolate irises that always managed to wrap them around his fingers. With an oval shaped face and very pronounced jawline he surely was a sight to behold. But the greatest part was the tiny smile that he held even during his sleep.) Eventually Y/n stretched and walked over to their laptop. They received a new E-mail from Bluestone.

》 Dear L/n,

I am sorry to inform you that I did not find anything that could relate to your Hybrid's issue. But I have decided that, if you are willing to, still try and help your Hybrid. While I do not think this is the best way to approach it, I will try and help you and your Hybrid through therapy. I will send another E-mail should you agree to my offer.

Please remember to not accept you don't consider this helpful or do not want to waste your time with something that may or may not work. Send me an answer and I will send you the room, time and what I was planning on trying out. You can always back out, this is not any form of contract.

Sincerely,

Doctor Valentino Pérez Bluestone. 《

Suddenly the back- and neck pains weren't too much of a bother. While he couldn't find anything specific that he could sort Hoseok to, he would still help them. They quickly write an E-mail back.

》 Dear Doctor Bluestone,

thank you so much for helping us. I would not have known what to do without your help. I would very much like to accept your offer, sir.

I will await your E-mail. Until then,

Sincerely,

Y/n L/n. 《

After leaning back and turning to check up on Hoseok (at which point they remembered their back- and neck pains, causing them to stiffen from the stabbing pain running through them.) they carefully turned back to their laptop and decided it was time to finish their work.

If you enjoyed reading my work, please consider reblogging it. Thank you for reading

[irwintry]

Black Leather

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, drugs

Summary: Calum is in a small band in the mid-90s, and Y/N stumbles into his show one weekend in October.

Word Count: 7k

Among the sea of eyes, his were the ones that stood out.

The bus had stopped by too soon. In the four minutes it took to walk to the stop, you were running instead, lungs heavy while hot coffee sloshed onto your jeans. After twenty minutes passed, you were headed down Broadway on the 68 bus, your fingers twitching against your knees to the sounds of morning commuters. You were late. You were so fucking late.

The sprint to Sever Hall hadn’t been worth the energy. It hadn’t been worth the splattered burn, red splayed in dripped shapes against your thigh. It hadn’t been worth the asthma induced, cross-country sprint, one that left you wheezing in the hallway outside of your classroom. When you stumbled into the room, it was a hundred-eyed gaze, and you soon realized you had been better off skipping altogether.

“Sorry,” you breathed out, holding your chest high as you met each pair of eyes staring you down.

He had been looking at you. His lips were tugged into an unfamiliar smile while his dark brows rose in surprise. It wasn’t an appearance he wore often, and it kept you frozen in place. You were used to the frown and the rigid stare.

You managed a small smile in his direction before finding a seat toward the back.

You knew his name. You knew his face. You knew that he had come from outside of the states. But that was the gross extent of your knowledge of Calum, other than the dingy attire and the fact that he was more brilliant than you would ever know. He spoke in class on the rare occasion, and the words that flowed from his lips were dripping in pure gold.

And on the back page of your notebook, you kept his quotes in black ink. You wrote what you could hear through his soft mumbles, and you wondered why he kept so quiet with a mind as beautiful as his.

He kept his nose in a book. You spent the last month and a half studying him when you could, mentally tracing over the creases in his skin when an unsettling opinion was spoken in class. You thought about how bright his smile was despite having never seen it. You thought about how his deep brown eyes would look in the sun. You thought about his taste in music, and you wondered if you would ever know him the way you longed to.

You were caught up in your daydream when his eyes flickered over. His stare pulled you out from the swirling headspace, and you were quick to regain your involvement in the professor’s voice. Yet, despite the collected exchange, you could still feel his gaze. It was a heavy and mysterious gaze, the kind that elicited unwarranted shivers. But you didn’t mind it. The sensation sparked desirable nerves.

The next fifty minutes were spent in a distracted haze. Even the tragedy of Oedipus could not compare to the hope of delving into Calum’s personality. He was well reserved, and you ached to crack his code. You ached to be the source of his rare smiles.

That had been the reason behind your abstracted mind. He had smiled when you walked in.

You wondered about it for the next few hours, your brain preoccupied as you absentmindedly stepped around leaves on the pathway. You kept your head low on your way to Sage’s while the crisp wind nipped at any exposed skin. Scuffed shoes met shallow puddles along the pavement, and you were careful to avoid muddy spots against the lawn. The pole of posters beside Hollis Hall suddenly tore you out of the moment.

You looked beyond the anti-gentrification and political agenda signs. You looked beyond club meetings and tutor session invitations. The one poster that caught your eye was crumpled and torn, and it read:

Knight Knuckles. Slip Tit. Mudslide. Killed for Casualty.

8pm, Oct. 13th. $2 Coverage.

87 Linden St, Allston, Mass.

You reached around for your backpack, pulled out your notebook, and wrote down the address. You weren’t going to go, you told yourself. It wasn’t your scene–– it would never be. You shut the notebook and stuffed it back into your bag, mind returning to thoughts of Calum and the sandwich you were about to indulge in. To finish your day, you made small rounds through Harvard Square and stopped by the poetry shop to further indulge in unlikely necessities. All thoughts of Calum ceased.

-

The back door was cracked open. A few guys sat on the steps before it, each with a cigarette in hand and a beer in the other, and they were laughing at some offensive joke while you stepped around them. They weren’t worth the hassle of arguing against–– they would simply make their opinions overshadow yours with the use of their superiority complexes. So, you stepped inside, and the hot air swelled around you.

About a dozen strangers crowded into the small kitchen, and another few were cramped into the living room. The home was void of any furniture, but you weren’t shocked. The squalid interior with its spray-painted walls and missing floorboards was proof that hardly a soul lived here. At least, you hoped.

You slipped two dollar bills into a jar, and a man with an eyebrow piercing grabbed your hand and stamped a bright red mark onto it without saying a word.

“Watcha want there, Maggie May?” asked another man. He was leaned up against the fridge, and he had a few piercings as well.

You rolled your eyes. “Eat my ass.”

The girl beside him snorted. “He wants to know what you want to drink,” she said. “Also, I love you. I’m Tori.”

“Hey, yeah, you too,” you sighed out, slipping your jacket from off of your shoulders. The discomfort was evident. “Y/N. Not Maggie May. And, what do you have?”

“Mostly just Pabst,” she replied and tilted her own beer your way. “Beer and stuff.”

You nodded. “I’ll take that.”

Tori lightly shoved the man away from the fridge to retrieve a beer for you. When your fingers brushed, she smiled. “What brings you here, then, Y/N? It’s usually the same crowd ‘round here.”

“Dunno,” you mumbled. “Don’t usually come to a lot of stuff like this, so I figured I’d give it a shot. It was kind of a last-minute decision.” You popped the drink open and took a sip. The taste was foul and cheap, yet you kept the sweating can close to your chest.

“Makes sense,” replied Tori. Her eyes narrowed, and it felt as though she was reading you like an open book. “Do you even know anybody here?”

You shook your head. “Not a soul.”

“Cool.” She grinned. A few people made their way downstairs. “See you down there, Maggie May. I’ll dedicate the first song to your poor, lost soul.”

You had begun to retaliate when she left your company, and you soon followed the pack down the narrow steps into the basement. The first level was Barbie’s Dream House in comparison. Down below, you were met with concrete floors and a harsh smell of piss and weed. A make-shift space was filled with boxes and trash bags, plus a stained futon over in the corner. Christmas lights were hung around pillars beside the performance space, and wires were scattered like snakes over empty boxes of Marlboro. You could only imagine how much turmoil the oriental rugs below the drum kit had been through. You pushed through bodies and stood below a mural, meanwhile admiring the glossy eyes of handsome strangers beside you. A cute man offered you a joint, and you politely refused.

The first band was ear blood, but you recognized the need for courtesy. You nodded along to the screeching noises, wishing you had bought earplugs specifically for the occasion. The second band’s sound had little representation, yet the tunes were simple, and the lyrics were crude. The can of Pabst was warm against your skin. A half-hour later, the third band had finished their set. Tori fulfilled her promise of dedicating her song to you, and you greeted the feeling of eyes like an old friend.

You leaned against the cinderblock wall and ran your fingernails along the rim of your beer. The night had been going on for longer than expected. You needed to use the bathroom as well, but you wouldn’t be caught dead using it here. A stinging dissonance filled the tight space, and you returned your gaze onto the final band.

And then your eyes met a familiar figure. A tall, mysterious figure with an infamous leather jacket stretched across broad shoulders. Small, dark hand tattoos stood out against his brown skin.

“Yeah, uh, we are Killed for Casualty,” spoke the lead singer. His voice was soft, just like the golden curls that framed his face. You had a feeling you would like this band. “Let’s fucking rock, then.”

A series of blaring chord progressions filled the small space, and the crowd came back to life. The crash cymbals drowned out the lead singer’s voice, but you hardly cared about the quality of the music. You hardly had the energy to enjoy the melody when all you could focus on was the man behind the bass. All you could see were his furrowed brows and his deep frown. His eyes shut tight as his body swayed with the beat.

You hid behind shoulders. You hid behind the thought of his smile and sweet voice melting against your skin. His lips touched the mic every time he sang, and you couldn’t look away. Calum had a light aura–– it didn’t matter what clothes or expression he wore. You saw another part of him, yet you didn’t even know him.

You nestled rim of your beer beneath your front teeth while you moved with the crowd, head bobbing along to songs you had heard on the radio before. There were songs you didn’t recognize, too, and those were the ones Calum lost himself in. So, you lost yourself in them as well.

“Holy shit, you guys are awesome,” said the other guitarist. His light fringe was surely a sight, but you admired his adrenaline. He had a bubbly, boisterous attitude that you longed to have in your life.

Calum’s face lit up as his eyes scanned the crowd. You hadn’t assumed he would ever see you, but the world froze when he did. Your blood ran cold as his smile fell, and you were seconds away from slipping into a fit of self-doubt before his smile grew again. And then he winked.

He had winked at you and resumed with the set as if it never happened.

You hugged your jacket against your body, heart stuttering at the thought of his flirtatious nature directed toward you. You had finally seen his genuine smile, and you had been the reason behind it, too. The music was drowned out by the thoughts in your head.

“Thanks, guys,” said the lead singer, his eyes bright as he spoke. “I’ve been Luke. That’s Calum on bass. Ryan on drums. Michael on guitar. We’ve been Killed for Casualty. Thanks for comin’ out.”

You took a deep breath, meanwhile, the crowd thinned out as the band packed up their things. You made your way along with the strangers, yet your plans to duck out were torn to shreds by a tap on your shoulder. The tap was quick–– almost as if it had been a mistake, but when you turned to face the culprit, Calum stood before you. And he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Didn’t expect t’see you here.”

You shrugged. “Figured there was no better way to spend a Saturday night other than listening to music I’ve never heard before in my life.”

Calum laughed. “Oh, c’mon. I’m sure you’ve heard of Radiohead.”

“Oh, duh.”

His smile never died. He was looking at you, truly looking at you with crinkly eyes that you wanted to get lost in. “We–– uh, we have another show next weekend. It’d be sick if you came.”

“Yeah?” you asked, raising a brow, to which he reciprocated your gesture. “You really want me to come? Do you even know my name?” Your teasing tone hardly fazed him.

“Course,” he said. “You’re Y/N, and you’re almost always late to our Tragedy in Literature class. Like, always late.”

You pouted. “Don’t blame me. Blame the MBTA,” you replied, and he laughed.

“I always blame the MBTA.”

“It’s really the worst, isn’t it?” you asked him, and you felt yourself softening into the comfort of the conversation. In a matter of hours, you would be convincing yourself that the encounter never happened.

Calum’s smile was contagious. “Fucking awful. A man farted on me once on the red line.”

“You’re–– you’re kidding,” you said, but you soon fell into a small fit of laughter once he shook his head. “Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

“Speaking of awful––“ Calum pointed down to the empty Pabst in your hands. “Is that what they’re handing out? Christ–– Kev’s gotta get a raise. That shit sucks.”

“It was kind of disgusting,” you said, yet you shrugged it off.

“So, I gotta finish packing stuff up,” said Calum, “but listen–– it was really cool to see you. Hope you can make it out next time.”

Your lips twitched into a smile. “Only if you promise to dedicate that last song to me,” you replied. “It was my favorite.”

Calum grinned. “You’ve got yourself a promise, babe.”

-

The bus had been early again that following Monday. So, for the second class in a row, you were stumbling in late. Only a few heads turn in your direction, and immediately, you looked for the pair of deep brown eyes that made your heart flutter. You had only spoken to him once, but it had been enough to haunt you throughout the next day. It had been enough to spark something you hadn’t felt for anyone in years.

You found Calum in a heartbeat, and he had already been looking at you. He had already been smiling at you. You smiled in return and took your seat.

He spoke up once during class, and you placed the delicate words at the back of your notebook. After the class ended, you were quick to stand, heart racing at the thought of his smile so cute and goofy. You were too preoccupied to notice the man falling in step beside you.

“Like I said––” he began, voice so golden and smooth that you believed it belonged on the radio. The idea of Calum as a newscaster was a vision to behold. “––always late.”

You playfully hit his arm, and his laughter echoed around the halls. You were certain it was the kind of laugh that birthed fairies. “The bus system sucks,” you replied. “It’s the earliest one I can get, and it’s never on time.”

“Jus’ messing with you, love,” he said. His presence intimidated you, but it was the kind of intimidation that you never wanted to leave. It created the desire to hold him by the waist and carry him with you wherever you went. “Where ya off to?”

“I was gonna pop in Widener for a small study break,” you said, tugging your sleeves down so you could hold onto them with your fingers. “Then I usually get lunch before my last two classes of the day.

Calum huffed. “Mid-terms got you tickin’, too?”

“Something like that.”

“Harvard wants us all dead,” mumbled Calum as he held the front doors of the hall open for you. “That’s what I think.”

You had been expecting a chill from the morning, but the bright sun kept the air warm. You pushed the sleeves of your sweater back up your arms, and you stared at Calum in amazement. “You want yourself dead,” you said. “Do you ever get hot in that damn thing?”

“What, my jacket?” he asked, tilting up the leather as a smile grew. “It’s not about sweat, baby, it’s about fashion.”

Baby. You laughed the pet name off.

“’sides,” he continued. “It’s not about how hot I feel either. It’s about how hot I look.”

“I mean, yeah, it looks good.”

Calum raised a brow. You enjoyed watching his reactions out of the corner of your eye.

“But I always say that comfort comes before fashion,” you said as you kicked a few fallen leaves on the path before you.

He let out a chuckle. “Is that why you’re rollin’ in late with some big ass sweater on every day? Hell, you’re already late, so you could at least have the decency to show up with a coffee.”

“Honestly, I’ve thought about that,” you said. “And what do you have against big ass sweaters, huh?”

Calum shook his head. “Absolutely nothing at all.”

“Maybe next time I’ll wear a black one,” you replied. “Maybe then you’ll appreciate my fashion.”

“Can’t believe I’m being attacked at eleven o’clock in the morning.”

“You had it coming.”

He laughed again. “You don’t need t’wear black for me to appreciate you, love.”

The words warmed your chest. You smiled. “Well, I said my fashion, but it’s nice to know you appreciate me, Cal. Is–– is that okay? If I call you Cal?”

“Yeah,” he said. His smile hadn’t faltered throughout the entire conversation. “Reserved that nickname just for you.”

“Do you have any other classes today?” you asked him and placed yourself onto the steps of the library. You were still a few inches shorter at best. “Because you can join me if ya want.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, “but unfortunately, I’m already running late.”

Your jaw dropped as you laughed at his words. “And you make fun of me for being late. We’re gonna get kicked outta this fuckin’ school.”

Calum laughed along with you, and the sound was music. Everything about him was music. “I make fun of you because it’s cute to see you flustered.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you muttered, but your smile only grew. And so did your heart, too.

His eyes were golden in the sunlight, and they shimmered when he smiled. Sometimes, when he grinned so wide, his eyes squinted shut, and the sight left you woozy. You wondered if he knew how beautiful he was.

“See you ‘round, love,” he said to you, meanwhile taking a few steps back.

“Don’t forget about my dedication,” you replied. “I’m only coming this weekend because of you.”

Calum winked. “I won’t, darlin’. Study hard.” He turned down the path with a final wave, and you let out a sigh. And your smile carried on.

-

“You weren’t in class on Wednesday.”

That next weekend, you stepped off of the bus in Allston, your jean jacket hugged tight to keep warm down the tired streets behind music halls. The home was familiar, and it was packed full again. The bodies no longer stared at you like a stranger, but they still avoided you like one. Yet, Tori was there to keep you company as the night carried on.

You kept an eye out for Calum. The basement rocked with sound, air heavy as it filled with heat and smoke. The Christmas lights made you feel at home, yet none of it mattered when the one person you wanted to see wasn’t even there. So, you swayed to music from new bands you didn’t care about, wishing you hadn’t been stupid enough to fool yourself over a guy.

But, like always, he arrived when you least expected.

Tori gave you a wink and stepped away.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, chuckling. Meanwhile, his band had begun preparing their instruments. “I forgot I wasn’t.”

“You okay?” Calum asked you. “I can get ya the notes if you want.”

“I’m—oh wow, that’d be nice, thank you.” You grinned. “Yeah, um, I’m good. Turns out my alarm clock is a goner, so...”

Calum smiled. He was wearing a flannel tonight, and you decided that he could make trash bags look good. “Damn alarm clocks can’t be trusted.”

“They really can’t.” You eyed the rest of his band and furrowed your brows. “No drummer tonight?”

He glanced over at his friends before looking back at you. “Nah. We’re looking for a new one right now.”

You tilted your head.

“Ryan broke his wrist.”

“Oh, that sucks,” you said. “He was pretty good.”

Calum shrugged, but you could tell he was upset. Tonight, he had become the backbone of rhythm. “Yeah, well. Mike thinks he has a friend who knows some other drummer. He might be able to help out.”

“He just has to do my song justice,” you replied with a smirk. You hardly remembered the song, yet you knew it was your favorite of theirs no matter what. It was your favorite because Calum had winked at you before it, and it was all you could think about.

He nodded. “I’ll make fuckin’ sure of that.” He looked back over to his friend. “I should probably join them, then. Last song is yours,” he said, a grin spreading as he sent a wink your way.

He didn’t allow you to get a word in before he was jogging off and picking up his bass effortlessly. You weren’t sure how an instrument could make someone look so handsome, yet there he was, looking like the best damn man in the room.

“He’s fucking in love with you,” said Tori from behind. Her voice crept up your spine, and you yelped.

“Jesus,” you breathed out.

She laughed. “Cool your tits, Maggie May.”

“They’re ice-cold,” you replied. “And he’s not. We only just met last week.”

Tori shrugged. “You can totally fall in love in a week. He’s done it before.”

“He’s done it before?” you asked. The music blasted, and the bodies around you jumped and pushed. You hardly budged. Soon, you were shouting over Luke’s voice just to talk. “You know him?”

“Old friend,” she said over the music. “I’ve known him since like–– how many years ago was ’88?”

“Uh, seven.”

“I’ve known him for about seven years,” Tori continued. “He was a cute teen. Moved from Australia and played a shit ton of soccer. We started a band together in our last year of high school, but then he kinda disappeared for a year afterward. Came back and said he was going to Harvard–– said he had been with this girl. So, I assumed they broke up.”

You nodded along as she spoke.

“Anytime he’s with someone,” she carried on loudly, “it’s like he’s head over heels. He tries to act all shy and cool until you really get t’know him. And it’s pretty fuckin’ clear he really wants to know you.”

You tried to smile, but something about her words made it hard. Because you had never wanted to think about him loving someone else.

“You seem spooked.”

You shook your head. “Not spooked. Just a little in disbelief.”

Tori let out a laugh. “Why? Because I think he likes you? So hard to believe that?”

You shrugged.

“He is pretty damn cute,” she said. “So, if you hurt him, I’ll hunt you down.”

“You can hold me to that,” you replied. “I don’t wanna hurt him.”

“But you do want him?”

You nodded.

“Oh, hell fucking yeah.”

You laughed as she nudged you, and you soon returned your focus to Calum. His eyes met yours right away, and he smiled. This time, the fluttering in your stomach had become a heavy swarm, and you allowed it. You welcomed it.

The stress of the evening slipped off of your shoulders the more you danced. You no longer worried about what you would say to him or the words you had said in the past. You no longer worried about the feelings you wanted to repress. It was new, it was natural, and you wanted to deserve his company. You wanted to earn him.

When the final song approached, Calum kept his gaze on you, eyes brightening every time they met yours. His shy smile had etched itself into your brain. All he had to do was look your way, and you were his–– there was no one else. No one else in the room but you and him.

This stuff didn’t happen in a week. It never worked like this. But you blocked out the harsh noise of your pessimistic thoughts. You weren’t bound to doom what could be good because of your insecurities.

“This next one is dedicated to the person who thinks that 9:15 is the new 8:45. Or the one who just doesn’t bother showing up to class at all.”

You rolled your eyes, lips twitching while his face broke out into a grin. The song began after the silent exchange, and he kept looking at you. He looked at you until the crowd had dwindled and the music faded with their heads. He looked at you as if he had been waiting to have every ounce of your attention.

“Kicked ass,” you said, “as usual. You were a little flat at the end there, though.” Your teasing tone lightened while you crossed the floor toward him.

“Oh, really?” he asked you. He zipped the case of his bass closed and lifted it over his shoulder. “I didn’t realize you were a music critic. I’ll do better next time.”

You chuckled. “You better.”

Calum adjusted the strap on his shoulder, and you admired the comfort in his appearance. You wondered how he would react seeing you in the gray flannel he wore currently. He no longer intimidated you, not like he used to; you lost yourself in the strength of his gaze.

“You live around here?”

You shook your head. “I live down past Central.”

Calum raised his brows in surprise. “Shit, you live that far?” He folded his arms over his chest. “That’s why you’re rollin’ up late every damn day then, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said with a laugh. “It’s not that bad, though.”

His frown deepened. “I can keep ya company if you want.”

“Well, where do you live?”

“Like, a ten-minute walk from here,” he replied. “I’m a night-owl, so it’d be no problem. Only i-if you’re–– if you’re comfortable with that.”

You smiled once he stammered, and he blinked rapidly to cover up the fault in his words. Your heart was swelling. “Really nice of you to offer,” you said, “but you don’t need to go out of your way. The ride goes fast.”

Calum nodded, lips tugging into a small smile. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you mumbled. “But you can walk me to the bus stop if ya want.”

His face lit up in an instant.

-

The next show was at a new location.

Calum came to you that Monday with a torn flyer, hands shaking as he reached over your shoulder while you walked down damp pathways. You were going to arrive on time that day, and you were eager to rub it in his face until he stumbled up behind you. He appeared nervous to talk to you, yet the words he spoke were calm and collected.

“New place,” you observed, eyeing the messy letters. Meanwhile, Calum caught up in step beside you. “Looking forward to it.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You’ll come?”

“You think I wouldn’t?”

A grin spread on his face. Later on, he sat next to you in class.

That following weekend, you arrived at the house alone, bones shivering while the cold air crept under your skin. Calum stood at the base of the driveway with a cigarette in hand, and he was smiling like he always did when he saw you. Like he always did.

“Hey, Maggie May,” he said.

You groaned as you nearly fell into him, and he grabbed your arm to hold you steady. He smelled of cigarette smoke and earthy cologne. “Not you, too. Isn’t the song about a cougar?”

Calum shrugged and loosened his grip. But it was slow, almost as if he didn’t want to let go. “Who knows?” The cigarette slipped from his fingers, and he stomped it into the pavement. “Come on in. I wanna introduce you to the guys.”

“Oh, the guys?” you asked, chuckling. “Did know we were there yet. I’m honored.”

He looked back at you while he led you in through the back door. “You should be. They’ll like you, though. You’re cool, I guess.”

“That’s convincing.”

Calum laughed. He walked you beyond the men asking for coverage fees at the front, giving them subtle nods while you avoided eye contact. You continued to keep your head down low as he led you down to the basement. The house layout was similar, yet the room was larger, and the lights around the posts were purple bats instead. A few familiar faces were passing around a joint beside the drumkit.

“Hey, idiots,” said Calum. He placed a hand between your shoulder blades. “This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Luke, Mike, and Ashton.”

“The new guy,” you spoke softly, eyeing the strong arms of the stranger across from you. You could tell that, just by his build, he was going to rock the house. “Why are you all so fuckin’ tall?”

The new drummer, Ashton, laughed. His smile was the type to light up the entire room. “Maybe you’re just fuckin’ short,” he retaliated.

Michael chuckled along. “Ya probably need a step ladder jus’ to hug Cal.”

“She can’t even do that,” said Luke. “Her arms aren’t long enough.”

You narrowed your gaze. “Touché.”

Calum’s hand slid down to the small of your back. His touch burned through your clothes. “Okay, that’s it. Y’all can find a new band.”

“Are you leaving us, or are you kicking us out?” asked Michael. He placed the joint between his lips.

“Kicking all of you out,” said Calum, and he tugged the joint away from his friend. “It’s just me now.” He turned to you. “You wanna join my band?”

“Are you kidding?” You leaned into him, and he pulled your closer, hand finding your waist while he gazed down at you. His eyes were warm, and there was something new. Something hidden behind the crinkles that seemed to never cease when around you. Like you could finally feel everything Tori was telling you about. “Can I take Luke’s place?”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, snagging the burning joint from Calum’s fingers before taking a hit. “No more for you.”

A handful of people made their way down the steps, their voices carrying through laughter and drunken screams. Calum’s grip on your waist loosened and dropped.

“Ready to fuckin’ rock?” he whispered to you.

The timber in his voice rattled through your spine, but the shiver only lasted so long before he was guiding you back into the crowd. He hardly spoke after that. The music did enough, and instead, he talked through gazes— warm, heartfelt eyes filled with something you hadn’t seen in a while, if at all. For the night, you felt like he admired you the way you had always wanted him to.

“—just annoying as shit. Screaming and bouncing like a fucking slut, man. She was so loud. But who gives a shit, you know? Like, she’s a goddamn whore when she’s—“

Calum tensed at the sound of the men behind you. You could picture the scowl on his features, yet you didn’t dare to glance over. You wanted to pretend nothing had happened, that nothing had been said.

But you couldn’t.

Calum whipped around, and you were quick to grab his arm. “Do you guys mind not fucking disrespecting women like that?” he asked, the pitch of his voice lowering as the words slipped out with ease.

One of the men—you guessed the one who had spoken originally—laughed. Anger coursed through your veins as well, but Calum’s radiated off of him. You moved your hand up to his bicep.

“What? You really gonna do something?” asked the man. He looked down at you and smirk. “I’ll totally take it back if you give me a spin on your little bi—“

Calum lunged, fist flying toward the face of the man with a devilish grin. Immediately, someone tugged you back— you assumed Michael, but you didn’t bother to check. Instead, you were forced to scream over shouts and cheers while the boy you liked fought for you. He fought for you.

The other man had gotten in his fair share of punches, his frightening, rigid knuckles crunching and colliding against Calum’s jaw. Every crack echoed. Every grunt, every groan sent sparks through your nerves, and you felt tears pricking beneath your eyes. Limbs flew and bodies slammed against one another, but you stood there helpless. You stood there wishing you could blink away the fear and adrenaline.

Everyone was shoving each other as the fight spread throughout the crowd. Petty brawls broke out, and you were barely shielded by Ashton’s interference in front of you. But beyond the noise, you still heard Calum, and he was shouting for you.

Shoulders knocked against yours while you fought your way beyond the mayhem. The air was hot, thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol and everything in between, and all you wanted was to find Calum and get out in one piece. You just wanted to be alone with him, to make sure he was okay and to tell him how much he meant to you. To tell him how much his actions meant to you.

A hand reached out for yours. A bloodied and bruised hand with a familiar tattoo stretched across the thumb.

“C’mon,” he muttered once he got close enough, and he pulled you through the chaos to reach the base of the stairs. You were hot on his tail as he walked up, but you chose to remain quiet.

And you stayed quiet the entire walk back to his place.

He was angry, fingers tightly locked between yours while the breeze picked up around you. His pace was heavy, and yours was, too. The door to his apartment slammed shut behind the two of you. You fought the urge to pull him back and calm the frustration, but he was stomping up two flights of steps with you on his heels. You hardly had a chance to glimpse at his small space before you were being pulled into an old bathroom down the hall.

“Cal— Calum.” You pried his fingers away from yours as he paced the tiled floor. “Calum.”

“I’m sorry,” he said as he ran his hands through his hair. He turned to face you, and you were finally able to look at the damage that had been done. You finally saw what he had put himself through just to defend you. Or, maybe it was much more than that. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “They just— I wasn’t just gonna let them say that shit to you.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

But you wished you did to have to feel any gratitude. You wished you hadn’t been forced to watch him break his bones in order to keep harmful words at bay. He suffered a bloody nose, swollen lip, and bruised cheek, and you felt responsible for every single scratch that tore through his skin.

“Do you— do you have an ice pack?” you sputtered, hand reaching up to grab the air. Because you weren’t sure if you had the right to touch him.

Calum nodded, and you didn’t wait for a verbal answer. You hurried into his kitchen, and despite the cramped size, you lost yourself in the details. It was his kitchen— it was Calum through and through. You searched the drawers for a dish towel, trembling hands picking out a dark cloth before soaking it under the dripping faucet. Next, you retrieved an ice pack from the freezer before rushing back into the bathroom. Calum was leaned up against the porcelain sink, and he had taken off his jacket to reveal a thin white tank.

You kept quiet and approached him slowly, heart heavy at the sight of him so bloodied and broken. You thought about his touch and how it felt earlier on in the night. You thought about protective he was despite barely knowing you for two weeks. And lastly, you thought about how, even when provoked into unattractive behavior, he still managed to look so damn hot.

So, you didn’t speak as you pressed the damp cloth against his blood-soaked skin. He stayed still, watching you as you scrubbed lightly until all that was left was a pinkish residue. You felt the weight of his gaze, and it burned deep in your gut. You had said he no longer intimidated you, but tonight, that wasn’t the case. Ir was the kind of intimidation that drew warmth and left you wanting more.

He was close, so close you could hear your hearts beating as one. The heat of his breath touched your skin, and you were forced to steady yourself with one hand against his bare shoulder. You hadn’t noticed his chest tattoos before, but maybe you hadn’t been this observant. Maybe you hadn’t felt as much as you were feeling right now.

You set the ice pack against his cheek and sighed. “Why did you do that?” you asked him, chest heavy while you yearned to reconstruct your words. You hadn’t wanted to plant the blame on him.

Calum swallowed. “The words he was saying, I—“ His eyes watered as he peered down at you, and he winced once you adjusted the frozen pack onto his blossoming bruise. “Couldn’t stand for that shit. Couldn’t bear to hear him say it. And I— I didn’t wanna hear him say it about you.”

You frowned. The hand that had been on his arm moved down to his chest.

“You don’t have t’take care of me,” he mumbled, lips tugging into a soft smile.

“But I want to,” you said to him. Your fingers traced the edge of his tank.

Calum’s smile quickly fell, and the room was quiet. You wondered if he could feel what you were feeling, too.

“Put down the fuckin’ ice pack,” he whispered, words tight and intricate as his hands slipped around your waist.

And then he was leaning in, lips hot as they pressed against yours in a captivating, lustful kiss. The ice pack slipped from your hands, and you felt frozen in his grip. Desperate hands clutched your waist while the kept you pressed against the sink behind you. You tossed your arms around his neck once you got a feel for his smooth, plump lips aching to taste yours. His fingers maneuvered beneath the thick layer of your sweater in order to feel your skin; you just hadn’t been aware of how truly sensational his touch would feel against your back. His lips melted against yours.

You reached a hand around to hold his face, and he seethed.

“Jesus, fuck,” he spat, and your eyes fell to the fresh bruise you had just touched.

“I’m— I’m so sorry,” you breathed out, expecting him to pull away, yet he pulled you close and reattached your lips with as much passion as the first time. Your teeth clashed, tongues slipping against one another while the heat of the moment made your insides churn. Calum’s large hand splayed across your jaw to keep you close.

His lip was still swollen from the fistful impacts, yet he seemed unfazed; in fact, it only spurred him on. But the heat of the moment overwhelmed you. You wanted him, but you wanted to know you had him.

You brushed your top lip against the corner of his mouth, hands gripping the loose material of his tank while you leaned into him. He held you with strong arms, ones you never wanted to let go.

“You’re really fuckin’ something else, babe,” he mumbled into your hair, and you could feel his smirk. “You know that?”

You chuckled. “I think the name is Maggie May.”

The warmth of his laughter spread through you. His fingers danced along the ridges of your spine, and you leaned back to look at him. His smile was small, yet it was soft, and it held every confession you had wanted to hear.

The black leather jacket on the floor caught your eye. A moment later, you pulled your sweater over your head, and Calum stood across from you in awe. His gaze was intense as you reached down for the jacket and tugged it over your arms. The leather creaked, but the loved material had softened through wear-and-tear. It slipped on with ease, and you stuffed your hands in the pockets with confidence.

Calum was silent as he took your appearance in. His jacket sat draped across your torso with only a bra underneath; you could only imagine how the sight made him feel.

He smiled and told hold of your waist. “Well, then, Maggie May,” he breathed out, lips pressing against your cheek and down your neck. The sensation made your chest ache. “I got something to say to you.”

You tangled your fingers through his dark curls as his voice vibrated through you.

“You stole fuckin’ heart, babe,” he said. “I couldn’t leave you if I tried.”

[cocastyle]

Change - Ch. 1 | S E V E N

Pairing - Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 4,475

A/N - it’s been a bit hasn’t it? I’m so sorry for the semi-long wait! it’s getting near the end of my basketball season so I’ve been busy with senior night (which went great but was very emotional) and trying to wrap the season up while also juggling the mounds of homework my teachers have thrown at me. anyways, here’s an update for you all! I really hope you like it! and for those reading Wonderwall (my Steve Harrington rewrite) I’m currently working on an update for that as well!

if you all would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

C H A N G E

Change Series Masterlist

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S E V E N -  Pictures

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Y/N was silent as she held onto her cousin's arm, standing close to him due to the bit of fear coursing through her body. Her eyes flickered over the missing poster in front of her, the name Edward Corcoran and the words 13 years old standing out almost as much as the thick bold letters spelling out missing.

Edward had been her age, a kid just like her and all of the other members of the Losers' Club. What had happened to him was still unknown, but Y/N couldn't stop thinking about that clown that not only her, but Bill, Beverly, Stan, and Eddie had seen as well.

"They say they found part of his hand all chewed up near the standpipe," Stan muttered as he shuffled awkwardly where he stood. His words made Y/N gulp and she gave him a questioning look as to why he would say something like that as she let go of his arm. Stan only gave her a look in response, confused by what she was doing.

"He asked to borrow a pencil once," Ben commented, and Y/N felt like she might be sick. Something about knowing that they had known Edward made the situation that much more real. After all he was a boy that had used to walk the same hallways as her cousin. He wasn't the first one to disappear like this and it didn't seem like he was going to be the last.

A commotion coming from the steeet caught Y/N's attention and she turned her head to lock eyes on Richie who was currently playing one of the band kid's instruments while the kid desperately tried to wrestle it out of his hands. The corners of her lips tugged up ever so slightly as she watched Richie, her eyes then flickering over the parade going by before a movement out of the corner of her eye had her turning back to the others.

Bill was walking towards the flyer and he hesitated before gently lifting the paper up to reveal another missing flyer for a girl named Betty Ripsom. Bill sighed before letting his eyes flicker over to his friends, his gaze instantly locking with Y/N's.

"It's like she's been f-f-forgotten because Corcoran's missing," Bill said, his words making Y/N frown slightly and look to her feet while Bill hung his head and put Edward's flyer back down.

"Is it ever gonna end?" Stan questioned.

"What the fuck, dude?" Richie's voice could be heard yelling out in frustration as the band kid tore his instrument away from the boy before running away.

"What are you guys talking about?" Eddie asked as he came up behind Y/N. The girl jumped in surprise and Eddie flashed her an apologetic look as he licked one of the ice cream cones in his hands.

"What they always talk about," Richie replied in annoyance as Eddie handed the boy the other ice cream cone.

"I actually think it will end, for a little while, at least," Ben told them.

"What do you mean?" Beverly asked, everyone's eyes now on the young boy.

"So I was going over all of my Derry research and I charted out all of the big events. The Ironworks explosion in 1908. The Bradley Gang in '35 and The Black Spot in '62. And now kids being. . ." Ben trailed off as his gaze fell on Bill. He quickly looked away and sighed as he said, "I realized this stuff seems to happen-"

"Every 27 years," Ben, Y/N, and Bill all uttered in unison, Y/N and Bill both making eye contact as those words left their mouths.

It was silent as the group stood there before Y/N shook her head and whispered out, "Shit." All eyes turned to the girl who put a hand to her head almost in pain before she turned and began to walk away, the action causing them all to look at her confused.

"Y/N?" Bill called out, his voice soft and filled with concern.

"I. . .I just need to sit down," Y/N replied with a wave of her hand as she walked down the street. The others all shared a look before quickly following after her, not wanting her to be alone.

Before long, the group had ended up sitting down at a park bench set up in the middle of town. Beverly, Stan, Mike, and Ben all sat on the green bench while Richie, Eddie, and Bill were seated on their bikes. As for Y/N, she was sitting on the ground by Bill's side.

She was resting her head against Bill's leg, something that hadn't gone unnoticed by Bill or Stan, and was pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to wrap her head around everything that she had been told over the past couple of days and everything that she had witnessed since she got here.

Derry was definitely a little stranger than the last time she had been there that was for sure.

"Ok, so let me get this straight. It comes out from wherever to eat kids for like a year and then what? It just goes into hibernation?" Eddie finally asked

"Maybe it's like. . .what do you call it? Cicadas. You know, the bugs that come out once every 17 years," Stan suggested while Y/N removed her hand to scrunch up her nose and look to her cousin.

"I don't think it's that," Y/N muttered with a shake of her head. Cicadas and kids going missing were not the same thing at all.

"My grandfather thinks this town is cursed. He says that all the bad things that happened in this town are because of one thing. An evil thing that feeds off the people of Derry," Mike explained.

Y/N's stomach grew queasy again and she let out a soft groan as she laid back against Bill's leg, the boy reaching down to brush some of the hair out of her face almost automatically before the two shared a small smile.

"But it can't be one thing. We all saw something different," Stan pointed out.

"Maybe. Or maybe It knows what scares us most and that's what we see," Mike suggested.

"But I don't. . .I don't fear my father," Y/N argued.

"Did he do or say something that scares you?" Mike asked, wondering if it wasn't Y/N's father that scared her but something else that he might've done or said.

Y/N's face fell at that and a flash of pain flickering across her face before she looked down, the sudden realization of what fear her father was supposed to represent hitting her harder than she had expected. For one of the things she feared most in the world was being the reason her parents split up and for being the reason her family wasn't a family anymore.

It didn't take much for the others to know that she had realized what her fear was, but Eddie knew she wouldn't want to talk about it and was quick to speak up, "I-I saw a leper. He was like a walking infection." Everyone's gaze turned to him and Y/N gave him a thankful smile which he returned.

"But you didn't. Because It isn't real. None of this is. Not Eddie's leper or Bill seeing Georgie or Y/N seeing her father or the woman I keep seeing," Stan insisted, the others all looking down as they tried to believe Stan's words. For it was better to think that they were all hallucinating than to know that something out there was changing into their worst fears.

"Is she hot?" Richie suddenly asked in pure curiosity that made Stan scrunch his nose up in disgust and glare at his friend.

"No, Richie. She's not hot. Her face is all messed up," Stan explained with a tad bit of aggression while Richie frowned. "None of this makes any sense. They're all like bad dreams."

"Nightmares," Y/N whispered, her face pale as she ran a hand through her hair. By now she was thinking of all of her fears and what It could do to her that she was more frightened now than she had been five minutes ago.

"I don't think so, I know the difference between a bad dream and real life, okay?" Mike told them, the seriousness in his voice making them fall quiet.

"What did you see? You saw something too?" Eddie asked.

"Yes," Mike muttered, his head falling as his eyes glazed over as if he were seeing the memory before his very eyes. "You guys know that burnt down house on Harris Avenue? I was inside when it burned down. Before I was rescued my mom and dad were trapped in the next room over from me. They were pushing and pounding on the door trying to get to me. But it was too hot. When the firefighters finally found them. . .the skin on their hands melted down to the bone."

A heavy silence fell among the group and Mike let his eyes flicker over each of them before firmly saying, "We're all afraid of something."

"Got that right," Richie said causing Y/N to look to him.

"What about you, Tozier? What are you afraid of?" Y/N asked, her voice soft as she looked to the boy. He glanced down at her for a second before sighing and looking back at the stage behind them which had a clown on stage.

"Clowns."

- - -

Bill let out a small sigh of frustration as he struggled to keep the blueprints on the wall from moving as he pinned them up. Before he could yell at one of his friends to help him, a small and gentle voice said, "Here, I'll help."

Bill didn't even have time to blink before Y/N was sliding up beside him to hold the paper up while he was able to pin the blueprint to the wall. Once it was secure, the two brought their arms down and looked to each other. "Thanks," Bill whispered before the two smiled softly at each other.

"Okay, lovebirds! If you aren't going to fucking kiss then sit down!" Richie exclaimed in slight amusement and annoyance, a few chuckles escaping his lips at the sight of Bill and Y/N blushing a deep red before they walked away from the blueprint.

Mike pulled the door to Bill's garage down while Eddie flipped on the projector that Bill had him set up. The Losers then all crowded around the projector while Bill put a slide in. Y/N and Bill locked eyes for a split second before Y/N quickly turned away and sat down beside Eddie on the floor, the boy sending a small smile in her direction which she quickly returned before they looked to the blueprints which had a projection of an old Derry map on top of it.

"Okay. Look. That's where G-G-Georgie disappeared. There's the Ironworks and the Black Spot. Everywhere It happens it's-it's all connected by the sewers and they all meet up at the-" Bill began as he pointed towards the spots marked on the map.

"The Well House," Ben said in surprise.

"Well House?" Y/N questioned, not knowing what they were talking about.

"That's the house on Neibolt Street," Stan explained, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke.

"You mean that creepy-ass house where all the junkies and hobos like to sleep?" Richie questioned while Eddie began to panic. The boy quickly pulled his inhaler out and took a hit before breathing heavily beside Y/N. The girl frowned and was quick to put a hand on Eddie's back, gently rubbing up and down his back in a comforting manner and helping the boy to calm down.

"I hate that place," Beverly admitted. "Always feels like it's watching me."

Eddie was finally able to calm down enough to sit back up straight and he leaned into Y/N's touch slightly, seeking the sisterly comfort she seemed to be giving him and that he used to receive from her when they were younger.

"That's where I saw It," Eddie told them. "That's where I saw the clown."

"Tha-tha-tha-that's where It lives," Bill concluded, the statement being enough to make Eddie use his inhaler once again.

"I can't imagine anything ever wanting to live there," Stan muttered.

"Guys," Y/N said in warning as she noticed Eddie's panicking state, but the boy was already jumping to his feet and turning to look at his friends.

"Can we stop talking about this?" Eddie asked. "I-I-I can barely breathe and-and-and Y/N's not even able to calm me down like she always does. It's summer. We're kids, I can barely breathe. I'm having a fucking asthma attack and fuck doing this!"

Eddie turned around and quickly grabbed ahold of the blueprint map that Bill and Y/N had just put up and ripped it off the wall. "What the hell! Put the map back!" Bill yelled while Eddie shook his head.

Y/N sighed and quickly got up from her spot before walking over to the boy. "Eds, it's okay," Y/N assured him while the boy watched her wearily.

"Woah! Woah! Woah! How come she gets to call you Eds without you biting her head off?" Richie complained.

"Because she's not an asshole like you!" Eddie exclaimed while Richie frowned and muttered something under his breath.

It was at that moment that the projector flickered on and off, the slide changing to a blank one and causing the group to look to Bill who was staring at the projector confused. The projector did the motion again and a picture of Georgie and Mr. Denbrough appeared in the place of the map. Although this time everyone had noticed that Bill hadn't been the one to change the slides.

"What happened?" Bill asked confused as the slides moved again, family pictures of the four Denbroughs appearing before them. "What's going on?"

Eddie slowly began to back away while Y/N merely looked at the pictures in confusion before looking back at Bill. "Bill, what's happening?" Y/N questioned.

"I don't know," Bill shook his head as Mike came over and tried to stop the projector only to find that he couldn't. His eyes then flickered up to the screen and he muttered, "Guys. . ."

Y/N turned back around and watched as pictures of Bill and Georgie appeared on the screen before there was another family picture of the Denbroughs. Although this time it began to zoom in on Georgie in the picture with each click of the projector.

"Georgie," Bill muttered before the projector began to move faster.

"Uh. . .Y/N," Stan said in a panicked voice as he noticed that his cousin was still so far away from him.

However, everyone fell silent and seemed to become mesmerized as they watched the picture suddenly shift view over to Mrs. Denbrough. For a moment it seemed as if her hair was moving with each click of the projector and it didn't take Y/N or the others long to realize that it was moving with each click.

The hair quickly covered his mother's face before slowly starting to move away. With each click, the new face began to be revealed and Y/N felt her breath hitch in her throat once she realized the clown was suddenly coming into view.

It was like she was frozen in terror, the only thing registering in her head was her friends yelling out as they desperately tried to stop the projector.

"What the fuck?"

"It's It!"

"What the fuck is that?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"Turn it off!"

"Yes, turn it off!"

Mike was the one to react and he quickly kicked the stand the projector was on, sending the projector tumbling to the ground. The picture appeared again only the clown was now gone and all that was left was the empty background of the picture.

Y/N was breathing heavily as she finally blinked out of whatever trance she had been in. Her body was shaking as she looked back at the others with wide eyes only to find them all looking behind her with wide eyes before Bill looked to Y/N in fright and yelled out, "Y/N, get away!"

Y/N felt her whole body tense at that and for some stupid and unknown reason she decided to turn around only to find that there was nothing there. Her shoulders relaxed slightly and she went to turn back at her friends only for the clown suddenly to appear out of no where, it's body now ten times bigger and crawling out of the projected image.

A scream fell from Y/N's lips as the clown turned to look at her and she heard Stan cry out her name among the scream of the others. That was enough to have her moving and Y/N tried to scramble away only for something to grab onto her leg.

Y/N quickly slammed into the ground and turned only to find that It had ahold of her leg. Another scream left her lips and tears were filling her eyes by now as she felt an immense pain in her leg.

It let go of her for a split second and Y/N tried to crawl away as best as she could while It just watched her in amusement. She didn't know what her cousin or her friends were doing at that moment, but for a split second she thought that they had left her and that she was going to die.

Y/N was crying as she crawled across the floor only to get trapped in the corner of the garage while It stared directly at her, his hand outstretched in her direction as he went to grab for her.

"Y/N!" Bill's voice yelled out before he was suddenly grabbing onto the garage door and flinging it up, allowing the light to pour into the garage. The clown disappeared almost immediately and the last thing to be heard was an ear piercing scream from Y/N as she huddled more into herself in the corner of Bill's garage.

Once nothing came for her, Y/N allowed her eyes to flicker open only to find the garage was now empty. This alone was enough to make her break down and Y/N began to sob as she hugged her knees close to her body, the others all standing there breathing heavily as they tried to process what had just happened.

Bill was the only one unfazed and shoved past Stan who was staring at his cousin with wide eyes, a look of pure horror on his face as he had almost seen his best friend die before his very eyes and hadn't been able to do anything about it.

Bill was in front of Y/N in seconds and the girl didn't even hesitate before lunging forward and into Bill's arms, the boy holding her tight while she cried into his shirt. He tucked her head under his chin and cradled the back of her head against his chest as he gently rocked her back and forth, whispering softly to her that she was okay while she cried in his arms.

"It saw us," Eddie whispered once Y/N's cries has quieted. She was still holding onto Bill tightly, the boy having not loosened his grip at all either, but the two turned their gazes to Eddie who was gripping onto his inhaler. "It saw us and It knows where we are."

"It always knew," Bill muttered, those words making Y/N quiet once again. Bill looked down at the girl and his mind was instantly made up on what had to happen next. He gave the girl one last squeeze and even kissed the top of her head before reluctantly pulling away from her, ignoring the heartbroken look in her eyes as she desperately tried to keep hold of him.

Bill stood up and glanced at Stan who took the hint and rushed over to his cousin before helping her up onto her feet. Bill was just about to walk out when he heard a hiss from behind him that had the boy turning around to see Y/N turn her leg for them all to see. He, along with all the others, paled at the sight of two long scratches down the back of her leg, blood rolling down her leg and making Eddie stumble back slightly from the sight.

"Shit," Richie muttered, his eyes filling with concern as he looked at Y/N and gulped.

Y/N's injury only seemed to fuel Bill's rage and he shook his head before storming out of the garage with a new purpose. "Let's go," Bill demanded.

"Go? Go where?" Beverly asked.

"Neibolt," Bill explained and, not wanting to admit his feelings for Y/N and how desperately he wanted to kill that clown for harming her or his brother, added, "That's where G-G-Georgie is."

"After that?" Stan asked appalled as he held his cousin up steady beside him. "After Y/N just got hurt?"

"Yeah, Y/N's hurt and we should help her. Besides it's summer, we should be outside. . ." Richie said.

"If you say it's summer one more f-f-f-fucking time," Bill muttered before letting his eyes flicker over his friends. Each one of them obviously wanted to stay right where they were and it made Bill even angrier than he already was. But then his eyes had landed on Y/N and his face softened ever so slightly as he noticed the utter pain in her eyes as she tried to limp forward and to him.

Shaking his head and knowing that not only would his friends not come, but that he couldn't allow Y/N to face that clown again, Bill turned around and grabbed his bike before beginning to bike away.

"Bill?" Y/N called after the boy, shoving Stan's grip away from her as she desperately tried to limp forward as fast as she could just to stop the boy from leaving by himself. "Wait!"

But Bill was already gone.

- - -

It took a minute for Y/N to convince Stan to let her on to his bike and another few minutes of convincing Eddie to allow her to leave with only a bandage lazily thrown over her wound, but the group was eventually biking after Bill side by side until they reached the Well House. Y/N could see Bill walking up the old stairs and her eyes widened before she yelled out, "Bill!"

Bill turned around in surprise, his eyes locking on Y/N who struggled to get off Stan's bike before she limped over to the stairs as fast as she could, wincing as she did. "Bill, you can't go in there," Y/N pleaded as she reached the stairs. "At least not alone."

Bill looked to the girl with surprise still evident on his face but it quickly washed away once he heard Beverly cry out, "This is crazy." Beverly and the others were behind Y/N in seconds and Bill frowned as he looked at the group.

"Look, you don't have to come in with me, but what happens when another Georgie goes missing, or another Betty or another Ed Corcoran or one of us? Are you just going to pretend it didn't happen like everyone else in this town? Because I can't. I go home and all I see is that Georgie isn't there, his clothes, his toys, his stupid stuffed animal but he isn't. So walking into this house for me. . .it's easier that walking into my own," Bill told them, his voice steady although he had tears in his eyes.

Bill then turned and finished walking up the stairs while Y/N watched him go with a sad look on her face. Her leg was on fire, but she didn't care at the moment because all that mattered was Bill.

"Wow," Richie muttered.

"What?" Ben asked.

"He didn't stutter once," Richie pointed out.

No one made a move to go after the boy and Y/N glanced at her friends before shaking her head and limping over to the stairs. It was a struggle to get up the stairs, but now that the adrenaline was coursing through her body and the initial pain of the injury was gone, it was bearable enough for her to be able to get through the pain for this.

Bill heard the footsteps before he could get to the door and he turned, his face softening at the sight of Y/N limping up the stairs. He didn't even hesitate before going over and holding a hand out for her. She took it and he helped her up the rest of the stairs before she stumbled slightly into him. Bill was quick to steady her and the two stared at each other in silence before Y/N gave him a small nod and whispered, "I'm with you."

Her words were enough to make Bill smile and his heart couldn't help but skip a beat as his feelings for the girl grew even more. He couldn't even find it in himself to tell the girl she couldn't come, for the way she looked at him dead in the eye and the seriousness of her voice was enough to tell him that she really would be by his side through this all, that she wouldn't let him do this alone even if she was hurt.

Y/N eventually tore her eyes away from Bill and looked to the others almost pleadingly and it didn't take much more than Bill's words and Y/N's pleading stare to have them start moving toward the stairs.

"Wait!" Stan cried out, instantly stopping everyone in their tracks. "Uhhh, shouldn't we have some people keep watch. You know, just in case something bad happens?"

Y/N didn't blame her cousin for not wanting to go into that house. After all, a small part of herself was telling her to grab her cousin and get on his bike before pedaling far away. But something was stopping her from doing so and she actually found herself wanting to go in there and kill that clown herself.

"Wh-Wh-Wh-Who wants to stay out here?" Bill asked and everyone in the group except for Bill, Beverly, and Y/N raised their hands. Richie was the first one to notice this and sighed as he lowered his hand.

"Fuck."

* * *

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[epochofbelief]

Breath Control, Chapter Six

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to SJ Maas!

Feysand.

Warnings: mature content, cursing

Let me know if you want to be tagged:)

Enjoy! 

SIX

We pulled up outside the family house--an enormous, Colonial-style building, complete with six bedrooms, too many bathrooms to count, an enormous kitchen, and several living areas. My father had purchased it as soon as his business had started flourishing again in the middle of last year. I’d never understood why he’d bought such a large home for himself alone. I figured it was something about overtly displaying just how much wealth he’d regained to everyone in our home town. I didn’t concern myself with it too much; I’d never actually lived in the house anyway.

Nesta had for a few months before she’d moved down to Prythian to live near me and Elain. I’m pretty sure she’d lived on the opposite side of the house from my father to avoid running into him as much as possible until she’d saved enough money from her flight attendant job to get a place of her own. . . Out of the three of us, Nesta got along with my dad the least. 

Rhys charmed Elain instantly, asking her questions about her baking, her gardening, her nursing classes. He skillfully avoided all talk of significant others, for which I was grateful, and by the end of the car ride Elain was half in love with him.

Elain hopped out of the car as soon as she pulled onto the enormous bricked driveway. I remained inside with Rhys for a moment. I twisted around in the backseat to look at him. 

“Here is my final warning and disclaimer to you. I love Nesta, don’t get me wrong. But she will be a bitch to you. I don’t know how my father will act around. . .” I trailed off.

“Never brought a boy home, Feyre darling? I’ll try to pretend I’m not immensely flattered at the idea.”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “Of course I’ve brought boys home. You’re not that special.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Archeron. Let’s go meet your family.” 

If I was being honest, his eagerness scared me a little.  I took a deep breath and followed him up the front walk, bags in tow. Elain burst into the house and I timidly followed her through the enormous entry way, painted a pleasant cream above the dark wood flooring. Past the staircase and to the right, we found my father and Nesta in the kitchen talking. 

More like arguing, They weren’t yelling, though, which was progress for those two.

“I don’t like you working as a flight attendant, Nesta. You got an engineering degree for a reason, you know.” 

“I don’t care. Working on planes is much more fun. I get to see new places during long layovers or overnight stays. So butt. Out. Dad.”

Elain cleared her throat. Realizing they now had company, they both shut up rather quickly. I was grateful. I wanted to spare Rhys from the family theatrics for as long as possible. Even if things had been better between all four of us for the past year or so. 

“Feyre!” My dad exclaimed, unusually perky. It was probably for Rhys’s benefit.  He moved to hug me and I acquiesced, glancing at Nesta out of the corner of my eye. She shrugged.

“And you must be Rhysand. I have to say, I was quite surprised when Feyre told me she was bringing a boy home for Thanksgiving dinner who wasn’t Tamlin.” My cheeks were absolutely flaming at this point. I decided to stare at my shoes. 

Also, how could he mention Tamlin? He didn’t know a thing about our relationship except that we were broken up and I never wanted to speak of it again. Oblivious to all the embarrassment he was currently causing me, my father extended his hand to Rhys.

Rhys gripped it tightly, his crutch wedged underneath his arm.  I was pleased to see that his grip was firm. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Yes.” My father had suddenly become quite solemn.  “And what are you majoring in, Rhysand?” 

Oh dear.

“International Relations, sir.” 

“And what do you plan to do with that?”

And God bless him, Rhys didn’t miss a beat. “My father is an Operations Manager for a large global company. I plan to follow in his footsteps to manage a large company, particularly--”

I decided that that was enough. “Okay, Dad! I’m going to give Rhys a house tour. What time’s dinner?”

My father gave Rhys a look as though their conversation wasn’t over as I grabbed his arm and hustled him out of the kitchen.  

I forced Rhys up the stairs. “Oh my god. What right does he have to give my friends the first-degree as soon as he meets them? He didn’t try to parent me in high school, so why start now? It’s not like you’re my--”

“Boyfriend?” He smirked. “It was fine, Feyre. I know what I plan to do with my degree.”

“You shouldn’t have to answer to him.”

“Relax,” he said as he followed me up the second flight of stairs. “By the end of this week, your father will love me.”

He met me at the top of the stairs, seeing as I’d stormed up them and he’d had to carefully ease his way up with his boot and crutches. Barely a hand’s breadth between us, he stood with his back to the stairs as I stared up at him. 

“Why waste your time trying to make such a good impression?” I couldn’t take my eyes away from his face. I realized suddenly just how much taller than me he was.

“Consider it a long term investment.”

“Why invest in that?”

He edged around me and set off down one of the hallways. “Show me the house, Feyre darling. Isn’t that what we came up here to do?”

I could think of other things. The thought coalesced inside my mind, unbidden. I was the only one who lived on the third floor of this house. Those things I was thinking of doing . . . wouldn’t be difficult to accomplish here.

Nope. No, no, no. Not an option. 

But as I followed Rhys down the corridor, I couldn’t help. . . wondering what it would be like. Kissing him, touching him, calling him mine. . . 

“Archeron! You coming? I don’t actually know where I’m going.”

I puffed out my cheeks. Shit.

We worked our way through all the bedrooms and living rooms on the second floor and finally made it to the staircase that led to my room, alone on the third floor. It was quite a spacious room, actually, with an amazing attached bathroom. What I didn’t realize was how Rhys would get up the extremely narrow staircase. Technically, the third floor had been something like the servants’ quarters a hundred years ago, now remodeled and modernized. But the fact remained that the staircase was much too narrow for Rhys to get up with his crutches. 

“You don’t have to see my room. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think about it,” I said, glancing down at his foot.

He set his crutches against the wall. “I’m seeing your room, Feyre,” he said confidently.

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, okay then. Do you want to go first?”

“I can walk perfectly fine, Feyre. Chill.” 

“Boys,” I muttered under my breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just get your ass up the stairs.”

“Bossy. I like a woman in charge.”

“Get your ass up the stairs, Rhysand!” 

He chuckled. And began his slow ascent. It wasn’t that he was weak, it was that his boot was big and clunky and he wasn’t technically supposed to put his weight on it very often, according to Madja. On the narrow staircase, maneuvering the boot would be difficult. But he made his way up, giving me an extremely convenient view of his ass through his jeans as he climbed. I followed him until we reached the top and then squeezed past him on the tiny landing.

“Prepare to be amazed. My father ensured I had the room of my dreams even though I’ve never truly lived here. Parental guilt for not really providing for me all through high school.” 

Rhys stood, arms crossed, waiting. 

I sighed. This felt strangely intimate. I’d never had a boy in my room before. I mean sure, Tamlin had visited my dorm a few times but because he was older we had almost always ended up at his place at night. And my room wasn’t really “lived in” seeing as I’d never lived in the house. But it was mine, and I’d gotten to choose all the decorations, all the pictures… everything. 

“Okay.” I turned the door handle and stepped briskly into my room, eager to get this over with. 

Rhys hobbled inside, his gaze floating over the white-covered, four poster bed pushed against the far wall, two large windows on either side. His gaze floated over the dark wood floors, covered by a gray rug under my bed and a pale blue one under the sitting area, complete with a fireplace, couch, and two arm plush grey armchairs. It floated over my bookshelf, filled with all the books I didn’t have room for in my townhouse back at school. And landed on the grey walls, covered with paintings.

Every one of them painted by me. 

There were landscapes, and abstracts, and a few canvases covered only with my favorite book or movie quotes.  

He stepped into the center of the room and halted, turning in place, staring at the paintings. “Did you paint all of these?”

I leaned against my door. “Yeah…” 

He kept looking. 

“That bad, huh?” 

He tore his gaze from the walls of my bedroom. “What? No. The exact opposite. This is--these are-- These are amazing, Feyre. I had no idea you were a painter.”

“I’ve sort of run out of time for it in college. Haven’t painted since. . .” I hadn’t really painted since Tamlin and I had gotten together. “Since the beginning of my freshman year. I miss it,” I said, and suddenly felt the urge to march downstairs and into the garage to retrieve all my old paint buckets, brushes, and the canvases that I knew were waiting for me. 

“Wow. I’d pay money for one of these. You have an incredible talent, Feyre.”  His eyes alighted on the painting hung above my fireplace. “Is that your mother?”

I nodded, smiling a little. “I painted it based off of a picture of her my dad has. She died before I really picked up the hobby. But that’s her.”

“She’s beautiful.”

I nodded and decided it was safe to enter the room. My paintings were a part of my soul. And I realized that if Rhys had looked at them and insulted them, or worse, just skated over their existence, I would have been crushed. Thank goodness he hadn’t. I collapsed onto my bed. I was suddenly exhausted from the morning practice that felt like it had been days ago and the following four hour drive spent with Rhys. He limped over and sat next to me as I stared up at the ceiling. 

“This is why you were so nervous to bring me up here?” He asked softly.

I nodded. 

“Anyone would be crazy not to be impressed by your art.”

“It was kind of a weird hobby to have in high school. I mostly kept it to myself. Not sure why the kids at my school thought painting in your spare time was weird.”

He was silent for a moment, as though debating what to say. Then-- “Well I, personally, find painting in your spare time to be hot.” 

I sat up, my face coming within inches of his. If I moved forward just a bit, my lips would meet his. 

“Incredibly hot,” he went on. 

It was almost as if my body was leaning forward of its own accord.

“In fact, it might be one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard.”

I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re just making things up.”

He smiled and I might have melted a little bit.

“Maybe.” I could feel his breath on my cheek. Minty. Was there anything about him that wasn’t perfect? 

I leaned closer. Consequences be damned. We were inches apart, so close my eyelids had fluttered closed, when--

“Feyre! Dinner!”

“Shit,” he whispered.

I swallowed. “We should go.”

He nodded. “Mmhm.”

I led him back across the landing and down the stairs. I’d reached the bottom step when he swore (again) and---

“Shit!” 

I almost felt him trip before he stumbled forward, and I whirled around, gripping his shoulders in an effort to steady him at the bottom of the stairs. His hands reached out and grabbed my waist as he regained his balance. 

“You good?” I asked, breathing more heavily than I should have been. Heat flared up and down my body from where his hands had set themselves around my middle. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

He still hadn’t let go. I didn’t want him to. 

“Dinner. We have to go eat dinner. Your father probably thinks I’m doing unspeakable things to you right now, Feyre darling.”

Heat flooded my cheeks again. “Right.” And shaking my head, I released his shoulders and as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen, I chided myself for my weakness, for the desire to kiss him that had been growing steadily all day, all week. 

------

Later that night, after a tense dinner with my father, I came downstairs after my shower to find Rhysand and my dad shouting at the television together. Prythian University’s men’s basketball team was on the screen, playing some school I’d never really heard of. Rhys and my father were berating the referees as I took a seat on the couch next to Rhys--a healthy two feet away from him.

Just to be sure.

“I didn’t realize either of you were so invested in college basketball…”

Rhys tore his eyes away from the screen to gape at me, openmouthed. “You go to Prythian and you don’t care about our basketball team? They were in the top four in the country last year.”

I shrugged. “I’m just not that into it.”

“I can’t believe I’m friends with you.” He placed a special emphasis on the word “friends.” I prayed my father didn’t notice his change of tone.

“Hey!”

My dad chimed in. “Can’t say I blame him, Feyre. Neglecting to educate you in team sports has been the biggest regret of my life.”

“Oh, please. You’re both making me feel like public enemy number one in my own house.” 

Rhys poked me in the side and I hissed, then settled back on the couch for the next hour as the pair of new-best-friends shouted and raged and cheered at the screen until, in double-overtime, Prythian won out. 

“Thank God that’s over,” I mumbled, although I was secretly happy Prythian had come out on top in the end.

“I’m dragging you to a basketball game when we get back to campus. Athletes get free tickets. You know that right?”

“Of course I know that.” Nevermind that I’d never used that particular advantage.

My dad stood up. “Well, kids, I’m headed to bed. Feyre, Rhys knows where his room is, right?” He gave me a look. Then bestowed another, different look, on Rhys.

“Yes, Dad. Good night.” I narrowed my eyes and he (thankfully) departed quickly. 

That left Rhys and me, alone in the dark living room. Nesta and Elain had gone off to bed hours ago.  An awkward silence ensued. 

“Well,” I stood. “I guess I should get to bed.”

Rhys followed suit. “Yep,” he said lamely. 

As he crutched after me toward the staircase, I spoke up, just to break the silence between us that hadn’t been there moments before. “I can’t believe how fast you charmed my father.”

He chuckled. “I hate to be so predictable, but I am a man and I do love televised sports.”

I sighed. “I’m not judging.”

We made it to the top of the stairs and I walked him to his room. He paused in the doorway. “I really am grateful though, despite your rather unfortunate lack of interest in sports. Grateful you invited me here.”

“What are teammates for?” I said, remembering what he’d asked me on that night a month ago. 

He smiled a little, as though remembering that night too. “Good night, Feyre.”

“Good night, Rhys.”

It was difficult to refrain from inviting him up to my room to… just to have him near me. But I made myself turn away from him and climb the narrow staircase to my solitary bedroom at the top of the house. 

I’d just crawled into bed when a text came through on my phone. I lunged for the nightstand, knocking my phone to the floor in the process. Relieved that no one had been around to witness such a display of grace and decorum, recognizing how obviously desperate I was for Rhys to text me, I reached down, scooped up my phone, and pulled up my messages.

Tamlin Spring: I heard you took Rhys home with you for Thanksgiving

All the air left my body. 

Tamlin Spring: You never took me home to meet your family. I didn’t realize you were such a slut. Did a year with me mean nothing to you?

Tamlin Spring: I would take you back--if you got on your knees in front of me and begged 

Tamlin Spring: You were only ever good on your knees, anyway

Now it felt as though all the blood had left my body too. 

I threw my phone against the room. I sat up in my bed, face in my hands. I should just ignore his messages and leave it alone. He had no right to comment on what I was doing. Who had even told him I’d invited Rhys home with me for Thanksgiving, anyway? Besides, it was just friends helping friends. Rhys being here didn’t mean anything. It certainly didn’t make me a slut.

But as my phone buzzed again, and then again, as I tried to shut my eyes and shut out what he’d said. . . I couldn’t stop rereading his texts inside my head. Was I just a slut? A traitor for having these feelings for Rhys so soon after ending things with Tamlin?

He would still take me back? Like that was going to happen. But. . . I remembered what he’d said when he’d kidnapped me and forced me to drink…. Something about just giving me space, as though he didn’t think we were actually broken up...

But if he was telling me I was a slut over a text… He’d probably spread that rumor to the rest of the team by now. Along with a story about how I was a cheater too. After I’d worked so hard to stay out of the drama and sexual intrigue so abundant on my swim team. Against my will, tears leaked from between my fingers.

My phone buzzed for a third time and I dragged myself out of bed to retrieve it. I was determined to silence it and cry myself to sleep, but instead of another text from Tamlin, three from Rhys popped up.

Rhys: What was that bang? 

Rhys: I’m in the room underneath yours, I think

Rhys: FEYRE ARE YOU ALIVE

As I read them, another popped up.

Rhys: Don’t make me come up there

I started typing my response, telling him I was fine and to go to bed when a soft knock sounded at my door. I padded over to it and pulled it open.

“How did you get up here so fast?” I whispered.

“Texted as I walked. Obviously.”

“Well you didn’t need to waste the trip. I threw my phone at the ground.”

“Your phone is enormous. The bang caused the elaborate chandelier over my bed to swing ominously. I feared for my life.” He was teasing me. But then the smile melted from his face as he noticed what I was wearing. 

A large grey t-shirt that came to rest mid-thigh. And nothing else. I didn’t even have it in me to blush, I was so intent on not letting him see the tears left on my face. He looked down only for a moment, though, before his gaze settled firmly above my neckline. 

“Thanks for checking on me, Rhys.” I turned to go.

Slut. The word echoed through my mind. I was sure to return to the team to find myself at the center of all the gossip. What would Cassian and Mor think? Would they believe the rumors? We hadn’t been friends for long. I’d barely interacted with Amren and Azriel at this point. They’d surely believe the rumors. 

Rhys caught my arm, taking a few steps farther into my room. “Feyre. What’s wrong? Why did you throw your phone at the floor?”

I had no idea why I gave up so easily, but I brandished my phone at him. He took it from me and I stared at the wall beside his head as he found the texts from Tamlin and read them. 

“What. An. Asshole,” he said through gritted teeth.

“It’s fine.”

He gave my phone back to me. “No, no it’s not. He needs to leave you the fuck alone. He’s not your boyfriend anymore.”

Now I really did turn away. “I don’t need the encouragement, Rhys. He’s right, yeah? I’m just a slut. Moving on way too quickly.”

He raced around to stand in front of me. “No. You are not a slut. Your relationship is over. You ended it the right way. And for good reason, too.  Nothing he just texted you has an ounce of truth to it. You should block him and forget about it.”

I didn’t say anything, just kept my eyes glued to the ground. I didn’t trust myself to look at him. I’d probably try to act on my “slutty tendencies” if I looked into his violet eyes. 

Two fingers hooked under my chin and pulled my face up to his. “Feyre. I promise you. You’re doing nothing wrong.” 

I couldn’t stop the fresh tears that escaped me. How had a few text messages from an asshole managed to upset me so much? Or maybe I was crying in relief that Rhys was so vehemently disagreeing with what Tamlin had sent. Either way, the tears kept coming as he looked at me. And then, slowly--so very slowly--he removed his fingers from my chin and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me toward him. 

I stood there for a moment as he held me, arms hanging uselessly at my sides. And then I hugged him back, my arms coming up and over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. I slid one hand into his soft black hair. “Thanks for coming for me,” I whispered. “And I don’t just mean tonight.” 

He huffed out a breath. “Anytime.” 

I didn’t let go for a long, long time. Until I realized…

“Where the hell is your boot?”

He pulled back, his hands still resting lightly on my waist. “Uh…”

“Rhysand Night!” I whacked his arm. “You walked up here without your boot! Don’t you want to heal?!” 

He put his hands on his hips. It was then that I noticed he wasn’t putting a whole lot of weight on his injured foot. “I heard a large thump and came up here prepared to defend you from a murderer or something, and this is how you thank me?”

I pushed him backward, forcing him to take a seat on my bed. “I can kill my own murderers, thank you very much. Now sit. I’m going to get your boot right now.”

But he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me roughly toward him so I stood between his legs. My hands came to rest on his shoulders to steady myself. “I’m trying to make sure you can train sooner rather than later, you know,” I managed to say, but the thrill at being so close to him like this was overriding nearly every other thought in my mind.

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” 

And then he kissed me. 

I was stunned for only a moment before my hands moved from his shoulders to thread through his silky black hair. His lips pressed against mine, so soft. His kiss was firm, neither too gentle nor too rough, and mere seconds passed before his tongue traced my lips and I opened my mouth, letting him in. 

His tongue swept in and he inched back on the bed, keeping his mouth firmly planted against mine, pulling me onto the bed after him. His size hit me again, then. I was so small compared to him. He removed his lips from mine and he eased me onto my back. Turning, he leaned over me and his mouth claimed mine again, this time slightly more eager, as his right hand moved from my hair, down my side, coming to rest at my waist. I kept one hand firmly entangled in his hair while the other ran down his chest. He was so damn muscular. 

I’d always been a sucker for swimmer’s bodies. 

He pulled away for a moment. “So…”

I let out an irritated squeak of protest, but he slipped a hand beneath my shirt and flattened it against my stomach. I shut up. 

“Earlier you said something about moving on too quickly.” His hand slid up a little bit.

“Hmm, I don’t recall…” I breathed, in a very futile attempt to hide how desperate I was for him to keep touching me, kissing me. More, more, more, I wanted.

His hand inched up, his thumb now caressing the skin just beneath my breasts. I was definitely not wearing a bra.

“What did you mean by that, Feyre darling?”

I tried desperately to suck down a breath as his hand slid up. . . 

“Aren’t you smart enough to figure that out yourself, Rhysand?”

“Rhysand? You cruel, beautiful thing.” 

His hand flattened against my breast and I lost all control as I pulled him down to kiss him again. 

He smiled against my lips, and the joy that flooded through my body as a result of his happiness was almost better than how good it felt to feel his hands on my body, his lips on mine, his weight against me. Almost… 

We stayed like that for quite a while, kissing, not going much farther, before he crawled under the covers, tucked me against him, and we fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAGS:))

@sleeping-and-books​  @musicalfae​

[mochasandwords]

A Knight and His Prince

Synopsys: After filming Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts, Virgil and Roman help boost each other's confidence while finding out new things about each other.

Words: 3,862

Warnings: mentioned abusive relationship, anxiety, Remus, mentioned Deceit, blood, self-deprecation, bruises, kissing, cussing, head trauma, tickling

Virgil

Virgil was shaking as he emerged into the Mind-scape. Why did Remus have to show up? Why did he tell Thomas he used to be a Dark Side? Why couldn’t he be strong enough to protect Thomas, Patton, Logan, and Roman?

Why did he always have to be such a disappointment?  

Virgil’s mind started to spiral deeper into darkness, something that hadn’t happened since he had been accepted as a Light Side. His breath came in sharp, ragged forms and his shaking intensified. He could almost hear Patton telling him to breathe.  

“Virge?” Asked a voice. Virgil spun around to see Roman standing behind him, hand on the back of his head. Just seeing the prince helped calm Virgil. Despite being the reason that Roman had gotten hurt, Virgil had wanted to run and hug him. Instead, he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Hey Princey,” Virgil said with a smirk, pushing down his feelings. Thankfully he hadn’t been crying.

“I thought you would be in your room. You normally go there to recharge after filming.” Roman said, the normally regal tone of his voice gone.  

“I was just taking my time. Checking to see if Remus was still hanging around. What about you?” It wasn’t a lie. He had been taking extra care to make sure Remus wasn’t lurking anywhere.

“I was doing the same,” Roman said. Virgil squinted at him. Roman was paler than normal and his hand hadn’t moved from his head.

“Are you alright Roman?” He asked, “You’re kinda pale.” Roman sighed and pulled the hand away from his head, revealing some blood on it.  

“Remus hit me pretty good.” He tsked, “I should never have given him that stupid morning star.” Virgil frowned and circled to Roman’s backside. He grimaced at the wound on Roman’s head. It wasn’t deep, but there was enough blood to dampen the hair around the wound.

“Come on, this needs to be patched up,” Virgil said, grabbing Roman’s wrist and pulling him toward his room, pushing down the blush that was fighting its way onto his face.

“Why are we going to your room then?” Roman sputtered.

“I have a first-aid kit,” Virgil replied.  

“Oh,” Roman said quietly. Thankfully, Virgil’s room was near-by. His room was closest to the stairs, with Patton right next door, then Logan, and lastly, Roman. Virgil reached for the silver doorknob on his dark oak door and pushed it open. He led Roman into his room and gestured to his bed.  

“Sit there. I’m going to go grab the kit.” Virgil said, releasing Roman’s wrist and walking over to his closet.

Roman

Roman’s wrist felt oddly cold when Virgil released it. He ignored the feeling and looked at Virgil’s room. It was far different than what Roman had expected. For one, it was small. Secondly, fairy lights hung around the edges of the ceiling. They flashed in synch. They reminded Roman of the beats of a calm heartbeat. They grew bright, then faded out, then grew bright again. The lights calmed Roman’s own racing heart.  

It wasn’t his brother’s appearance that had been making his heart race.  

“Don’t make it weird, Princey. It’s just a bed.” Virgil sighed, making Roman jump. 

“Sorry,” Roman muttered, not missing when Virgil froze and looked at Roman over his shoulder, cheeks slightly red. Roman felt his own cheeks grow red, but he moved to Virgil’s bed and sat on the edge. It wasn’t fluffy, but it wasn’t stiff. Roman could jump up from it easily if he needed to, but he could also fall asleep comfortably. Unlike his own bed, there wasn’t a canopy around Virgil’s. Nothing to get tangled in when getting up from the bed. In fact, Roman noticed the bed was directly across from the door.  

The door. It was beautiful.

It was a heavy, dark oak door with a black lever handle. On the side that faced the hallway, it looked like a normal door. On the side that faced the room, though... It had black paint designs like that of vines running along the edges and turned into a rose at the top. Four petals fell from the maroon rose: dark purple, sky-blue, red, and indigo. Another thing he liked about the door, was that he knew Virgil had painted the designs.

Roman continued to look around the room, noticing that three of the walls were a dark gray, and the one across from the door was a dark purple. On Roman’s right, there was a two-tier shelf that hung from the wall and was full of stuffed animals. Like, fifteen on each section. Above the shelf was a drawn picture of Logan, Patton, Virgil, and Roman. ILY was written next to Roman with a big heart above it. The picture was hung in a black picture frame. All around the picture hung other pictures of the other Light Sides. Even Roman was hung in a picture frame.

To Roman’s left was a full bookshelf and Virgil’s closet. Roman tilted his head to read some of the book titles. Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Out of My Mind. Carry On. Les Misérables. Hamilton. Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy. The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are. Wonder. Turtles All the Way Down. Paper Towns. Welcome to Nightvale. Hunger Games. All Quiet on the Western Front. Pet Cemetery. Be More Chill. Dear Evan Hansen. And so many more that Roman liked, didn’t know of or didn’t like very much.  

“Hey, Virge, who gave you all the stuffed animals and books?” Roman asked.  

“Patton gave me all the stuffed animals and pictures. Logan gave me the books. Both were to help me cope with panic attacks. Patton’s gifts go to the right side of the room and Logan’s go the left. My stuff is hung up behind my bed.” Virgil said from inside the closet. Roman turned around to see many posters. 21 Pilots. Imagine Dragons. Skillet. Panic at the Disco. Billie Eilish. Fall Out Boy. My Chemical Romance. Pentatonix. The Nightmare Before Christmas. Beauty and the Beast. The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Lion King. Roman whistled in admiration.

“Impressive!” Roman said.

“Thanks,” Virgil grunted.

“What about my wall?” Roman teased. Virgil’s head popped out of the closet and he raised an eyebrow.  

“Really Sir-Sing-A-Lot?” He asked. Virgil rolled his eyes and nodded to the wall with the door. Roman turned to look at it. The wall was empty. Guilt ripped through Roman.  

“That’s supposed to be yours.” Virgil said, going back into the closet, “Where the hell is the kit?” He muttered. Roman barely heard it. Had he really not given Virgil anything?  

And he hoped that Virgil could ever like him the same way that he liked Virgil?

“Found it!” Virgil announced. Roman saw Virgil stand on his tiptoes as he reached for something up high. There was a shout as Virgil slipped and he fell out of the closet, boxes falling with him.

“Virgil!” Roman cried, leaping up from the bed despite the pain it caused his head. Virgil groaned from his position on the floor.

“Got it.” He smiled sheepishly as he held up the first aid kit, blush all over his face. Roman sighed.  

“Let me help.” He said, reaching out a hand. Virgil accepted it and pulled himself up. They stood side by side, looking at the mess. Virgil shoved the first aid kit into Roman’s arms and knelt down to start putting away the stuff. Roman put the kit on the bed and started to help.

“Get on the bed.” Virgil snapped, “We don’t need you to injure yourself more.”

“Picking up stuff won’t injure me,” Roman said, eyeing the two boxes that had fallen. Virgil growled and started to shovel stuff into a box more quickly. Roman didn’t even have the chance to touch anything before Virgil was done.  

“If you really want to help, the rest of the stuff can be put in that box. I need to find the lid to this one.” Virgil muttered, pointing to the other box. He then looked around, probably trying to see where the box lid could’ve flown to. Roman put the things that were left on the floor into the leftover box with more care than Virgil had.

Roman couldn’t help himself from glancing at the occupants of the other box. He noticed many wrinkled and scribbled on photos. There was a locket, a snake plushie, a yellow shirt, a journal, and a few books. A lid slammed onto the box, making Roman jump. He looked up to see a very upset Virgil. He was worried at first that the anger was directed at him, but he soon noticed that Virgil’s gaze was trained on the box’s lid. Roman tore his eyes away to look at the two-headed snake that was drawn onto the lid. A huge red x was drawn over it.

“...please just ignore all that stuff,” Virgil whispered, his voice wavering.  

“Virge…” Roman started. Virgil ignored him and picked up both boxes, shoving them far back into the closet. Roman sighed, eyes trailing back to the bookshelf. He tilted his head to read a title that had stood out to him before. The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are. Things started to click into place as memories came back to Roman.

There was a knock at Roman’s bedroom door. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Who is it?” He asked. He knew who it was. The obnoxiously rapid and loud knocks gave it away.

“Who else comes late at night?” Remus asked, opening the door dramatically. Roman sighed.

“I didn’t say you could come in.” He muttered.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t,” Remus replied. Roman rolled his eyes and smiled a bit. As annoying as his brother was, Remus had his enduring moments. Though that comment wouldn’t be enduring to the other Light Sides, most likely. Roman scooted to one side of his bed and patted the side of his bed, inviting Remus.

“Shoes off first.” Roman yawned. Remus pouted but obliged.  

“So, what happened?” Roman asked.

“They’re fighting again,” Remus answered, as vague as ever. Roman hummed. Remus had been coming into Roman’s room more and more, wanting a place to sleep. His only excuse was that two people were fighting.

“I think they’re going to be breaking up soon,” Remus muttered, his voice already sounding tired.

“Wait. Romance drama?” Roman perked up.

“Uh-huh. I normally don’t care about that stuff, as you know, but the relationship is… awful. Even by my standards.”

“You don’t have standards.”  

“Exactly,” Remus said. Roman gave him a confused look.

“Look. It’s not a good relationship.” Remus muttered.

“How so?” Roman asked with full attention on his brother. He frowned as he noticed that Remus was asleep. Roman sighed and laid back, kind of wishing he and his brother could switch for a day so he could help the two lovers.

Roman looked back at Virgil, his mind racing.

“Virge. Were you and Dee together?” He whispered. Virgil flinched.  

“Let’s get you patched up, Roman.” He said, climbing onto the bed and grabbing the first aid kit. Roman stayed where he was.

“Roman,” Virgil said, his voice becoming kind of echo-y. Roman sighed and climbed onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in front of Virgil.

Virgil

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Virgil scolded himself in his mind. You just had to fall and grab onto that box. You’re a freaking genius, Virgil. And it opened in front of Roman! Not only the side that loves drama but also the side you have a crush on! You are so smart!

“Virgil. Do you want to talk?” Roman whispered. Virgil jumped and ripped the gauze to small. He sighed in frustration and got a newer, bigger piece. He put it aside and grabbed some peroxide.  

“I don’t know what happened, but we’re here for you. Even me.” Roman said. Virgil couldn’t hold back a scoff.  

“Virgil. I’m not kidding. I know I was a jerk to you in the past and I am so sorry for how I treated you. I had no good reason. I can only guess that you came to our side to get away from the Dark Sides. And I ruined it for you.” Roman sighed. Virgil froze as he started to put on the gauze. Roman turned and gave him a small smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He asked. Virgil puckered his lips. He’s been spending time with Logan. He sighed inwardly.

“Maybe. And if it really means anything to you, yeah. Dee and I were a thing. He’s the reason I left.” Virgil muttered.

“Patton and I used to date,” Roman said.  

“Uh…” Virgil stuttered.

“I thought, if you’re opening up, I can too? Try and take a step in the right direction after all the wrong ones?” Roman asked, blushing a bit. Virgil couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Sorry.” Roman started.

“No! It’s fine! I just wasn’t expecting it! No one’s opened up to me like that before. And I never would’ve guessed you would be the first.” Virgil gave Roman a crooked smile and Roman’s smile returned, his blush increasing. Virgil felt his own face grow red.

“I can see you and Pat. What happened?” Virgil asked hesitantly. Roman shrugged.  

“We just realized we saw each other as friends. Plus, I think Logan and Pat are cute.” He ended off with a mutter.

“I take my previous statement back. They are kinda cute.” Virgil nodded.

“Did the emo side just say ‘cute’?” Roman teased. Virgil’s blush increased even more.

“I-um-you three have been changing me.” Virgil huffed, pretending to pout. Roman laughed.

“Just turn your head back, Princey.” Virgil smirked, pushing Roman’s head back to its neutral position, “I need to put one more piece of gauze on. Did your brother get the sport aspect as well as the good looks? That hit was pretty well aimed.”

Roman whipped around with a gasp and offended sputtering. Virgil snickered, then yelped as Roman pushed him onto his back.

“Take that back!” Roman said, mischief in his eyes.

“Make me,” Virgil smirked.  

Roman

Roman lifted a hand and immediately aimed for Virgil’s stomach. Laughter erupted from Virgil’s mouth as the prince tickled him.

“Evil!” Virgil shrieked between laughs.

“Well if you’re going to compare me to my brother!” Roman smirked. Virgil tried to squirm away, but the creative side had him trapped.

“Mercy! Mercy!” Virgil begged.  

“Take it back!” Roman ordered. He partially hoped that Virgil didn’t. He loved seeing this side of him. Unworried. Relaxed; well, as much as one could be while being tickled. Eyes full of bliss and empty of fear and apprehension. It made Roman’s crush only intensify.  

Virgil’s eyes widened as he stared at something over Roman’s shoulder.

“L-logan!” Virgil announced. Roman fell for the trick and turned to look at the door. With a grin, Virgil pushed him off and bolted out the door, laughing. Roman sat there, processing what had just happened. Then he smiled and leaped up from the bed, chasing after Virgil.

Emile

Emile had been sitting on the living room couch with Remy laying in his lap when Virgil careened down the stairs, threw his jacket over the TV, and hid behind the kitchen counter. Emile glanced at Remy. Remy shrugged sleepily. He was letting Thomas have a nap, so he was a bit tired.

“You and Virgil don’t get along very much, do you?” Emile asked, putting his notebook down on the coffee table next to Remy’s sunglasses and both of their coffees. Remy shook his head.

“He’s changed,” Emile said. Remy gave him a skeptical look.  

“The others have helped him.” Emile pointed out.

“And you,” Remy muttered. Emile tilted his head. He had helped Virgil in passing, but most of the time they had spent together was just hanging out with the others included.

“You two remind me of Edward and Ling from Full Metal Alchemist.” Emile suddenly blurted out. Remy rolled his eyes, but Emile saw the smile on his face.

“How so?” Remy asked.

“Well, you two aren’t exactly like the anime characters, but your relationship is similar. You two argue because-.” Emile started.

“Virgil! You can’t hide! The knight always finds his prince or princess!” Roman said, running down the stairs. Roman’s gaze locked on Virgil’s jacket and he ran over to the TV, searching behind it. He grabbed the jacket and scanned the living room. He walked over to Emile and Remy.

“Have you seen Virgil?” He asked, a huge smile on his face. Emile noticed Virgil crawling out from behind the counters and heading toward the stairs. Virgil put a finger to his lips as he started up the stairs slowly.

“Nop-.”

“Behind you.” Remy yawned. Roman whipped around and grabbed Virgil, holding him bridal style. Both of their faces were red.

“I hate you, Remy.” Virgil sighed.

“Virge.” Emile scolded.

“Right back at ya’. That was pay-back for not letting me and Thomas sleep last night.” Remy smirked.

“Remy!” Emile gasped. Remy’s smile wavered.

“Sorry.” He whispered. Emile sighed and kissed Remy’s forehead, not noticing when Roman carried Virgil back up the stairs.

Virgil

Virgil couldn’t believe how quickly things had escalated. What was more, he was being carried by his crush. Roman carried him back into his room and placed him on the bed before climbing up himself and sitting next to Virgil.

“Did you call me your prince?” Virgil asked, Roman’s words rushing back to him as he sat up. Roman turned as red as his sash. He started to fiddle with Virgil’s jacket, which he was still holding.  

“Maybe.” Roman murmured, “I apologize if it offended you. It just came out. When my adrenaline’s high, my emotions come tumbling out- wait frick. I mean-.”

“Do you like me, Ro?” Virgil asked softly, hope bubbling at his heart. Ever since he had learned that Roman was far different from his brother, he had grown to like him more and more. With each new video, Virgil noticed something else about the prince that he liked. How he always used his hands to express himself. How well thought out his comebacks were. Virgil had also noticed that Roman wasn’t as confident as he tried to be. That was something Virgil connected with and understood. Making him love Roman even more.

Roman let out a strangled cough and nodded.

“Wow. For the romantic side, you aren’t the best at romance.” Virgil smiled. Roman frowned. Virgil, heart racing and hand shaking, reached up to Roman’s face and pulled him down the couple of inches so that Virgil could kiss him on the cheek. Roman lit up again.

“That was romantic?” He teased.

“Hey. I never learned how to romance right.” Virgil pouted, pushing Deceit from his mind. This was one memory he would not let the snake taint. Roman chuckled and pulled Virgil into a kiss. Virgil jumped at first, then leaned into it. He felt Roman’s hand intertwine with his and felt Roman’s other hand wrap around his waist to pull him closer.

Virgil was sad when Roman pulled away.

“How was that for romantic, my Stormcloud?” Roman whispered, sending shivers down Virgil’s spine. Virgil smiled even wider.

“Amazing.” He replied, putting his head on Roman’s chest. Roman laid them back against the pillows, wrapping both of his arms around Virgil.

“I don’t know what happened with you and Deceit. All I know was that it was bad. I promise you, Virgil, that I will show you that you deserve to be loved 24/7. I will always be there for you. I love you.” Roman murmured. Virgil hugged Roman tighter.  

“Can you… say that again?” He asked.

“I love you?” Roman replied. Virgil nodded. The next thing he knew, his head was being peppered with kisses.

“I love you.” Roman said with each kiss, “I will love you until all the stars burn out. We were meant to be.” Virgil snorted.

“Kinda cliché.” He said. Roman shrugged.

“Just being here with you makes me feel complete. If that doesn’t mean anything, then I don’t know what does.” He replied.

“True. I feel it too.” Virgil sighed contently, “I l-love you too, Roman.” Strong arms pulled him even closer, making Virgil feel the safest he had felt in a long time.

“Oh, and you’re way better looking than Remus,” Virgil muttered against Roman’s sash. Roman chuckled.

“You’re more beautiful than both of us. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks, Princey,” Virgil said, voice wavering. Beautiful? He was… beautiful?

Roman wiped away tears Virgil didn’t know he had shed.

“Don’t cry mi amor. It’s true. So true. You are beautiful. So, freaking beautiful.”

Patton

Patton smiled as he closed Virgil’s door. He had been planning to give him some cookies but had backed out once he saw his dark son cuddled up with Roman. He looked at the clock. 8:30pm. How long have they been like that? Patton’s smile widened. Virgil deserved to be happy and Patton knew Roman would give him all the happiness in the world.

He remembered when he had first found Virgil. It was before Virgil’s room had moved. Heck, it was before Virgil had shown up in a video! The anxious side had been curled up in a corner, crying. Bruises had brandished the pale one’s skin, and he had looked like a caged animal when Patton had tried to help him. Even though he had been a Dark Side, no one deserved to be hurt like Virgil had been.

Patton had offered Virgil his room, but Virgil had shaken his head, distrust painted across his face.

“How do I know you’re not him?” He had snarled. Patton had reached out a hand.  

“Anxiety, are you talking about Deceit? I can promise you, I’m not him.” Patton had whispered. He hadn’t known Virgil’s name then.

“Then why are you here?” Virgil had growled.

“I’m here because you’re hurt. I want to help. Please let me help.” Patton’s eyes had been blurred by tears at that point. What had Deceit done to hurt Anxiety this much? Why couldn’t the Dark Sides and Light Sides live together? They could protect each other and talk things out. But maybe it was a good thing that Deceit wasn’t with Patton and his friends… Patton didn’t want to see his friends hurt. Patton had shaken his head. No. No one deserved to be excluded and cast out.

Patton had opened his arms, begging silently that Virgil would run into them. After a few seconds, Virgil had gingerly placed himself into Patton’s arms. Patton had started sobbing and wrapped his arms around Virgil tightly. Virgil had started crying almost instantly and leaned into Patton’s hug.

Patton pulled himself out of the memory, tears blurring his vision. He smiled at Virgil’s closed door before walking toward Logan’s, cookie tray still in hand.

Treat him well, Roman. He deserves the world after what he’s been through.

@stop-it-anxiety @bluedressandreadytoimpress @diamonds-122

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “We’ll Be the Stars” [ 2.11 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER – Tensions are set aside in honor of a promenade, and some students opt for a change of pace. A clever ruse forces Eric and Jack to team up. Unfortunate circumstances make for odd couples, but stars always know where they’re supposed to go in the end.

66 Minutes (18K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← Rarely Pure and Never Simple ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Final Run → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - DAY

A series of shots guide us into the episode, displaying the school in the midst of preparing for promenade. Banners are hung, student council members work the ticket booth. The halls are decorated according to the theme, “We’ll Be the Stars,” small stars seemingly glittering on every visible surface. A promposal wraps up in the hall outside the auditorium, senior students applauding and cheering as the girl says yes and the other girl wraps her in a tight hug.

Yes, it’s prom time at Adams Academy for the Arts. Let the insanity commence!

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

FARKLE MINKUS opens his locker. We’re looking at him from the inside, giving us a look at it as he rearranges some things. Its decor has been updated after a long detour of being trapped in sophomore year -- there are fewer photos, but they are newer and more representative of the way things actually are now. A couple photos of him and Maya are the focal point, but there’s a few scattered notable mentions. A photograph of the full Junior A Class; a picture of his whole family; a rare capture of him and Isadora.

From outside the confines of the locker, we hear RILEY MATTHEWS speak.

Riley: And you’re sure you can handle it? I’m sure if you wanted, we could work out something else --

Perspective shifts back to its usual framing, showing the two of them hanging by his locker. Farkle stems her worrying from the start, holding up a hand.

Farkle: I’m going to stop you right there, Riley. Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?

Riley: … demonstrating concern as a good friend?

Farkle: You’re neuro-splaining me. [ off Riley’s expression ] I get it, you’re concerned about my health. Mentally, above all else.

Riley makes a face, obviously not sold on the concept of “neuro-splaining.” As if she hasn’t had her own mental health experiences… but she figures it’s not worth the argument.

Farkle: But trust me, as much as I appreciate it, I will be fine. [ a beat ] I don’t want to miss out on anything else essential to my junior year experience, and prom is one of those things. Not to mention, I certainly won’t be able to graciously receive my prom king crown if I’m not there to accept it.

It’s clear he’s joking, although with his dry delivery… either way, he’s made up his mind. Farkle will be in attendance at the upcoming event, come hell or high water.

Farkle: Besides, it’s bold of you to assume I could avoid it anyway.

Riley: How come?

Farkle: Prom isn’t just an event around here. [ pointedly ] It’s a contagion.

As he closes his locker --

INT. AAA - CLASSROOM - DAY

For how alight with excitement the halls seem to be, classes are still in session and there’s still work to be done. The energy is tamped down in Cory’s classroom, where everyone is completing silent reading for the last few minutes of class.

Still, Farkle was right, and the junior class has been bitten by the prom bug. Everyone is jittery as they sit at their desks, unable to keep still. Under the desk, ZAY BABINEAUX taps his foot to an unheard rhythm. MAYA HART flips her pencil in her fingers, adding to the rhythm against her desk.

CHARLIE GARDNER glances up at the clock, impatiently watching the seconds go by. Tick, tick, tick… as the percussions slowly evolve into an actual beat...

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “You Should Be Dancing” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

The bell rings about 7 seconds in, releasing the class from their academic torture. CORY MATTHEWS cringes as the energy in the room skyrockets, papers flying as the energetic juniors are free to succumb back into the groove.

Zay kicks off the vocals, the number staying in the classroom for the first verse as he volleys lyrics back and forth with Maya. As they escape into the halls…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Charlie takes over, leading the charge into the rest of the school. The three of them are the front of the pack, but they pick up other junior students as they go. The whole atmosphere of the halls has changed, feeling groovier in the midst of the twinkling stars and amped up music.

Around a minute and a half in, they pass by Riley and Farkle and pull them into the dance. The movements become less chaotic and more choreographed at that point, truly a spectacle only AAA could pull off.

As they pass by the techies hanging out on the stairs outside the auditorium, it seems even they aren’t immune to the allure of prom fever. They jump up and join in the parade, JEFF MONROE in particular worth spotlighting due to his breakdancing ability.

And away they go again…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

By the time they make it into the auditorium and onto the stage, the vibe of their collective imagination has completely succumbed to fantasy. The stage is basically a disco floor as they dance their way up there, the only thing still remaining commonplace their outfits.

And by this point, they’ve paired off. Farkle and Zay stay front and center -- a fun little duo to witness tolerating each other again, if nothing else -- with Maya and ISADORA DE LA CRUZ to their left and Charlie and YINDRA AMINO to their right. In the back, ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO are grooving together, while Riley Matthews gets LUCAS JAMES FRIAR to at least do something.

As they finish out the jam, Farkle and Zay theatrically toss their heads back and raise a hand to the sky. Declarative, with a flourish, what a dynamite finish. One thing is essentially guaranteed on this prom week, that’s for sure.

There will be no shortage of drama.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Zay is at his locker, swapping out his dance duffle for his classwork. When Maya practically jumps him and surprises him at his locker, he’s not fazed -- he might be the only student at AAA who she doesn’t strike instant fear into in one capacity or another.

Zay: What do you want, mini Britney?

Maya touches her hand to her chest, faux flattered.

Maya: You’re so sweet. I was just thinking that you and I have a real opportunity on our hands this week.

Zay: Must everything be about an “opportunity?”

Maya: Ugh, would you stop being such a damp toilette? Your mood has been totally subbasement the last couple of weeks and it’s really harshing the vibes.

Well, Maya, he did just break up with his boyfriend. But people not knowing about them was kind of sort of the whole problem, so he says nothing as he allows Maya the floor again.

Maya: Chin up, Zayby. It’s promenade. And you and I are going to come out of it as royalty.

Maya makes her grand pitch: they should go to prom together. Not out of any romantic interest -- although, as she admits, Zay is by far the most eligible male in the walls of AAA -- but because the two of them would be a shoo-in for junior prom king and queen if they team up.

And like everything else at Adams, there is an opportunity attached. Every year, the duos crowned as prom king and queen in both grades get to perform at graduation. It’s a time honored tradition, one that Maya believes they should not pass up.

Zay: I don’t really see what the big deal is.

Maya: Oh, Zay. Isaiah! Wake up! Snap out of whatever quarter-life crisis funk you’ve succumbed yourself into and smell the potential right in front of you! [ matter-of-factly ] You know that there are always college representatives at Triple A graduation. Of course, it’s to honor the students they’ll be bringing into their ranks, and to hopefully snag some quality time with a celebrity family member or two -- I mean, think how many people are going to be swarming our graduation next year when Valerie comes to support Isadora --

Zay, flatly: Yeah, I’m sure she’s so excited about that.

Maya: But it’s also to scout the next crop of graduates. That’s us. It’s almost cosmic that every junior prom king and queen end up going to amazing schools for the arts -- there was even that junior prom queen in ‘96 who got a straight up recording contract.

Zay: How the hell do you know this stuff?

Maya: Because I do my research, Zay. And I know you do, too. Which is why once you’ve shaken off the ennui and have your head back on straight -- or, bi, whatever -- you’ll realize we have prime real estate in front of us. And it’s ours to take… if we step up to the plate. [ backing away ] You know where to find me.

Well, that’s certainly a proposition. Maya floats away as Zay contemplates it, slinging his bag over his shoulder. It’s a good point, he can’t argue with that, and yet…

He glances to the photo of him and Charlie, still taped up in his locker innocuously amongst the rest. In some ways, it seems, it’s just hard to let go of the way you hoped things would be.

Zay closes his locker, heading on his way to rehearsal.

Dylan, pre-lap: We’ll boycott.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Dylan and Asher are following Lucas into the booth, obviously in a heated discussion. Dylan continues to make bold declarations.

Dylan: We’ll stage a full-on protest. You know, when I was in middle school, I was renowned for my poster-making skills in environmental club. They usually lasted like, nine days longer than usual before people tore them down. And Cory is always saying how loud and annoying I am -- that has to be helpful for a protest, yeah?

Asher: He said that to you?

Lucas: Guys --

Dylan: Or even better --

Asher: I swear, I’m going to report him. Like, sorry Riley --

Dylan: Let’s stage a riot. That’ll really show ‘em! They think they can bar Lucas James Friar from prom? Not when we’re there to literally blow the roof off this place. I bet we can get Isadora to sing “Bad Reputation” -- I think we’d need music to be taken seriously here, so --

Lucas: Hey. Hello. Earth to Asher and Dylan. [ clapping ] Let’s cool it, alright?

Lucas waves off their concerns about his ban from prom. He doesn’t want them wasting energy on him when it hardly matters. All things considered, being barred from stuff like this for the rest of the year seems like the best he could’ve asked for given all the bullshit he’s done this year. He slouches into his rolling chair, shrugging.

Lucas: I mean, it’s not like I was really psyched to go anyway. I think I’m more lucky I didn’t get expelled.

Dylan, under his breath: Would’ve boycotted that too.

Lucas: You guys have been looking forward to this for the last three years. It would be stupid for you to blow it just for me. Especially when we consider everything else you’ve already sacrificed for me. Like your sanity. And your clean legal record.

Dylan: I wasn’t mad.

Lucas, bluntly: You should have been. Asher was, but then, he’s always been the smartest out of the three of us.

A beat of quiet as that truth lingers between them. Lucas reiterates the point -- that he doesn’t want them to give up something they care about just because of him. They do enough of that already. Asher and Dylan exchange a look.

Dylan, softer: … well, we love you, man.

Lucas: I know. [ looking at them, then slowly ] And I love you guys, too.

Well, there’s a breakthrough! Dylan beams, looking to Asher in excitement. Asher is smiling too, although a bit more bashful. Lucas elects to move past the vulnerability quickly -- he can give it, but only so much at a time.

Lucas: Which is why I’m not letting you do this. You’re going to prom, and you’ll have a great time without me. Besides, someone has to give whatever posh performers are gunning for prom court a run for their money.

True enough. In fact...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

That’s exactly what the rest of the techies are discussing as they start doing end of year inventory. It’s a long process, so they have to start early. Rather, they’re complaining as Jeff and DAVE WILLIAMS pick their way through the furniture and wood supplies under the prop loft. NATE MARTINEZ is supposed to be taking notes, but he’s not doing a great job.

JADE BEAMON is seated on a stack of wood pieces, nodding along as she feverishly works on the finishing touches to a wardrobe piece. It doesn’t look like a costume for any sort of production, however…

Nate: It’s rigged, anyway. Every year the most popular performers win so it’s not like the institution means anything.

Jeff: Does prom court mean anything… anywhere? Ever?

Dave: My parents were prom queen and king when they were seniors. They got a free dinner at Waffle House.

Jade: [ tearing a thread with her teeth ] Sounds like a better prize than performing at graduation.

Inspired by their complaints, Nate lights up with an idea. He claims that they should start a new tradition to go with their holiday party, and should throw a techie pre-prom bash. That way they can celebrate their year together and have real fun before they have to go deal with the performers all night.

Jade: You know, I think that’s the first idea of yours I’ve liked in months.

Nate bows, then enthusiastically gives Dave a high-five.

Their tomfoolery is interrupted by Isadora entering, all of them growing uncertainly quiet. She hesitates but then marches onward anyway, greeting them with the best attitude she can muster. She just came by to drop off some paperwork for them -- she already went ahead and inventoried the wood and set building supplies. This is good, because Nate definitely wasn’t doing it.

Jeff accepts her record, looking it over.

Dave: When did you do that?

Isadora: Oh, I just skipped Matthews’ class. [ offhandedly ] I could ace that class with my eyes closed, so. And probably brain damage.

It’s a nice gesture, and they’re not going to refuse it. Jeff awkwardly thanks her, silence settling over them once again. Isadora clears her throat, clasping her hands together. She expresses that she knows she messed up with them, and she is going to put in the effort to get back in their good graces.

She spins and escorts herself out without waiting for a response, leaving the four of them to contemplate her promise. Interesting development…

Dave: So… we don’t have to count the wood?

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Charlie is having lunch with HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ, although he doesn’t seem nearly as enthused about prom as they are. On the other side of the cafeteria, applause erupts again as another promposal between seniors gains public attention. So happy, so romantic!

Clarissa: I swear, nowhere in this school is safe right now.

Haley nudges Clarissa, claiming that she should be less cynical. It takes a lot of bravery to ask someone to prom in front of everyone else.

Clarissa: Yes, well, then they could just have a conversation about it. Or make a big deal about it, but like, between the two of you.

Haley: I think it’s romantic.

Clarissa: You think everything is romantic. You’re the most hopeless romantic I’ve ever met.

Haley: Charlie is too -- you agree with me, don’t you, Charlie?

In all honesty, Charlie was not listening. He blinks himself out of his daze, blankly agreeing with whatever Haley said. Clarissa rolls her eyes.

Haley goes to explain how much courage it takes to do such a public proposal. It demonstrates what you’re willing to go through for the other person, how much you like them. Charlie admits that it’s not exactly an act of bravery to ask someone who you know will say yes -- especially when there’s no stakes involved for either of you.

Haley: Well, there’s always stakes. You know, even if you think you know someone, they could always say no. And there’s a lot at stake with a rejection… you know, especially if it’s… [ looking at Charlie intently ] between good friends…

Whatever hint Haley is trying to lay down, it’s going right over Charlie’s head. He shrugs, claiming he might not even go to prom. He’s just... not feeling it this year. Haley is mortified, Clarissa looking between the two of them apprehensively. This seems like a recipe for disaster.

Meanwhile, the techies are enjoying lunch at their usual indoor table when NIGEL CHEY approaches. He greets them before turning his focus to Jade.

Nigel: … hey, Jade.

Jade, shy: … um, hi.

Nigel: I, uh… I just had a quick question. I was wondering if, uh --

All of the techie eyes are on him, making this whole situation a lot more intense. Dylan is watching with wide eyes, wondering if what he thinks is going to happen is about to happen. Jade might be holding her breath. Nigel pushes up his sleeves nervously, clearing his throat.

Jade: … yes?

Nigel: I was just… [ quickly ] I had a question about the costume you made for that number last week. It’s actually… it’s nothing, I’ll just ask you about it in class. Sorry, ha ha. Didn’t mean to interrupt.

Jade: … oh. Okay.

Clearly not what he actually intended to ask. Nigel backs off awkwardly, making a quick escape. Jade tries to hide her disappointment. Asher and Dylan exchange a look across the table, shaking their heads. Pathetic!

All of the missed prom-portunities are forgotten, however, as soon as Maya and Zay arrive to kick off their pronouncement of going together. Evidently Zay agreed, because here they go…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Greedy” as performed by Ariana Grande || Performed by Maya Hart & Zay Babineaux

It’s been a while since we’ve endured a good old disruption in the cafeteria during lunch hour, and this time Lucas is less likely to pull the fire alarm than ever. So Maya and Zay take full advantage of it, bringing up the energy with their talent and an undeniable bop.

They make a point of pulling other people into it at their tables, and of course, Maya is going to climb up onto the tables in her heeled boots. It’s not quite the same full-blown jam session as “Looking At Me” from earlier in the season, but people seem to be into it and in the general prom mood. Spirits are high!

Well, mostly. There is one pointed shot of Charlie forcing a smile as everyone else grooves along, likely wishing he could be anywhere else.

It’s not so much a promposal as it is… a spectacle, but boy, do they know how to put on a show… once they wrap, Maya makes the official statement that they’re campaigning for prom royalty, and if people have any taste, they sure know who to vote for come prom night.

Given how naturally glamorous the two of them are, up high on the table top and looking fresh as ever, it’s hard to argue with that!

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Riley is hanging up her dress for prom, a classic and simple lavender floor-length number. She’s fretting over it as she vents to Maya, expressing that she’s still debating the whole upstate move thing Topanga has saddled her with.

Maya: Well, do you want to move?

Riley: I… it’s not that simple.

Maya: It should be. Either you want to go, or you don’t.

Riley: Yes, but… I mean… there’s lots to think about.

Maya: She said it was your choice.

Riley: Yeah, well, my mom says a lot of things she doesn’t mean, so…

Maya: Have you talked to Cory about it? He might have some insight. Or like, Eric?

Riley chews her lip, avoiding the question. Maya straightens up, asking if anybody knows about this potential move other than the two of them. Riley has plenty of excuses ready as to why she hasn’t mentioned it to anyone else, but Maya isn’t interested in hearing them. She claims she at least, at least, needs to tell Cory. He deserves to know, lest another life-changing thing get sprung on him with no warning.

Maya: Believe me, as the girl with no parents because of sudden life-altering moves, you owe him that decency.

Youch. Well, that’s tough to debate. Riley absorbs it, focusing back on her dress and smoothing it out nervously.

INT. GARDNER HOME - ROSIE’S ROOM - NIGHT

ROSIE GARDNER is chilling on her bed with her laptop, listening to pop music and humming to herself. Charlie comes and knocks on her door, pointedly until she takes out her earbuds.

Rosie: Ugh, yes? Can I help you?

Charlie: You’re so nice. How about, hey, Charlie? How was your day?

Rosie: I’m fourteen, I have the right to be obnoxious.

Charlie: I wouldn’t say it’s a right so much as an active choice.

Rosie groans, asking him what he even came in here for in the first place. He asks if she has anything going on this weekend -- perhaps they could go do something together. It’s been a minute since they did some brother-sister bonding.

Rosie: I dunno. I guess we could go see that new Chris Evans movie. I think it’s coming out next weekend, and I’m probably free Saturday --

Charlie: … well, I was thinking more this weekend. Specifically. Like not next weekend. This weekend.

Rosie: I know what this weekend means, weirdo. [ looking up movies ] Why are you so set on that? Isn’t it prom this weekend?

Charlie: … well, you know, it’s not a big deal. I was thinking I probably wouldn’t even go anyway, so.

Rosie, offended: Charlie! Ew, no, you can’t not go to prom. Don’t be lame, you’re embarrassing me.

Charlie, scoffing: This has nothing to do with you! You don’t even know anybody I go to school with.

Rosie: Yes, but by Gardner law, I’m associated. Just go with your friends! It does not have to be that deep.

Okay… fair point. Charlie questions if her blatant disgust means they’re not going to the movies, and she claims next week… after he doesn’t embarrass their family name by going to prom like everyone else. So much for finding a clever way out.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Speaking of clever escapes, JACK HUNTER is still struggling to find a way out of the Bradford debacle. So much to the point that he’s now elected to share the issue with Lucas, sitting opposite him with ERIC MATTHEWS as they get him up to speed.

It’s obviously not the kind of thing you want to hear. Lucas is hiding his head in his hands, cursing to himself before turning back to Jack.

Lucas: How long have you known about this?

Jack: … a couple months --

Lucas: Months?

Eric tries to keep stress levels at a manageable level, taking over for Jack in explaining exactly what the suit entails and what the Bradfords are hoping to gain from it. Essentially, they’re hoping that publicly printing Jack’s “questionable” enrollment processes will force his hand. Either he’ll cave and let her enroll regardless, or public dissent will push him to oust Lucas, making room for her in his vacant spot.

Jack, reassuringly: Which will not happen.

But for it to gain any traction, it needs to smell somewhat of a scandal (even if it isn’t) -- which is why they’ve targeted Lucas as their student to blame. They’ve obviously done their research. And between Lucas’s unique situation for enrollment, his lack of participation in the more showcased elements of the school, and his behavioral record…

Lucas, exasperated: I’m guessing stealing a car didn’t help!

Jack frowns. It’s clear he didn’t want to get Lucas involved if he could help it, and seeing this stressed reaction from him is exactly why. But Eric placates them both, reminding them that the fight isn’t over until it’s over. They will be able to brainstorm a way to fix this -- it’s just going to take a concerted effort.

Eric: We will be able to make this work. But it’s going to take a team effort, and total cooperation. You have to trust us, Lucas, and you have to be willing to cooperate. Can you do that? Can you work with us?

What a question, and posed to the notorious school troublemaker at that. But Lucas doesn’t want to leave AAA -- let alone be forced out. He sighs, tilting his head back and swallowing his pride before nodding.

Lucas: Okay. Yeah. [ serious ] Just tell me what to do.

He looks to Jack, meeting his eyes. Ready to do whatever it takes.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Charlie is at his locker, relaying the rejection by his own sister to Riley. She’s leaned back against the lockers, listening sympathetically as he points out another crappy addition to what has been a crappy last couple of weeks.

Along those lines, Riley questions if Charlie still thinks he might transfer to a different school. He hasn’t heard back from Haverford yet, but is he still seriously considering the notion?

Charlie, diplomatically: Given that Zay and I were able to lay everything out there and at least confront the reality of our situation, I don’t think it’s really a necessary maneuver anymore. I mean, the situation is far from ideal, but that I can deal with. I’ve been living in far from ideal my whole life.

Riley: Sad, but sort of inspiring, I guess.

Charlie: I will admit though… it was kind of nice, going through that whole process. Just going out there, you know, proving that I could do things. That I was capable. [ smiling to himself ] If anything, at least I came away with that.

Riley mirrors his smile. Then they’re back on the subject of prom, Charlie lamenting that he doesn’t see what the point is of going if he can’t be there with the person he would actually want to spend it with.

Riley: Considering my ideal date has literally been banned from all school activities and therefore can go nowhere near it, I think I can say I relate.

Charlie: Tragic.

Charlie mentions what his sister said about not making it that deep and just going with friends, and this seems to strike something in Riley. A smile drifts onto her face.

Charlie: Oh no. I know that look. What are you thinking?

Riley: Just that dear Rosamund might have a point. If we are going to be miserable and repressed all night long, then we should at least be miserable in good company.

Charlie: … I don’t know if I like where this is going…

Riley turns to face him, a mischievous smile on her face. She leans in conspiratorially -- her delivery would be more convincing though if she wasn’t so inherently cute.

Riley: Charlie Gardner! [ in a whisper ] Will you go to prom with me?

Charlie stares at her, expression betraying nothing. She matches his gaze, wiggling her eyebrows. Then he can’t help but crack a smile.

Charlie: Well when you look at me like that, how could I say no…

Riley grins, bouncing on her feet and lightly punching him on the shoulder.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The first step to putting Lucas in less jeopardy -- actually participating in class. He’s meeting with HARPER BURGESS to discuss how to make his optics better in that regard. Unfortunately, there’s really only one thing he can do…

Harper: If you do even one performance, then at least you’d have something to point to if the case attempts to jump down your throat.

True. Although he looks like he’d rather die, Lucas reluctantly accepts that point. So it’s official -- he’ll be performing a number this week!

Harper: It’s for the best, actually. Everyone else is so consumed with prom fever, they won’t even remember it happened.

Zay: Are you kidding? It’s Lucas James Friar. No one is ever going to forget this.

Lucas: Yeah, um, [ pointing to Zay ] what is he doing here again?

Harper gestures Zay forward to join them. She explains that considering Lucas is literally starting from scratch, he’s going to need help when it comes to choreography. And singing. And well… basically all of it. She figured Zay is one of their best performers and far more willing to lend a hand than, say, Maya. If Lucas wants a chance of pulling off a decent performance, having his help would be his best bet.

Harper: That is, of course, if you’re up for it, Zay.

Zay: Honestly, I would welcome the distraction. It’s been… an interesting few weeks.

So that’s that. We’ve got the team, we’ve got the plan -- time to make shit happen! Even if it kills Lucas in the process. As the backbeat floats in…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Think He Knows” as performed by Taylor Swift || Performed by Dylan Orlando (feat. Asher Garcia)

Two AMBITION firsts in one, as Dylan kicks off his first mostly solo performance by bringing Taylor Swift into the song catalogue. He starts off at his locker, giving us a glimpse into the interior which despite the mess is basically as bursting with love as he is -- full of photos of his friends, his family, and Asher.

Of course, there’s Asher.

And that’s what he’s focused on as he slides into the pre-chorus (“He’s got that boyish look that I like in a man, I am an architect I’m drawing up the plans”). When he sings “It’s like I’m seventeen nobody understands,” he sure means it, because he is seventeen, and nobody does understand. Whew, Taylor really just knows how to write ‘em!

Then he launches into dance, strutting his way down the halls with a definite spring in his step. It’s nowhere near as elaborate as performer choreography would be, but it’s charming and just sharp enough that it’s clear Dylan’s got some real talent.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Dylan takes the number into the auditorium, making his way over to the prop loft where he’s guaranteed to find Asher. There’s a brief sequence he basically serenades Asher from down below, scaling the fence around the set pieces until he convinces him to come down. The whole thing is dynamic and fun and a little bit theatrical, humoring their classmates as they watch from the stage before class.

On the bridge, Asher takes over the vocals, taking Dylan’s hand and leading him through the backstage areas. Dylan follows along happily, waiting until they’ve reached the other side of the stage to pull him back towards him. Asher presses their foreheads together (“Where we gonna go… I whisper in the dark… where we gonna go…”), then drifts away as Dylan belts out the note that throws us back into the chorus.

The final swell of the song takes place center stage, surrounded by classmates and with nothing but good energy. The techies are laughing along, cheering, and even the performers are enjoying the rendition. Dylan and Asher sway together in a circle with the beat, doing a final spin under Dylan’s arm before falling back together and breaking into laughter to take it home. The A class breaks into applause, Asher pulling Dylan down into a quick kiss.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you prom-pose!

In the high energy after the performance, Nigel casts another glance towards Jade across the stage. It seems like he really might do something, and she definitely acknowledged his eye contact… but then nothing.

Isadora also notices the exchange, curiosity piqued. She raises her eyebrows, Sherlock brain turning before Maya pulls her into a conversation about how the twink performance was clearly not better than hers and Zay’s… right? Right?

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Isadora brings up the notion while hanging out with Maya and Riley, the three of them spending an evening together to map out prom logistics. She questions if either of them noticed it too, or whether Nigel has ever even shown interest in their classmates before. Maya claims he’s never dated anyone in their class, and Riley states that maybe he’s just shy.

Maya scoffs, focused on painting her toenails a shiny silver.

Maya: Look, Nigel is lean meat. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s talented, but the boy has no moxy. He has let Farkle walk all over him for three years, when if he just put like, a crumb of effort in he may have already had a lead by this point.

Riley: You know, it could be that he just… doesn’t care that much.

Maya: Well that was his first mistake.

The point is, if Nigel does have interest in Jade -- which Maya doesn’t get, because she forgets who Jade is half the time -- then it’s more than likely he will do absolutely nothing about it.

Isadora: That’s too bad.

Maya: I mean… I guess.

Riley: Maybe they just want to go with their friends. Prom doesn’t have to be inherently romantic, you know. [ off Isadora’s nod ] I mean, I’m going with Charlie, and --

Maya: Wait. [ sitting up ] You and Charlie are going together?

Riley: Yeah. But, like, just as friends.

Maya: Oh… oh. That’s… interesting.

There’s a plot twist. If Riley’s unnerved by Maya’s tone, she has the right to be. It’s an odd moment, and it’s only subdued by Cory calling for the girls from the living room. There’s a surprise here for them!

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

And what a surprise it is. Maya practically screams when she finds KATY HART in the living area, having just arrived with VALERIE DE LA CRUZ. She runs over and launches into her arms, the two of them hugging tightly.

Maya: Oh my God, what are you doing here?

Katy: Val helped me. Paid my way, so that I could be here for prom.

Isadora: No way?

Valerie: Oh, it was nothing. Hardly a penny out of my pocket. I know how much it meant to me to be here for this weekend -- figured the least I could do would be to allow a good friend the same opportunity.

Certainly no arguments here. Maya and Katy hug again, elated. Cory and Riley exchange smiles, Cory pulling her to his side and into a hug.

Valerie pulls Isadora aside, greeting her and stating that she wants to do something special after prom. Like a girls night, deglam and rejuvenate and catch up. Deglam being key, because Valerie knows Isadora is going to look stunning. She can’t wait!

Isadora is totally open to the idea. She nods, matching her enthusiasm.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack is at his desk, going through the Bradford paperwork. He’s flagging and highlighting every potential point he might have to refute in an argument, emails open on his desktop of pitches he’s going to send to school board members for support if the complaint breaks.

Eric pokes his head in and knocks on the door pointedly.

Eric: Knock knock.

Jack: Who’s there?

Eric: Stop obsessing.

Jack: Okay, we’re done with the bit --

Eric smiles, leaning against the doorframe. He knows Jack is concerned, but he’s already thought so extensively about this problem. He needs to take a mental break from it, before he burns himself out. Besides, there’s always the chance that it won’t even ever go public.

Yes, a chance… but a chance isn’t a guarantee. Jack claims he just wants to be prepared for the worst, which Eric can’t exactly argue against.

What he can do is change the subject. He states he wanted to double check that they’re both still on for chaperoning the dance on Saturday. Jack confirms, wondering why plans would have changed.

Eric: Well… you know, given your own personal circumstances, I just figured you might not want to --

Jack: Eric, I’m fine. [ with a shrug ] After all, what better distraction is there from the shambles of your personal life than watching out for a bunch of rowdy, dramatic teenagers all night long? Can’t think of anything better.

Eric: At least your humor is still intact.

Jack makes a face, accenting the point.

Zay, pre-lap: Okay, literally, what the hell is the matter with you?

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Zay is attempting to teach Lucas choreography, but it’s clearly far from easy. Not that that’s surprising, but it’s evident that Lucas was not meant to be a dancer. It’s a challenge unlike anything Zay has ever confronted before, regardless of how hard Lucas is trying.

Zay: I don’t -- like, is your brain connected to your limbs? How is this not clicking?

Riley enters, brightening when she finds them both. She asks how everything is going, and the look that both of them give her basically answers her question for them.

Riley: I hope I’m not interrupting.

Zay: No, you know what? It’s good. I need a break. Rome wasn’t built in a God damn free period. [ pointing to Lucas ] Don’t go anywhere with your two left feet, Fry Pan.

Lucas holds out his arms. What do you want from me? As Zay marches off, Riley tries to hold back her smile as she joins Lucas at center stage.

Riley: So seems like it’s going good, then.

Lucas: Oh, haha. [ making a face ] You know -- and this may shock you -- I’m not a dancer.

Riley, gasping: No. You’re kidding?

Lucas: I know, I know. Brand new information.

Riley smiles, asking to take a look at Zay’s choreography sheets. Lucas hands them over, Riley hopping onto the stacked acting blocks and reading them over for herself. He watches her as she reads, only shifting his gaze to his feet when she glances up to look at him.

She says that all things considered, the choreography isn’t so bad. He just has to keep working at it, and the whole thing is pretty low stakes anyway.

Riley: What even made you decide to do a performance? I have to admit, I never thought I would see the day.

Lucas: … well, with everything I did this year, figure it’s the least I can do. Just putting the karmic cycle back in balance.

Riley: You believe in karma?

Lucas: Could be. Either way, mine is shit. Objectively speaking.

Riley gives him a look. She glances back down at the papers and then states she’s sure he’ll be fine, and she for one is looking forward to the show. He rolls his eyes.

Lucas: You know, they have words for people who demonstrate ridiculous belief in unreliable things. It’s called blind faith. Usually it’s reserved for important things though. Gods, governments. Conventional belief systems.

Riley: Well, I’m nothing if not unconventional.

Lucas, quietly: Yeah.

The tension between them is palpable, even with the fair amount of space between them. They hold each other’s gaze, another one of those moments where they can’t seem to look away from one another. If it were possible, they might just stand there and look at each other forever.

Fortunately -- or maybe unfortunately, depending on your perspective -- Zay keeps that from happening. He reenters and tells Lucas to get ready to run it again, totally oblivious to their lingering moment. Riley hops off the acting blocks as Lucas clears his throat, directing his attention back to Zay.

Riley: I’ll get out of your way. Good luck. [ smiling ] Both of you.

Zay waves her off, sending her on her way. Once she’s gone, he turns back to Lucas and lets out a grand sigh.

Lucas: Now you’re just being a bitch.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

Jade is in the costume department, ignoring the task of organizing the leftover fabrics from this year and painstakingly attempting to fix the project she’s been working on all week. When someone enters she jumps and tries to hide the garment, straightening up and nervously looking towards the doors.

It’s not who she was expecting. Isadora enters, pushing a costume rack.

Isadora: Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.

Jade: No, it’s okay. I’m just um… it’s fine.

Isadora nods, bringing the rack all the way in. She explains that she got a head start on the inventorying of the costumes, and all the ones on the rack here are finished. She intends to put them back after theatre lab, if that’s alright.

Jade, surprised: Um… sure. Yeah, that would be helpful.

Isadora: Great. [ a beat ] I really am sorry, Jade. It wasn’t intentional, but I know I dropped the ball when it comes to pulling my weight on our team. [ hesitant ] And our friendship.

Well, Jade isn’t going to tell her otherwise. She shrugs lightly, acknowledging the apology but not necessarily accepting it quite yet. It’ll take time, and Isadora gets that. But she’s said her piece, and now all she can do is keep working to make reparations.

As she’s heading out, though, she decides there’s one more thing she wants to say.

Isadora: About Nigel.

Jade: Huh?

Isadora: Nigel. If you want to go to prom with him… then you should just ask him yourself. Don’t wait around for some boy to do the job right when you’re perfectly capable of doing it -- and probably better. He’s chicken, but the way he’s been looking at you… I’m pretty sure he would say yes.

Something to think about, at least. Jade considers it as Isadora exits, leaving her alone with the costumes.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Riley has joined Charlie, Clarissa, and Haley for lunch. As they chat the notion of Charlie and Riley going to prom together comes back up, Haley visibly taken aback by the reveal. She starts to question how that came to be, obviously struggling to accept it, when their conversation is totally derailed by Maya paying a visit to their table.

Although she’s all bright smiles, the tone is mildly threatening as Maya confronts Riley and Charlie. She also is questioning their union for promenade, wondering if their admittedly perfect cookie-cutter image is intent on also campaigning for prom court. Because it would sure be a shame for them to have to go head to head…

Maya might be built like a pixie, but the threat behind her words resonates loud and clear. Charlie shakes his head, stammering to correct her thinking.

Charlie: Oh, we’re not --

Riley: We weren’t planning to --

Yeah, no. It’s a no. This seems to appease Maya, who relaxes and turns back on the charm. Still, her friendly laughter still feels ominous as she wishes them the best, and reminds them not to forget to vote for her and Zay for prom king and queen come Saturday evening.

Clarissa shakes her head, reiterating her former stance.

Clarissa: Nowhere and nothing is safe.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Eric is putting on his most encouraging counselor smile, sitting across from Isadora and Farkle. He’s just wrapping up a pitch, stating that considering they’ve become such good friends in the last few months, he thought maybe it would be a good idea for them to go to prom as a duo. Just as friends. Pals, looking out for one another! Good, old, promenade buddies.

Farkle seems entertained by the mere suggestion. Isadora looks unamused.

Isadora: So you want me to babysit him.

Eric: That’s -- that’s not what I said.

Farkle: That’s basically what you said.

Eric tries to save face, but he forgot he’s dealing with the two most intuitive (and judgmental) students in the junior class. They see right through his facade, recognizing this tactic for exactly what it is.

Isadora: Also, what makes you assume I don’t already have a date?

Eric: … well do you?

[ Farkle looks to Isadora, raising his eyebrows. When she huffs, he cracks a smirk. ]

Isadora: No, but that’s not the point.

Eric relents, talking to them straight. Yes, they want Farkle to have company at the dance due to his history over the last few months. Ideally, this would be a small ask, considering they are friends and would likely be hanging out at the event anyway.

Eric: You are friends, yes?

Isadora: Request pending.

Farkle: I think of it more as intellectual sparring partners.

There’s really no good way to respond to that. Eric requests that they consider the option, as it would be a favor to him if nothing else. Give him a little peace of mind.

That’s just the selling point he needed to flex. Isadora glances between them, then sighs, claiming Farkle will pick her up when she decides he will.

Eric is thrilled, and Farkle doesn’t look all that opposed either. This, he claims, is a good thing. They’re thwarting problems before they even arise. No problems for junior prom this year!

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Clarissa runs into Charlie, concerned. She takes his arm.

Clarissa: Problem. Big problem.

When Charlie asks her what the heck is going on, she states that Haley has finally broken down. She’s up in the costume loft and is refusing to talk, and she’s effectively decided she is not going to prom. Whatever crazy plague is running through their class, it’s finally hit her.

Charlie sighs, nodding and telling Clarissa he’ll handle it. He takes off at a jog towards the auditorium.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

Haley is sitting amongst the costumes, wiping tears from her cheeks. When Charlie pulls himself into the loft it almost makes it worse, Haley shaking her head and telling him to go away.

Haley: As if this could not get any more humiliating.

Charlie: Hey, don’t worry, I have had… my fair share of breakdowns up here.

He settles down next to her, in the exact spot he was crying just an episode ago. He waits patiently for her to acknowledge him again, asking her why she’s so upset. Clarissa told him she wasn’t going to prom -- what’s that all about?

Haley shrugs, huffing and avoiding eye contact with him. She shakily admits that some part of her always thought… maybe it was stupid, but he really doesn’t get it. They can be friends for years, spend all this time together, and he still has no idea. And she just… she feels like such an idiot. All of this is just so stupid.

Charlie pauses, searching for how to tread cautiously.

Charlie: If we’re being honest with each other… I know.

Haley: You -- you know. You know that I --

Charlie: Yeah. I have for a while.

Haley: Oh God. [ hiding her head in her knees ] That’s even worse.

Charlie: It’s not, Hales. You can’t help who you like. [ a beat ] Although, still being honest… I don’t really think you do.

Haley lifts her head, frowning at him. She asks what he means, and Charlie tries to figure out the best way to articulate what he’s thinking.

Charlie: Believe me, I speak from experience here, but I think it’s… really easy to become in love with the idea of something. Things that seem easy, and perfect, if they could just work out a certain way. So we fall in love with those ideals, rather than the way things actually are.

Haley: So, what? You think I’m just making everything up?

Charlie: No, I believe some of it is real. I believe you love me -- and that makes sense, because I love you, too. We’ve been friends for years, like you said, and I can’t imagine what my time at Triple A would be like without you. I don’t want to.

[ Haley wipes her eyes. ]

Charlie: But I think, realistically, that’s all we’re ever going to be. And I think you know that, too -- it’s just safer to keep things the way they are now. Where you never get what you think you want, but then you never get hurt, either.

Haley: … okay, you’re kind of freaking me out here. Get out of my head.

Charlie, laughing: Like I said, talking from experience.

A quiet moment passes between them. Charlie goes on to state that Haley shouldn’t give up her junior prom, especially not over him. They’ll both be there, and they’ll still get to spend the evening together with Clarissa and Riley and the rest of their friends. It’ll be fun, even if it’s not the fantasy they imagine in their heads.

Charlie: And as for the rest of it… I guess you and I will both just have to see what the future holds. Rather than hiding behind expectations we know we’re never gonna meet.

A tough pill to swallow, but important. Haley exhales and then nods, giving up. Trading out the fantasy, but perhaps for the better. She gives him a smile.

Haley: I do love you, Charlie Gardner. That much is true.

Charlie returns the beam, accepting the hug she gives him.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Jade is standing outside the black box, watching Nigel chat with Yindra and NICK YOGI. Dylan and Asher stand behind her, hyping her up as she gears up to do the impossible.

Asher: Just be yourself. Be straight-forward.

Dylan: Go in there and get what you came for.

Jade: Right. Sure. [ a beat ] What if he says no?

Dylan: Sock him.

Asher glares at him, Dylan shrugging before smiling to himself. Asher takes the more serious approach, bracing Jade’s shoulders from behind.

Asher: If he says no, then it’s his loss. You’re Jade Beamon --

Dylan: Jade motherfucking Beamon!

Asher: And he would be lucky to get even an evening of your time. [ patting her shoulders ] Go get him, queen.

Dylan lightly nudges her forward, Jade taking a deep breath. Then she marches into the classroom, approaching Nigel and tapping him on the shoulder.

When he turns around and meets her eyes, for a second it seems like she’s going to run. But she squares her shoulders, clears her throat, and speaks as confidently as she can.

Jade: Nigel.

Nigel, surprised: Jade?

Jade: We should go to prom together. If you want to. I mean -- you should want to go with me. But only if you do. The point is -- will you go to prom with me? Maybe?

The back and forth between assertive and timid is jarring, but also quite charming. Nigel takes a moment to fully absorb what’s happening, but the smile that blooms across his face is near instantaneous.

Nigel: Yes. Yeah, I’d -- I’d like that a lot.

Jade: Great! I mean, um, great. Good. I’ll text you with details.

Nigel: Okay. Great.

Jade: Great. Okay… great.

Jade spins on her heel and marches back out, Yindra and Yogi exchanging wild looks. But Nigel is fully endeared, obviously not at all opposed to this turn of events.

As Jade escapes back into the hall, Dylan and Asher mob her with congratulatory hugs and pats on the back! She did it! Jade Beamon is going to prom with Nigel Chey, baby!

In tone with the celebratory mood, the bold brass opening floats in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I’ve Gotta Be Me” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Lucas James Friar (feat. Zay Babineaux)

Another AMBITION first for the bucket list, Lucas gives his first almost solo performance, with a Broadway number, and that isn’t fueled by pure rage. Zay is on stage with him to help with the choreography, but in some ways that’s a nice way to help take the pressure off. It’s sort of like a dress rehearsal rather than an actual performance.

And look… it’s not great. Lucas is not a performer, and he was never pretending to be. But it’s passable, and honestly the vocals aren’t half bad. There are even a couple of rare, fleeting moments where it seems like he might actually be having fun.

The real fun is for the audience though. His classmates are near entranced by the spectacle, having watched Lucas do nothing but grump and roll his eyes for three years straight -- and especially the majority of this year. Farkle is watching with his jaw dropped open, blankly stunned. Riley is hiding her fond grin behind her hands, shaking her head. Isadora is openly laughing, but with him rather than at him. Even Jack and Eric came to watch, thoroughly amused, and maybe a little bit proud.

The techies are cheering along the entire time, and when Lucas gets through that last note and hits those last steps with Zay, they leap to their feet and give him a standing ovation. Given the year he’s had, the uproarious applause sort of feel well-deserved.

He survived, God damn it, he survived!

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

Jade is leading Asher into the floor level of the costume department by both hands, the latter having been instructed to keep his eyes closed. He’s playing along, but nervously, reminding Jade that he hates surprises and also hates not being able to see.

Asher: You know going blind is one of my anxieties.

Jade: Everything is one of your anxieties. But hold on, we’re almost there.

She gets him right in front of where she’s hung up her latest project, pulling back and instructing him to open his eyes. He does, seeing the surprise and expression growing shocked.

It’s a pair of suit jackets, custom-made for junior prom. They align with the theme in terms of the subtle allusions to stars and shimmering elements factored into the design, but they’re inverse in terms of colors -- one mainly creme-colored with darker accents, and the other dark with lighter accents. Matching, but unique. And clear labors of love, from a seamstress who knows her craft.

Jade explains how she got the idea to make them, how she wanted to make sure they were clearly a matching set like Asher and Dylan, but also distinct from one another.

Jade: We just used to talk all the time about how fun it would be to have custom stuff for prom, when we got there one day. And you used to always talk about what you and Dylan could wear, but then would get all embarrassed, as if that was silly. Like it would never happen, that you couldn’t last that long. [ a beat ] Well, we got here, and I just figured after the hell year we’ve had…

Asher is staring at them, speechless. He’s tearing up, at a loss for what to do. Jade takes the impending waterworks as a bad sign, searching for a way to recover.

Jade: I mean, if there’s something you’d like better, you can just tell me. Or if you already picked out tuxes, that’s totally fine too, you don’t have to wear them --

Asher interrupts her nervous rambles, barreling her with a hug. The embrace is tight, and although there are tears the tone in his voice conveys that they’re happy.

Asher: I love you so much.

Jade beams, getting choked up too. She hugs him back.

Jade, teary but laughing: I love you, too.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Prom night is upon us! There’s a flurry of activity at the Matthews apartment, making it more lively than its been in months.

AUGGIE MATTHEWS is there to help Riley get ready and spend the weekend with Cory. Riley is obviously happy that he’s there, grinning when she emerges from the hall in her gorgeous lavender gown and he jumps up in excitement. She questions where their dad is and Auggie nods towards the fire escape, Cory visible through the window.

EXT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Riley delicately climbs her way out onto the balcony, Cory going to help her through when he notices she’s trying. Once they’ve got her upright, he gets a good look at her and goes soft with fatherly pride.

Cory, softly: You look lovely.

Riley smiles, both of them adjusting further out onto the fire escape. They take a moment to look at the scenery of their street, throwing a couple of jokes back and forth about how she’s going to prom with Charlie and whether or not Cory should be worried (he should not at all).

After a moment of quiet, Riley pecks up the courage to speak on what she really needs to say.

Riley: When mom called a couple weeks back, it wasn’t just to check in. She, um… [ off his wary expression ] She wants me to come upstate, too. For senior year.

Cory: … oh. [ swallowing hard ] Oh.

Riley: I’m not telling you because I’ve made any sort of decision, yet, or anything like that. I’m going to take the time to really… really think about it, and make sure I make the right choice for me. [ a beat ] But I just… wanted you to know what was going on. And also that no matter what happens, I’m still with you. I’m not going to leave you alone.

Cory nods, trying his best to accept it. Riley hesitates, deciding if she wants to continue.

Riley: Regardless of what I choose though… I need to be clear that I can’t be in the middle anymore. I love you both, but I am tearing myself apart trying to keep up with the constant back and forth. Trying to keep things civil in this family when I don’t think that’s supposed to be my job.

Cory: It’s not… Riley, I never meant for --

Riley: I know. And part of it is me -- feels like I’m always looking for other things to focus on and fix rather than myself. [ with a deep breath ] But I can’t keep living like that. I need to start focusing on myself… and that comes with setting boundaries. I love you, dad, but I can’t carry your baggage with mom anymore. It’s your fight, not mine.

Cory hesitates, obviously feeling guilty. Then he nods, assuring her that he’ll try his best to remember that. He doesn’t want to make this any harder for her than it already is. And if she’s trying to get him to hear her, then he’s listening. He really is going to try.

Riley smiles lightly, leaning forward to pull him into a hug. He returns the embrace, stating that he’s grateful he gets to be here with her on this important night. They pull apart, Cory fixing a piece of her hair.

Cory: Absolutely beautiful.

She smiles again.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Katy and Maya are sharing a similar bonding moment. Katy has taken over eyeliner duties, adjusting Maya’s makeup with her expert hand. She claims Maya has a tendency for overdoing it, which makes her laugh.

Maya: Tell me something I don’t know.

When she’s all finished, Katy looks at her daughter lovingly. She looks stunning, in a beautiful silver and white dress and blonde hair glossy as ever.

Katy: Like bona fide royalty. [ touching her chin ] No matter what the votes say.

Maya grins. She pulls her into an embrace.

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

JENNIFER MINKUS is nitpicking at Farkle, brushing off the shoulders of his navy suit jacket. He tells her to stop fussing, but she requests just one more second. She reaches up on instinct to fix his hair then remembers there’s not as much there as there used to be. Then she smiles, bracing his shoulders.

Jennifer: Beautiful boy. Perfect.

The housekeeper claims that the driver is downstairs, so Farkle should start heading out. STUART MINKUS shares an exchange with him as he’s in the entryway, offering him a Minkus good luck charm. It’s a silver lapel pin, a little crest shape related to their family coat of arms.

Stuart carefully pins it to Farkle’s lapel.

Stuart: You know, I wore this when I went on my first date with your mother -- and look where we are now.

Farkle, scoffing: It’s not -- this isn’t that kind of…

He doesn’t finish the sentence, letting it trail off. Stuart’s expression is amused, claiming he doesn’t quite buy it, but relenting for now.

When he finishes and smooths the lapel to crisp perfection, he takes a moment to really take in his son. Still with him, still standing in spite of everything that’s unfolded. It’s clear that there’s something he wants to say to him, heavy with the same weight that him sleeping at his hospital bedside all through his recovery held.

Yet, the words still don’t exist. Emotional expression has never been paramount in the Minkus household, and old habits die hard.

Instead, he pats his shoulder bracingly and wishes him luck. Jennifer comes to join Stuart as Farkle steps out, both of them wishing him a good time. Have some fun! This is your night of freedom, soak it up for all it’s worth!

Isadora, pre-lap: I don’t see how much fun it could be when we’re being watched by faculty all night long.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - ISADORA’S ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora is seated at the vanity in Eric’s guest room, the space she’s taken over while staying with him. It seems that per their last conversation, Eric is keeping to his word with Valerie and is giving Isadora an actual legitimate place to stay in the mean time rather than Blue’s couch.

She’s sitting impatiently as Lucas stands behind her, braiding pieces of her hair to complete her prom look. A hidden talent, perhaps? It looks pretty, to say the least. He plainly states that she’ll be having more fun than him no matter what, there’s little doubt about that.

As he wraps up the last braid, Isadora pulls on her Converse and carefully gets to her feet.

Lucas: What, no heels?

Isadora: Are you kidding me? I think I’d break my ankles.

Lucas: Very “I’m not like other girls” of you.

Isadora: This is not about faux-originality, this is about my comfort and safety. As well as the safety of others.

The shoes hardly put a dent in the overall ensemble anyway. She’s in a gorgeous dark blue number, accented with a sheer layer of star patterns and custom designed by one of Valerie’s designer friends. It’s certainly not her typical ensemble, but she makes it work. Beautiful, but still a force to be reckoned with.

Lucas smiles, lightly punching her shoulder. He tells her she looks good, and she nudges him back before saying thanks.

Lucas, more serious: Sorry I can’t be there. To be there for you.

Isadora: It’s whatever. Be sad for your own sake, not mine.

Eric calls for Isadora from the hall, the two of them heading towards the door.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric is adjusting his suit and tie in the hall mirror when there’s a curt knock at the door. He goes to open it, delighted to greet Farkle on the other side. He gestures him inside, Farkle awkwardly making his way in and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Both of them soften when Isadora emerges from the hall, obviously exceeding expectations. Eric tells her that she looks great -- Farkle says nothing, because he has no words. How are you supposed to react when your intellectual sparring partner shows up looking like that?

For a moment, all of them just hang awkwardly in the living area. Lucas clears his throat, scratching at his neck. That’s as good a cue as any, and Eric claims they should get going if they’re going to get there early to help set up. The price they pay, carpooling with a chaperone.

Eric ushers them out, giving Lucas a pat on the shoulder and telling him he’ll drop him off at his destination for the first half of the evening. And away they go! As their door closes…

INT. GARDNER HOME - NIGHT

Another opens, Riley standing bright and smiling on the doorstep of the Gardner home. AMBROSE GARDNER takes care to greet her cheerfully and help her inside, asking if there’s anything he can get her.

She should be grateful that the sanest member of the family met her first. ELEANOR GARDNER excitedly comes in from the kitchen moments later, greeting her enthusiastically and wanting to know a million things about her. Of course, they’ve heard so much about her already -- feels like Charlie is always talking about her!

From the living room, Rosie and DAISY GARDNER watch curiously.

Daisy: She’s pretty.

Rosie: Yeah.

Daisy: How did Charlie manage to get that?

Rosie: Shh.

As if summoned, Charlie rushes down the stairs. He looks charming in his relatively simple tuxedo, the touches of purple in his tie and pocket square perfectly accenting Riley’s dress. She gives him a hug as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, all of the Gardners eyeing them as they interact in front of them for the first time.

And to be fair, they look lovely. They seem near classic, the picture of prom perfection… but it’s so… boring. Whatever spark of flirtation Eleanor thinks she’s seeing between them, it’s absolutely nothing.

Still, she insists on getting some photos before they go. Charlie is embarrassed, but he allows it. As they’re assembling against the wall by the door, he leans over to whisper to her.

Charlie: Sorry about this. You look great, by the way.

Riley: Thanks. You too. And it’s fine. These’ll be great pictures to show my kids someday.

The choice of “my” rather than “our” is very pointed. Charlie gives her a look, elbowing her and earning a giggle out of her. Eleanor captures the moment, claiming that’s the perfect one.

Then Charlie tries to plot their escape, claiming they really should get going. Ambrose thanks Riley for driving -- Eleanor jokingly warns them not to stay out too late! A-wink!

Charlie looks like he’d rather be dead. Riley holds back her laughter as they escape into the night, the whole family sending them off cheerfully.

Once they’re gone, Ambrose and Eleanor exchange thoughtful looks.

Ambrose: She seems nice.

Eleanor, “knowingly:” Mhm… pretty…

Yeah, she really thinks this is something else. As she saunters back towards the kitchen…

INT. ORLANDO HOME - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “That’s What I Like” as performed by Bruno Mars || Instrumental

The techie pre-prom gathering is in full swing, the techie jams playlist on shuffle as they get ready together and mingle. Some of their parents are also in attendance (and likely to have a party of their own once they get them the hell out of there), namely LEVI GARCIA, EMILY GARCIA, and of course RANDALL ORLANDO.

Randall subtly interrupts a conversation between Lucas and Jade, where she’s just finished commenting on how nice it is for this gathering to be snapback free. It’s true that Lucas does stick out like a sore thumb, in his plain old blue flannel and jeans rather than dressed up like the rest of them.

The two of them exchange a bit of small talk before Randall gets to the point, asking Lucas about how things are going. Considering the last he heard about everything was literally picking up Dylan from the police precinct because of the joy ride, it stands to reason that he would be interested in knowing since he’s let Lucas back in his home since then.

To his credit, Randall has also been more of a dad to Lucas than his own, in spite of how avoidant Lucas can be. So he tells him the truth, stating that it’s been better but it’s also definitely been worse. He apologizes for what happened with the joy ride, and assures him that he’s banking on that sort of thing never happening again. Randall gives him a nod and a pat on the shoulder, approving.

The moment is interrupted as Nate gets their attention, using a cooking spoon as a faux microphone as he plays MC. He thanks them all for coming (which Dave and Jeff jeer at) before claiming he has the distinct pleasure of introducing their host and his paramour for the evening, showing off their custom-made, never before seen Jade Beamon originals.

Nate: First up -- you know may know him as Dyl Pickle, vlogger extraordinaire, the deviant who once stuck a whopping thirty-two sticky notes to Shawn Hunter’s back in one class period. He’s as gay as they come, in every sense of the word. Host of the evening and renowned “kissing expert” --

Asher, from upstairs: NATE!

Nate: What? He told me to say it! Anyway, let’s give it up for the one-of-a-kind Dylan Blake Orlando.

All of them cheer theatrically as Dylan comes downstairs, sliding down the banister and hopping onto the bottom step. He shows off the suit jacket Jade made, looking even fresher and fun actually on him than just hanging in the costume loft. He spins and hams it up for a moment, then backs off so Nate can continue.

Nate: Equally as effervescent, our other star of the evening is not to be discounted. He’s smart, he’s sharp, he’s the scariest person you will ever meet if you piss him off or forget to organize the paints in alphabetical order. King of production design, prop mix master, puts the Ash in Ash Cash Money --

Dylan, taking the spoon: The love of my life --

Nate, taking it back: Hey, this is my gig! I didn’t ask for ad-libs.

Jeff: Drunk on power…

Nate: Anyway, let’s give it up ladies and gentlemen for the only one of us with any class, Asher L. Garcia!

Asher jogs down the stairs, looking equally as iconic in his custom suit jacket. He does a small spin as well to give the item it’s due moment, Dylan cheering the loudest of all of them.

Randall: Very nice, very good. Now, could I get a moment with my “gay vlogger sticky note” son?

The techies all cheer and laugh at his take, Dylan sliding across the hardwood to meet him. Jade and Asher link up, the former taking his hands and practically bouncing as she proclaims how good the suits turned out. They look amazing!

Lucas looks around at all of his friends, glammed up and excited. Distinctly left out of the excitement, only this time not by his own choice. Somehow, that’s worse.

He’s pulled out of it as Nate declares they still have one order of business, the seven of them regrouping. Dylan slips back into the circle between Asher and Lucas.

Nate: Now, as with any good tradition, we have some firsts to establish. And this shit is important -- it may be the most important thing we do in our lives at Triple A.

Jade: Speak for yourself.

Nate: As we know, the prom court institution at Adams is royally corrupt. It’s the same shit every single year.

Dave: Nothing new.

Jeff: Same old shit.

Nate: And to that, the techie tots say no more. We will be crowning our own reigning royalty this year, and that honor happens tonight. Without further ado --

For what it’s worth, the only two that don’t seem to know what’s happening are Asher and Dylan. They watch in confusion as Dave retrieves two pin cases from his interior pocket, handing them to Jade and Lucas respectively. Then they turn to face them, grinning wide at the stunned expressions on Dylan and Asher’s faces.

Nate: Congratulations, Pickle and Bird Bones. You’re fucking royalty.

Jade and Lucas move forward, pinning the brand new charms to Asher and Dylan’s lapels, respectively. The pins are small medals, the band being monochrome like techie uniforms and the metal piece a small crown.

The true kings have been crowned. Whatever happens next hardly matters.

Jade: Okay, we have to get out of here before Asher cries again.

Randall and the parents swoop in, insisting on one group photo before they all head out to wreak havoc. At first Lucas steps out of the photo, allowing them their classy group photo, but then all of them shout for him to get in the picture as well.

EXT. ORLANDO HOME - NIGHT

Dave leads the charge down the steps to the “party van,” i.e. their techie van they use for Home Depot runs. On the steps, Dylan and Asher hang back and check in with Lucas one last time.

Asher: You sure you don’t want to come?

Dylan, sing-song: We could sneak you in...

Lucas knows they damn well mean it. But he waves them off, assuring them that he’ll be fine. They need to go have fun and not worry about him for a night.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Good Love (Feel Like This)” as performed by Sir, Please || Performed by Nigel Chey (feat. Dave Williams, Nick Yogi, and AAA Juniors)

And so it is. Asher gives him a pat on the arm and then they’re off, leaving Lucas on the steps alone. He watches his friends head out without him, bittersweet smile on his face.

As the groovy rock hit floats in…

INT. PROM VENUE - NIGHT

Prom roll up! The event is hopping, the large ballroom space beautifully decorated towards the stars theme and everyone’s appropriately matched outfits shimmering under the low lighting. The brightest lights are geared towards the DJ stage, which alternates between a sound system and live performances.

At present, Nigel is giving a riveting vocal performance while the junior and senior class parties on the dance floor. Dave is backing on guitar, Yogi on the keyboard, and other B Class students filling out the rest of the band.

Jade, Dylan, and Asher are right by the stage, Jade watching him perform with a mix of shyness and excitement. Every once in a while, he’ll look over at her and crack a smile.

Dylan and Asher are distracted when Isadora wanders over to join them, all of them immediately complimenting one another on their one-of-a-kind outfits. Dylan gives her a hug. Asher asks how it is being accompanied by Farkle Minkus, which Isadora claims isn’t terrible -- but it’s not particularly enchanting either.

Meanwhile, Farkle has just met up with Riley and Maya. They ask him how his evening is going so far -- is he having fun? It’s not too overwhelming, is it?

Farkle: Oh, yeah. Sweaty room, loud music, constant surveillance, date who didn’t even want to go with me. Time of my life, girls. Undoubtedly.

On the opposite side of the room, Charlie has just made his way over to the refreshments. He reaches for the ladle for the punch just at the same time as Zay, their hands brushing before they look up and lock eyes.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. They just take one another in -- well-groomed, nice tuxedos, the most they’ve even really seen of each other since the break-up -- before Zay manages to say something.

Zay: You look… classic.

Innocent enough. Charlie laughs nervously, nodding.

Charlie: And you look…

He can’t finish the sentence. What’s he going to say? No word is good enough. And where they are right now doesn’t allow for him to say what he’s actually thinking.

Thankfully, Maya swoops in and unwittingly throws him a life preserver. She interrupts their conversation, claiming that she needs for Zay to come dance with her lest people get the impression she can’t hold her own on the dance floor. She pays Charlie the same compliment in that he looks nice, before reminding him to vote Zay and Maya for prom king and queen!

Charlie: Okay, if you keep saying that, someone is going to murder you by the end of the night.

Maya: Attempted assassinations are just part of the job description.

Farkle regroups with Isadora, finding her amidst the crowd. The two of them stand in silence for a moment, absorbing the chaotic scene around them. Farkle eyes Jack and Eric across the room, talking to one another and not paying any attention to them, then leans down to whisper in Isadora’s ear.

Farkle: You wanna get out of here?

Isadora looks around at her classmates and teachers before her gaze lands on Farkle. She smiles, somewhere between a smirk and genuinely sweet.

EXT. COURTHOUSE - NIGHT

Valerie emerges from the courthouse, seemingly in much better spirits than the last time she was there. She inhales a deep breath of fresh air, blithe smile on her face.

INT. HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

Katy opens the door to her hotel room, surprised to find Val standing on the other side. She’s carrying a bottle of champagne and doesn’t wait for an invitation to march inside. She tells Katy to grab a couple of glasses, they are celebrating!

Katy, uncertainly: Good news, I’m guessing?

Valerie: You know, in this industry, they tell you the most important thing is to hang on. Hang on by the skin of your teeth, dig your fingernails in, and never let go. Who would’ve known that applied to the rest of this crazy, mixed up world too?

Valerie pops the champagne and pours a glass for her and Katy, raising her glass.

Valerie: I persevered, and only good things have come from it. [ sublime ] Isadora is going to be mine. We’re going to be a real family.

Katy happily cheers to that, both of them taking a drink from their glasses. They settle down on the couch in the suite, Valerie absolutely giddy with the news. She can’t wait to tell Isadora. Katy can imagine -- she knows how important it is, having time with her baby girl.

An idea seems to strike Valerie in that moment, eyes widening. She reaches out and touches Katy’s arm, excited.

Valerie: You’ll come stay with us.

Katy: Wh -- what?

Valerie: Yes, yes, you’ll come back to New York and you’ll stay with us! You, me, Maya, and Isadora. The four of us will live together, four rough and tough, talented women surviving the concrete jungle as a team.

Katy: Oh, I don’t… I couldn’t --

Valerie: Katy, you belong here. In this city, with your daughter and your dreams. If I have proven anything in this endeavor, it’s that it’s never too late to change course and achieve something you never thought possible. [ a beat ] You belong in Manhattan, with Maya. Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted in the farmland of Vermont.

Katy processes that, taking another sip of her champagne. If a Hollywood starlet is telling her she’s meant to be here, then who is she to refuse it?

Katy: Alright. Alright, then!

Valerie claps excitedly, already abuzz with so many new ideas.

Valerie: Oh, this is so exciting. This is amazing! Isadora and Maya are going to be over the moon. This is a bigger deal than when my good friend and mentee Lizzo basically single-handedly saved the R&B industry.

She raises her glass again for another toast. Katy grants it, their glasses clinking together.

INT. PROM VENUE - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Dance Again” as performed by Selena Gomez || Instrumental

The lighting is more aesthetic and dimmer as the prom goes on, the junior class out grooving on the dance floor. We get shots of different combinations of them dancing -- Charlie is with Haley and Clarissa, Jade and Nigel are giggly as they get comfortable with one another, Dylan and Asher are upholding their reigning title as cutest couple.

In the midst of the festivities, Eric grows concerned as he realizes he can’t find Isadora. Farkle is nowhere to be found either -- and that’s because they’re not there. They’re long gone, someone having disappeared right under his nose.

Eric grabs Riley from the edge of the dance floor, asking if she’s seen either of them. She claims not since they first got here… is everything okay? Eric doesn’t respond, pushing through the crowd to try and get a better look.

He’s surrounded by teenagers, and yet none are the two he’s specifically supposed to be keeping an eye on. Just as he’s on the verge of panic, Jack comes to his side and asks what’s going on. What’s with the look on his face?

Eric, breathless: Isadora -- and Farkle -- they’re not -- I can’t find --

Jack: Okay, relax, alright?

Eric: Relax? I lost two children!

Jack: Okay, we’ll find them. Alright?

Jack drags Eric out of the center of the room, passing by HARPER BURGESS as they go. He tells her she’s in charge, guiding Eric out of the venue.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LIVING AREA - NIGHT

Lucas emerges from his room with a box, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and clearly down to business. He and GRACE FRIAR are operating with relative ease, indicating that their third household member isn’t home at present.

He places the box on the table in front of her, claiming that he’s gone through it and he needs her to go through it too so they can decide whether or not to donate it. Grace seems intrigued, but not opposed to the idea.

Grace: Spring cleaning?

Lucas: Something in my life might as well be in order.

She chuckles a bit at that, although the joke is admittedly somewhat dark. She starts going through the contents, hesitating before telling Lucas she’s sorry that he didn’t get to go to prom. He shrugs it off, but his aloof facade has worn thin over the week.

Grace gives him a warm smile, stating that he’ll be able to go next year.

Lucas: Yeah, let’s see if I make it through this year first.

Valid point. Lucas leaves her to keep going through the stuff, agreeing they should get rid of it either way before Kenneth gets back.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S ROOM - NIGHT

Lucas steps back into his closet of a bedroom, sighing at all the junk there still is to go through. He frowns when his phone vibrates in his pocket, growing even more confused when he sees who is calling. He answers.

Lucas: Hello?

Jack is on the other end of the line, already on the road with Eric.

Jack: What are you doing right now?

Lucas, flatly: Crystal meth.

Jack: Okay, you jest, but you’re really not in the position to be making those kind of jokes right now.

Lucas asks what’s going on, and Jack explains the situation. He asks if Lucas has seen or heard from Isadora, and he says no. When Jack requests that he go search that side of town, just drive around and take a look, Lucas seems skeptical.

Lucas: Aren’t you forgetting? My license is suspended.

Jack, unimpressed: Am I really supposed to believe that makes a difference?

Lucas: … fair enough. I’ll do whatever.

Jack assures him if he gets into any trouble, he’ll help him out of it. They just need to get a trace on them so Eric can breathe again. Lucas grabs his denim jacket, heading out.

INT. DINER - NIGHT

Isadora and Farkle, thankfully, are not engaged in anything remotely nefarious. They’re just making an evening out of it all their own, having escaped prom to seek refuge at a non-descript diner across town.

Farkle is way more enthused by the prospect than Isadora. He’s practically jittery, tapping his fingers on the table and unable to stop grinning. He claims this is the most fun, the most freedom, he’s had in months.

Isadora: Okay, calm down, edgelord. It’s not that deep.

Oh, but perhaps it is, Isadora. Farkle leans further into the theatricality, dramatically stating that he doesn’t think there’s ever been a night quite like this. Full of this… energy, and mystery, and potential. Can’t she feel it? In homage to the number that’s just about to come into play, Farkle sits up so that he’s sitting on the booth seat, rather than in it.

Isadora: Okay, what are you doing? Sit down.

Farkle: Can’t you just feel it? And how… how we start thinking --

Isadora: Start thinking what?

Farkle: How wonderful it all is.

Isadora: How wonderful what all is?

Farkle: Everything.

Isadora: Now you’re just talking nonsense. Did you take too much medication this morning? What are you on?

He, Isadora, is on life. The freedom of tonight, how good it feels to just be out and adventuring and… alive. In fact, he thinks, it might need some expressing…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “A Lovely Night” as performed by Cinderella Original Television Cast Recording || Performed by Farkle Minkus (feat. Isadora De La Cruz) [ starting at 4:20 ]

Farkle pushes his way out of the booth and starts sauntering through the diner, Isadora leaning out after him and whispering for him to come back. But he’s already on his way as the instrumental comes in, meaning there’s no hope. This singing train has left the station!

So he kicks off the first verse, singing the fantastical lyrics about how absolutely perfect the evening is. Somehow, it actually works, brightening up the drab, everyday diner and adding a splash of something special and unique.

It helps that Farkle is crazy and completely unapologetic as he takes over the space, the other patrons hesitant at first but then endeared by the performance. Farkle sings the first line about a “charming prince” to a gaggle of middle school girls, who all collectively lose their shit when he turns away from them. To them, for all intents and purposes, all suave in his prom suit and singing so elegantly, he is a prince charming.

Isadora might be starting to figure that out too, as she watches in disbelief while Farkle pulls other diners and workers into brief stints of choreography. By the time he makes it back over to her table in the second verse, he leans forward on the table and sings the lines “darling, I love you” while looking right into her eyes.

Part of the whole act? It’s impossible to tell.

Then he pulls her up from the booth, into dancing with him through the diner as the dance break commences. Although she’s hesitant at first, Isadora is more surprised by how not averse to the experience she is. Farkle is a good dancer, at least this kind of dancing, and it’s not long before she finds herself grinning and laughing along.

They spin their way towards the front, right out the doors…

EXT. DINER - NIGHT

And out into the city, the world aglow with nightlife and even more emphasized by the unreal quality of the dance. It feels very La La Land. They continue the pas de deux through to the end, Farkle picking up the lyrics again for the final rendition of the chorus.

They end it spinning in a circle in the parking lot, Isadora laughing and Farkle truly free as they round out the performance. If there’s going to be any true spectacle this prom season, then Icarus and the fallen Techie Queen dancing together in what may as well be a fantasy sure takes the cake.

INT. JACK’S CAR - MOVING - NIGHT

Eric is not feeling the fantasy, a nervous wreck as they drive through the streets looking for signs of Isadora and Farkle. He relays that she has not responded to any of his texts, and Jack states that’s it. He pulls over, allowing him to give his focus to Eric as he parks on the side of the road.

Jack takes Eric’s phone, out of his grasp.

Jack: Enough. You’re driving yourself crazy.

Eric: Yeah, you’re one to talk. [ trying to snatch it back ] Mister obsessive civil suit --

Jack: Oh, I’m not saying I’m innocent. But you have got to give yourself a break. It was their choice to sneak out and go wild, not yours. You can only do so much. If they choose to be idiotic, that’s on them. Regardless of how much we care.

Eric knows that Jack is speaking from experience. He sighs, slouching back in the passenger seat. Jack tries to comfort him, reminding him that Isadora and Farkle are two of the smartest students at AAA. They’re not going to get into trouble. Besides, if they are, then at least they have their best troublemaker on the case.

Jack: He’s like a heat-seeking missile. If there’s mischief afoot, trust me, I believe he’ll find it.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Maybe so, Jack. Maybe so. Somehow, Lucas manages to catch up to Isadora and Farkle as they’re walking along the streets, slowing down in Grace’s car and coming up next to them. He honks, startling them both.

Lucas: Hey! Lunatics!

Isadora: Lucas? What the hell are you doing here?

Lucas: I could ask you the same question.

Farkle: Isn’t your license suspended?

Lucas holds up a finger to silence Farkle, not acknowledging his question. He keeps his focus on Isadora, who is similarly confused.

Isadora: Isn’t your license suspended?

Lucas: You tell me. You tell me what the hell you’re doing walking around like freaks and sending Eric so postal Jack had to send me out here risking future legal penalty to come find you.

Farkle: Hey, I mean, we snuck out of prom. [ holding his arms out ] Don’t I get a little credit for that, Lucas James Friar?

Lucas glares at him, unimpressed.

Lucas, sharply: Don’t talk to me like you know me.

Farkle raises his hands in surrender, turning away. Lucas turns his focus back to Isadora.

Lucas: Tell Eric where the hell you are and that you’re not dead. At least pay him that decency.

Isadora: Alright! Alright, I will. Sorry you got dragged into it.

Lucas: You’re so lucky I have no life.

Lucky, indeed… Lucas drives off, leaving the two of them alone again. Isadora shifts awkwardly, Farkle hesitating before giving her an unbothered smirk. Woo, reckless freedom!

INT. JACK’S CAR - NIGHT

Jack gets the text from Isadora on Eric’s phone. He smiles and then passes it back to him, telling him that now he can breathe again.

And so he can. Eric lets out a huge sigh of relief, falling back against the seat and rubbing his face. These kids, are they ever gonna let them live? Once he’s pulled himself off the ledge, Eric drops his hands and asks what they’re supposed to do now.

Now that they’re already out? Well… Jack shrugs.

Jack: You like bowling?

INT. PROM VENUE - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Magic” as performed by Gabrielle Aplin || Performed by Yindra Amino

Things slow down back at the prom, allowing the students to shift into a slow dance. Before Riley and Charlie can make any decisions, Zay swoops over to them to cut in. For a second it seems as though he might ask Charlie, in front of everyone… but he simply requests a dance with his favorite girl at AAA. Charlie relents without an argument, allowing him to steal Riley.

Riley: Sweet of you to say all that. And…

Zay: And I will give anything not to slow dance with Maya, yes.

Charlie shifts his sights to Haley, offering a hand to her. With their former conversation having cleared the air, the two of them are able to simply enjoy a dance together rather than twisting themselves up over what it might mean.

Yindra’s vocals truly help set the mood. The types of slow dancers are all across the spectrum. The soft familiarity of Dylan and Asher, whispering in each other’s ears and smiling and tilting their heads against one another; the timid beginnings of Nigel and Jade, more distance between them but equally as happy to be sharing the dance. Then there’s Maya, not bothering to slow dance at all and continuing her campaign amongst the other single prom-goers.

While Zay and Riley dance, they softly discuss how the evening is going. Riley subtly makes it clear that she is no way moving in on Charlie -- they should both be well aware how unlikely that would be. Zay holds no such suspicions. After all…

Zay: Think you and I are both here while our hearts are somewhere else.

Couldn’t have said it better, Isaiah. Tellingly, while Haley and Charlie are having a swell enough time dancing together, he cannot seem to keep his gaze from drifting towards Zay over her shoulder…

Yindra brings the number home, delivering yet another dazzling performance.

INT. BOWLING ALLEY - NIGHT

Pow! A bowling ball knocks over a volley of pins, shattering the dreamy melancholy of prom.

Jack and Eric have already played one game, crashed in one of the tables by the lanes and sharing some cheap bowling alley snacks. They’re also drinking and… okay, they might be a tad tipsy. They’re laughing as they chat about the evening, more relaxed than we’ve ever seen them. They could almost be teenagers themselves, just wasting away prom night at a bowling alley and blowing off expectations.

Eric complains about Isadora and Farkle’s actions, still not over the sleight. Like he gets it, they’re teenagers, but really? Jack chuckles, shrugging and claiming it’s just that kind of night. He can remember how he used to be -- Lucas really isn’t that far off from how he was at that age, although the kid is way more ballsy than he was.

Besides… there’s something about prom night, man. It makes people do crazy things.

Jack: I was never super into it, but… ha. I remember senior year, me and the guy I was going with --

Eric nearly chokes on his drink. Jack raises his eyebrows, handing him a napkin in concern.

Jack: You okay?

Eric: Yeah. Yeah, I just -- [ clearing his throat ] Guy? You went with a guy?

Jack: Oh, yeah. Administrators weren’t thrilled about it at the time though. [ off his stunned expression ] Oh, come on. You know I’m bisexual. We’ve totally discussed this.

Eric: Um. No. No we have not.

Jack: We definitely have.

Eric: Jack, I would not have forgotten that. Believe me.

Jack shrugs, smiling to himself and taking another drink. Eric just stares at him, trying to reconcile this new understanding he has of his friend and co-worker in his head. He starts to say something, then thinks better of it. Lost for words.

The music on the sound system of the bowling alley saves him from having to speak. As soon as the song starts playing, both of them react with joyful acknowledgement.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Bye Bye Bye” as performed by *NSYNC || Performed by Jack Hunter & Eric Matthews

At first the two of them just reminiscence, talking about how classic this song is. Speaking of hits of their youth, this was it in the college days. But as they casually start singing along in their seats, just like their students (and maybe thanks to the alcohol), the groove overtakes them.

Eric jumps to his feet first, crouching on his seat and launching into the second verse. Jack cracks up and claps, encouraging the dramatic performance. Eric manages to pull him into it as well, the two of them delivering the rendition with the same gusto as their overdramatic students.

INT. BYE BYE BYE DREAMSCAPE - NIGHT

In their folly, it would only be fair to give them the same imaginative scape as their students. Part of the performance is a fantasy tribute to the “Bye Bye Bye” music video, Jack and Eric dressed as if they’re back in the early 2000s and dancing around a tilting room.

INT. BOWLING ALLEY - NIGHT

We cut back and forth between that and them wreaking mild havoc in the bowling alley, and gosh dang is it a fun performance.

That’s one way to cut loose for a night. Let’s go principal and counselor!

EXT. HOTEL - NIGHT

Farkle walks Isadora to the front stoop of the fancy hotel Valerie is staying at, although she tells him that he didn’t have to. He claims as her date it was his duty -- even if their arrangement wasn’t exactly by choice.

Isadora: Well, impressively, I did actually have fun.

Farkle: Oh?

Isadora: Yes. I don’t expect the enchantment to last past midnight, but it was fun while it lasted. [ a beat ] I suppose I’m glad that I had to babysit tonight.

Farkle rolls his eyes. Isadora looks at him for a long moment, and then stands on her tip-toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He blinks, obviously not expecting it. After a moment he kind of smiles, caught between a confused frown and a pleasantly surprised smile. He looks at her, narrowing his eyes.

She gives him no explanation. She just tilts her head in a nod and marches through the revolving door, leaving him on the sidewalk. He glances up at the building, smile widening as he spins on his heel and saunters down the street.

INT. PROM VENUE - NIGHT

Clarissa and Haley are just wrapping up a performance, dismounting the stage as Harper heads up to the microphone. She warms up the crowd by asking how everyone is enjoying prom, which is met with resounding cheers. The time has come, she announces, for the crowning of their junior and senior prom court!

Amidst the cheers, Charlie shifts his focus to Riley next to him. She’s zoned out, glancing over her shoulder and not paying any attention. Looking for someone who isn’t going to be there, no matter how many times she looks.

After a moment, he elbows her lightly.

Charlie: You should go.

Riley: What? What do you mean?

Charlie: I appreciate what you did for me tonight. But we both know… you don’t want to be here. Not really. [ nodding towards the door ] So you should go. Don’t waste the rest of your night on me.

Riley examines him, thoughtful. Then she smiles, taking his arm and leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. She squeezes his arm.

Riley: Never a waste.

Then she’s gone, weaving her way through the crowd and on a mission. Charlie watches her go, and when he turns back to the crowd and the excitement of the senior prom court being announced he suddenly feels very detached. Like he’s a fish out of water, as if he shouldn’t even be there at all.

It’s claustrophobic. Charlie starts to push his way through the crowd as well, searching for an exit. Needing to get out of there.

From where he’s waiting with Maya, Zay notices Charlie’s frantic escape. He frowns, hesitating for only a moment before darting out after him. Only Maya notices him go, looking after him in confusion.

Maya, in a whisper: Zay. Zay!

He’s already gone. And her attention is stolen anyway, as Harper gets a drum roll going for the announcement of junior prom queen and king. It goes, unsurprisingly… to Maya and Zay!

Only Zay is nowhere to be found. Lucky for him, Maya is an expert showman and covers as if it’s nothing. She hops up onto stage and happily accepts, claiming her king had to dip out for a moment and she’ll be accepting both on his behalf.

Once she’s found a way to balance both crowns on her little blonde head, she takes to the microphone and gives a small speech about what an honor it is to be selected. And in return, tonight, she’ll give them a prom slow dance really worth remembering. As the track cues up --

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “At Last” as performed by Beyoncé || Performed by Maya Hart

As obnoxious as she is, there is no doubt about the fact that Maya Hart can sing. Her vocals are damn good on the romantic classic, truly creating a perfect final slow dance for the evening. And she’s milking every second of it, glamorous as ever in her elegant gown and dual crown glory.

EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT

Charlie has made his way to a mostly vacant section of the parking lot, inhaling as much fresh air as he can. He holds his breath, then lets it out, fighting off whatever strange panic was prickling at him.

It doesn’t truly fade until Zay joins him, approaching casually and claiming that he’s missing Maya’s big performance. Isn’t that what he came all the way out to prom for anyway? Charlie can’t help but laugh, even though the vibe between them is still uncertain.

Charlie: Oh, naturally. Everything’s about Maya Hart, after all.

Zay: Absolutely everything, yeah.

Charlie: [ just looking at him ] … shouldn’t you be in there too, then? Far as I recall, you were her running mate.

Zay, with a shrug: I didn’t really care much about it.

Zay is stepping closer with every word that passes between them.

Charlie: … no?

Zay: Nah. I mean, can’t blame Maya though. She knows how to pick a winning candidate.

Charlie: Well, no arguments here. Sure you don’t want to get your crown, though? Think that would be a nice prize regardless.

They’re standing right in front of each other. Zay swallows, meeting his eyes.

Zay: I can think of something better.

Charlie lets that sink in, not sure how to respond. Knowing that they’re the way they are for a reason… but then there he is, right there in front of him…

Zay doesn’t ask for much. He gently takes Charlie’s hands, pulling him towards him and into a slow dance. There in the parking lot, alone, where nobody else is going to bother them.

Charlie is stiff at first, then slowly he relaxes into it. The familiarity, the ease, the way they seem to just naturally fit together... especially when it comes to dancing.

Still, something in his expression is conflicted. It’s obvious he loves it -- being so close to Zay, sharing anything with him regardless of what their status is -- but then that’s the problem, isn’t it? As long as Charlie is around him, he’s never going to be able to let it go. They’re going to keep drifting back to each other like this, and Zay is never going to be able to move forward.

Charlie realizes all of that… and yet.

For now, he chooses to live in the moment. He tilts his head against Zay’s shoulder and chooses to soak it up for all it’s worth, the dance and the closeness and the way he continues to choose him, even when he pushes him away.

Everything else, he can deal with another day.

INT. VALERIE’S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora has changed back into more comfortable clothes, Valerie hanging her dress up so that it stays nice and unruffled. After all the hard work Stella McCartney put into it, she would hate for it to only survive one use!

Then Valerie settles on the bed with Isadora, telling her the good news. The paperwork went through -- they’re on their way. She just has some things she needs to go wrap up last minute in Los Angeles, and then they’re going to do it. They’re going to be a proper mother and daughter, she’ll move to the city, and everything is going to change. For the better, she’s sure.

Isadora is stunned just to hear it said -- she can’t begin to wrap her head around it in reality. But she manages action, leaning forward to initiate a hug with Valerie.

She hugs her back, tight, so excited about the next steps they’ll be taking together.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Well, for only a night’s work, Lucas has made substantial progress on organizing his hell bedroom. You can actually see the floor now in most places, which is a step up. Maybe one solution to not having horrible mental health is to not feel like you’re living in an abandoned storage closet. Music is playing from his phone, shuffling the playlist Riley made him last year.

He finishes clearing the floor by the actual closet door, finding Riley’s gala shawl. He holds it in his hands, delicately, trying to decide what to do with it. It’s survived this long, in spite of all the times he’s thought about destroying it -- to get rid of it now would almost be a disservice.

He’s distracted from the decision for now, his phone buzzing. He settles onto his bed, putting the shawl to the side towards his pillow and opening the message.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Ebony Eyes” as performed by Jamie Scott || Instrumental

It’s from Dylan, a group picture of the techie crew in the midst of the glitz of prom. The caption underneath it is simple and to the point -- “We miss you!!!!!!!”

Lucas can’t help but smile, but after a moment it shifts to something more muted. The disappointment is clear on his face now, fully realizing how much he might be missing out on. How much he’s missed out on for the entire year, while he was busy fighting to survive his own personal hurricane. And there’s no way to get that back -- there’s no way to know if it’ll ever stop hurricaning, given how up in the air everything feels.

He’s distracted once again from his own internal musing, this time by creaking from outside his window. At first he glances towards his door, worried it might be someone coming home, but an additional creaking confirms it’s coming from outside. It’s coming from the fire escape.

Cautiously, Lucas gets to his feet, edging towards his window. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Riley appears from the ladder below, scrappily climbing her way up to his level.

EXT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Lucas scrambles out the window to meet her, eyes wide in disbelief. She smiles at him as he emerges and she manages to pull herself fully onto the fire escape. There’s barely room for them both to stand, Lucas taking her arm and pulling her as far from the window -- and his apartment -- as possible.

Lucas: What the hell are you doing here?

Riley blinks at him, trying to catch up with her own choice of actions. She’s changed out of her fancy gown, hair and makeup still done up but having opted for a pair of high-waisted jeans and a thrifted tee. Better attire for building scaling, at least.

She explains that she couldn’t stop thinking about him and how he was missing out, so she decided to bring some of the fun to him. She shrugs off her backpack, unzipping it and showing off some of the snacks and movies and junk she threw in there along with her laptop. She didn’t have a lot of specific ideas, or anything, she just thought… who knows. She just knew she wanted to be here.

Lucas is in shock. He can’t believe any person would ditch prom without some other grand plan, and definitely not for him.

Lucas: That’s… that’s nice, but you shouldn’t have to do this. You should be at prom, having fun. Least of all worrying about me.

Riley, shaking her head: Wasn’t the same without you.

Oh. Well then. Riley glances towards his room, recognizing the music playing and smiling to herself. She comments that at least he has good tunes to get him through the night, and the slower, rustic song playing now is better than about half of the songs they played at the dance.

In fact… she did say she was going to bring the evening to him…

Dropping her backpack by the window, Riley cautiously takes Lucas’s hands. When he doesn’t complain, she gently guides him into a dance of their own -- a promenade on six square feet of metal with a shitty outdated iPhone speaker acting as the DJ.

Even still, it might be the most authentically romantic duet of the night. The music quality shifts and improves to be more encompassing as they settle into the dance, once again supplemented by that fantastical quality of the evening. Secluded enough for Lucas to ease into it, more intimate than a room full of their peers would allow.

After a minute or so, Riley adjusts their posture and presses their foreheads together. For how soft the moment is, the energy between them may as well be electric. They’re inches apart, one or two breaths and a bold choice away from another kiss. And maybe they could…

But not tonight. Not yet.

Riley shifts and rests her head against his shoulder, Lucas closing his eyes and tilting his head against hers.

For now, what they have in this moment together is enough.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Crazy how in the aftermath of such a whimsical weekend, life is expected to proceed as normal. Jack is in good spirits as he jogs his way into the school building later than usual, pushing through the doors at the same time as Lucas. Lucas comments on his late showing.

Jack: You know, for all the times you’ve shown up to class tardy with no good excuse, I think you can zip it on this one.

Touché. Jack does remember to thank Lucas for his help with Farkle and Isadora though, expressing that it was a big help. He asks how he spent the rest of his evening -- aside from the crystal meth.

Lucas, nonchalantly: Nothing much. And you?

Jack: Got kicked out of a bowling alley.

Lucas: … fun. Respect.

Jack grins, nodding him on his way. He makes his way back into the office…

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Where the real world is waiting for him. Jack is surprised by the gift-wrapped item on his desk -- until reality slams into him like a freight train. He drops his briefcase and jogs towards it, lifting the ribbon-bound local newspaper into his hands.

There it is. The Bradford case, front page Monday morning news. Likely paid a fortune to make it front page news, if he knows his adversaries.

It’s officially gone public. The fantasy is over. Another day has arrived, and now it’s time to deal with all of the challenges ahead.

Now, it’s time to take action. For better or for worse.

END OF EPISODE.

[unholyhelbiglinked]

Camp Beaverbrook | 011

CHECK OUT THE STORY FROM THE START HERE

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter has a lot of blood in it, but also, so do the rest of them. 

Hey Mom,

Emily here. Who else would it be, though? I’m sure you’re expecting a phone call at some point but I don’t think I can bring myself to go in there. Not when Aubrey thought… It doesn’t matter. I got to meet Jane’s parents. They’re nice people. Normal people. Miss Eide has a job as a bank teller and I think Mr. Eide sells water heaters. They’re both taking breaks from that, though. Understandably. Maybe I’ll be seeing you a lot sooner than summers end.

Emily

The scent of blood wasn’t something Emily Junk had ever paid much mind to. When she was seven years old, she was dared by Nellie Zeeman to jump off the swings when the chains had creaked to their longest point, and she could practically touch the sky.

Emily had jumped off without a second conviction and she remembered the exact moment she landed in the mulch. She could technically taste the dirt that filled her mouth, the blood that mixed into an insane cocktail against her tongue. She had scraped her knee and red dripped down her bare leg. Nellie Zeeman ran the opposite direction before Emily’s lower lip quivered and she wailed. She could smell blood then.

She could smell blood now too.

It clawed at her throat like it had been slit with edging poison. It made her swallow roughly and it darkened her eyes to a different degree; Aubrey Posen was sat on the edge of a springy bed with a limp olive-green blanket that wasn’t tucked in all the way. Her hair was damp, and it clung to her shoulders.

The yellow shirt she wore was wet in different variants: where her locks fell, where her skin hadn’t dried, where a thick sanguine fluid wicked its way into the fabric of the tank top that had been woven in a factory somewhere in Ohio. Her hand was coated in rust and she shifted uncomfortably at the sound of the door opening. Emily panted, stunned.

She felt naïve at the thought that this was over, that it had stopped at one death. Maybe Jane had gotten lost in the woods and nature overtook every inch of the poor girl’s body until she had sunk into the soil herself. Emily hadn’t read the ME report. She hadn’t seen the body. She was foolish. Foolish and in overdrive.

“Oh my god, Aubrey.” Her words pushed through the thorns in her throat.

Emily had dropped down to her knees easily, not regarding the pain that shot through them as she carefully took Aubrey’s fingers. It was familiar, and Aubrey’s touch was chilled and clammy.

“No,” The blonde whispered stopping Emily by applying pressure to her stance, she pulled her onto the bed, their knees touching.“Don’t.”

Emily nodded and let Aubrey breathe in softly. The air in the cabin was musty. There were posters on the wall, boy bands that Emily had admittedly plugged into her cassette player in an attempt to enjoy the static-filled sound. Her mother refused to give her a disc man, but now that the little plastic boxes were dying out, she had no reason not to invest in one. This had to be Chloe’s cabin.

Chloe who had pulled her from her thoughts and her sleep when she rushed in to grab clothes for Aubrey in the first place. She didn’t’ bat an eye at her, instead, telling her where to find Aubrey. She was going to run towards Gail, sweet Gail, who had yet to pull the camp from function.  

“Chloe was, Chloe is, trying her best,” Aubrey spoke, her eyes were trained on the evenly placed laundry basket that was overflowing with gold and green. “Poor thing can’t stand the sight of blood though. I think I need to get someone to clean up the shower. It’s awfully messy in there and-“

Emily shifted her touch to the woman’s wrist. She could feel the rapid heartbeat against the inside of her index finger. It pounded like a drum. “Aubrey, stop.”

The blonde drew in a heaving breath but kept her mouth shut. She was clearly unbothered, or numb, to the amount of blood that was dripping against her arm. It had slowed, even now. But it was worrisome. Her pear colored eyes were widened, and her heartbeat continued to sound like a snare.

“I don’t know what happened,” She finally whispered. “I was showering. The water was getting cold because I guess I stood there too long. I always stand there too long.”

Emily nodded gently, eyes trying to search the girl’s face. A purple bruise was forming around the laceration and Emily tried her hardest not to stare.

“They came at me, Em. I- I could feel the wood splinter under the tip of that knife. It burned.” Her throat audibly tightened. It wasn’t the beginning of a cry, because this was more than that. This was a fear that shook Aubrey Posen’s body harder than anything ever had before. “It just burns.”        

Aubrey melted into Emily’s side. The younger girl was pretty sure she would vanish into the floor if she had the chance. Her nose was cold against the inside of her neck and scent of blood wasn’t so noticeable anymore. The way Aubrey was crying was. The way her whole body shuttered, and fingers dug into the fabric of Emily’s shirt. She was like a pine tree, unwavering in the wind, finally pulling its roots from the deeply packed fine soil.  

Her chocolate gaze flipped up to the door as it creaked open. Stacie Conrad was breathing heavily, a little less tactful about keeping her disdain towards the wound to herself. “Chloe told me you needed this I- Should I grab someone who can fix you up?”  

Aubrey straightened up and moved the length of her arm across the base of her nose, chin lifting slightly as she gave an easy and collected stare.

The archer looked a little sickly compared to the blue of the sky. Maybe Stacie didn’t like blood. If Emily hadn’t been exposed to the dangers of it when she was young, she supposed she would look a bit green too.

“No, it’s alright.” Emily objected. “I can do it.”

She took the first aid kit from Stacie, who hung by the door for a few moments before ducking out into the ever-cooling air. Emily didn’t waste time digging through the plastic case. She found alcohol wipes, padding, and some wrapped bandages. The rest were band-aids that could hold up against water. Anti-itch spray. Usual things that would be needed at a camp this size. Aubrey followed her with reddened eyes, she sniffed softly.

Emily was careful as she tore away the wrapping of the wipe. The toxic scent of antiseptic-coated her lungs as she kneeled on the bed next to Aubrey, one foot hanging off the side. “This might sting, just a little.”

Aubrey hissed as the cool wipe met the mostly open wound.

“You know, I used to volunteer at an animal shelter during the winter. The doctor there, he had a lot of free time, so he started to teach me a few things. You don’t need stitches so that’s good, it didn’t cut deep enough.”

“Okay,”

“Right,” Emily Junk didn’t do well with awkward silence, but she could respect Aubrey Posen’s need to be quiet. Her own mind was still buzzing with trauma. Jane Eide was dead and the girl she may have possibly felt a strong fondness for had been attacked in the showers. She struggled to silence her thoughts, and instead laid a pad of gauze down before wrapping the majority of Aubrey’s arm. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you, Emily.”

Aubrey stood herself, rolling her shoulders back as much as she could, her eyes darkening. Emily had seen it before; that rage hungry look that translated from pain. It made her freeze, feeling that edge of ice bite at her skin once more. She settled for playing with the fuzz at the end of Aubrey’s jacket, the fabric stretching past her wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s fine,” Her voice was tender, “I just need to take care of a few things. Stay here if you want.”

Emily opened her mouth to object but was met by the screen door opening and closing. She stared at the way the lined material looked so vivid against the daylight as she blinked a few times before shoving off the bed herself and walking onto the creaking porch. Everything looked the same.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting: A lake filled with blood, a sky harbored with rolling clouds ready to rain down acid. At least a police car to take a statement about a possible killer still on the campgrounds. Instead, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Aubrey looked distraught compared to her usual demeanor.

Emily found herself following at will, her sneakers crunching against the grass as she stopped right at the stony shore. She could smell the musk of the lake that always wore off the second her feet touched the mucky bottom in familiarity. This time she hung away, swallowing roughly as Aubrey’s boots met the far end of the dock.

Beca had a whistle in her mouth, letting the metal drop from her lips before she turned slightly on her heel. Her eyes were trained on the campers in the water, a few of them splashing around while others swam laps close to the ropes. She itched at the edge of her neck where her sweatshirt stood.

“Aubrey?” she turned completely, “Jesus dude, what happened?”

The taller woman shoved her hand down, knocking the clipboard from Beca’s grasp. The loud clang caught the attention of few, Beca glancing down before letting out a breath, her hardened eyes glowering at Aubrey. “What the hell, Posen?”

There was an immediate petal of blood the second Aubrey’s fist connected with the right side of Beca’s face. The sound was unmistakable, knuckles against bone and a string of profanities as Beca stumbled back, her shoe skidding against the edge of the dock before she caught herself- before Aubrey caught her and pulled her forward by the neck of her sweatshirt.

Emily’s throat tightened as the fond scent of rust hit her nose. She reached forward and grasped the base of Aubrey’s tank top, quickly searching for a place that wouldn’t’ wound the girl further, a dark red soaking through the pad of cotton on her shoulder.

“You’re fucking dead, Mitchell!”

“Get off of me!”

Beca struggled to push the girl’s hands away as Emily pulled back even harder to no avail. She moved her hands against the woman’s side, ducking under her arm completely to create a barrier between the head counselor and the water sports director. Her fist was raised, but her eyes quickly lightened, features softening as her lips parted and her hand dropped.

“Stop it! Both of you!” Emily shoved Aubrey back slightly “Go cool off.”

“I’m gonna-“Aubrey took a shaky breath, a step back, even “Yeah.”

She shook her head, eyes sharp as she blinked towards Beca. Aubrey drew in a breath and walked down the rest of the dock. Emily’s clouded eyes followed her frame as she departed, feet heavy and fingers clutching at the dull ache visible on her shoulder.

“What the fuck was that about?” Beca asked,  grabbing her clipboard from the wooden dock. Emily hadn’t noticed how unstable it felt. A deep shade of brick was smeared across her arm where she had struggled to steel the laceration on her cheek. An ugly shade of blue and purple was already blistering against pale skin.

“Sorry, she uh-“Emily fretted “You’re okay?”

Beca pressed her fingers close to the blood, pulling back and rubbing it between her thumb and index finger before glowering up at her. “Yeah, Em. I’m fine.”      

[sarahbethimagines]

Chapter Eleven: See The Light

Chapter Log!

After some time, Michelle and I managed to let our sobs subside and detangled ourselves from the other's arms. But Michelle was quick to slap her hands to my cheeks, her eyes running over what was left to see of my now squished face. Investigating it closely. So close, I could have sworn to you she'd been counting every pore and freckle on the skin. "Well look at you," She smiled widely, slowly lightening her grip and letting my face start to reshape, "I haven't seen you in a month of Sundays!" I smiled back at her, laughing softly as I searched all the new records in my brain to remember I in fact hadn't seen her since winter break. "I'd been wondering how long I'd have to wait for you to find your way back here." Her hands finally dropped and she took a step back, her smile never budging an inch. "Well here I am!"

"There you are..." She breathed, suddenly pulling me into yet another tight hug. Huffing a hefty sigh as she did and burrowed her small head into my shoulder. "Lord only knows how happy I am that you're back." Smiling still, I returned her hug knowing exactly what she'd meant by that. And we stood there like that for a moment in a tearless embrace. Michelle thanking God I'd somehow remembered her. And me just basking in the same thing. Feeling more than grateful that somehow, someway I now had someone I truly knew to talk about everything to. Someone I remembered to help me navigate all that I didn't just a little bit better. That hug didn't last nearly as long as the last, and soon she was pulling us apart and taking a hold of my hand. "C'mon, I have something I've been waiting to give you!" She excitedly explained. Damn nearly pulling my arm clean out of its socket as she all but ran to the back of the shop. I'd always thought I was short in comparison to my father and Alex, and well everyone else in my other memories. But even at my short stature, I still had her beat by an inch or so. But that sure as Hell didn’t stop her from pumping those stumpy legs. Like she was Usain Bolt and the door she swiftly pulled us up to was the finish line in the Olympics'100-meter relay. The sign on the door read 'Authorized Personnel ONLY', and I guess that Michelle fell under that category now as she pushed it open with ease and uncovered the strangest yet most perfect little break room I'd ever seen. Once she'd dropped her death grip on my now probably broken hand, I followed in after her slowly and took in the room in its entirety. There was a small, paint smeared and wood chipped table off to the side, a single chair pulled up to it. It was pretty much empty spare a few napkins, a large, gaudy, borderline out of date boom box, and a small microwave. Diagonal from it in the corner were two oversized bean bag chairs that looked like they'd been used as punching bags for Rocky at some point or another. But by far the most impressive part of that oversized storage closet were its walls. Every inch covered from floor to ceiling and wall to wall in a wide range of posters, photographs, and record casings. There were band posters, album art, and torn off covers of Rolling Stone magazines. There were photos of Micah and Michelle at varying ages plastered everywhere. Photos of bands that had rolled through town, or those surrounding. Even photos of the Michelle and I, and the guys. Some were normal, and some were of Jack, Alex, Zack, and a third boy I assumed to be Rian playing all together. A full-blown band. I wandered around the room with wide eyes all while Michelle fumbled around in search for something. Taking the moment to soak it all in, even spotting a small polaroid photo of me. I was smiling widely, clearly laughing whilst holding a crumpled piece of paper that read 'EmpLoyEE of the mONth' in purple crayon. And I laughed softly, remembering Michelle doing that on the one-month anniversary of me working at that very store with her our Junior year in high school. "There you are, you little fucker." Michelle groveled under her breath making me laugh. I turned around to see her just barely miss smashing her head on the table's edge as she rose to her feet, tiny blue plastic bag in hand. "Only took a million and a half years to find it!" I furrowed my brow, propped myself up against a wall and watched. Giggling quietly at my friend as she tore the bag away its confines and was quick to rip the plastic film off a brand-new CD. "What are you doing?" I finally asked in an overly amused voice as she haphazardly tossed the scraps over her shoulder and popped the freed disc into the boombox. "Just being the coolest friend ever." She mocked me, turning around with a roll of her eyes and tossing the now empty CD case through the air. "Consider it a belated birthday gift, or very belated depending on which birthday you celebrated this year." I let out a bellowing laugh once I'd managed to catch it, only fumbling it in my fingers for a second. A questioning, yet still amused look in my eyes as I turned the disk over and tore my eyes from Michelle's to look down. My baby blues instantly tripled in size at the sight of what I was now holding in my hands. The black faded halo, the burnt orange bricks, the black, white and yellow spray-painted art. All physical attributes used to describe Green Day's, 21st Century Breakdown. My eyes were the size of moons when I looked back to her. My jaw slack, but my smile wide. "I've been waiting for this since they announced recording it in October!" I practically squealed. And she matched my excitement perfectly. "How do you have this?" I questioned, running the few feet over to her, "I don't even remember this being released!" I could see a flash of something in her eyes when I'd said that. But she quickly covered it up with a casual smirk and shrug. "We got right on the order and stalked up the second it came out, I've been holding onto this copy for about a week now for you." "Oh my God, thank you!" I yelled, wrapping my arms around her neck in the tightest hug I could muster. "Alright, alright I know," She coughed, pushing me off, or at least attempting to. "I'm the greatest best friend in all of existence but get off me so I can play it!" "Say less!" I huffed, pulling myself off her in an instant and allowing her to turn around and press play. As the first track began to spin, I returned to my place by the wall, leaning into it and scanning the back of the CD case. Taking in each and every one of the eighteen song titles. And Michelle pressed herself up onto the break table, swinging her legs ever so slightly as she watched me. For a while we just sat in silence listening to the music and taking it in. But it was hard for me to ignore the way her eyes were burning two little holes in my skull once I'd finished listing the tracks in my head. I knew she must have had a million and one questions, there was something about the way she'd been looking at me before. So shocked, and yet so happy. She must have been just as surprised as I'd been at the fact that I so quickly remembered who she was. And I'm certain she had a laundry list of things she wanted to ask me. About the incident, about what I'd remembered so far, probably even what I'd specifically remembered about her. But if I'm to be honest, it was nice for once to not have to think so hard about what had been going on in my life the past two weeks. Just being able to sit in a room with someone I knew everything about was all I ever wanted and felt just as good as I'd hoped. That is sparing the small hints of guilt I'd begun to feel about not remembering anyone else. But I didn’t want to talk quite yet. So, I held off, never meeting her stare and instead began to wander aimlessly around the room in circles, taking in everything that was stuck to the walls. Feeling memories tug at my mind just out of reach when I saw certain things. Letting my hands graze the scattered collection of posters and photographs, I stopped at one that caught my eye. Leaning in to get a closer look with squinted eyes. The poor-quality photo captured an image of Alex that had something tugging just a bit harder than before in the back of my brain. Standing in a dark room with broken ceiling panels. He had a pink electric guitar slung over his shoulder and a white bandana wrapped around his visibly sweat slicked hair. Even through the grain I could easily see the expression on his face as he hung his jaw wide and was singing into a microphone, thick vein bulging down the length of his neck clear as day. They were probably playing some form of a show. Zack could be seen ever so slightly behind him, the only thing keeping the shorter boy from fading into the darkness of the photograph was the bright red t-shirt stuck to his chest. "How much do you remember of him?" Michelle suddenly asked from behind me when she noticed me staring. Careful tone to her words. "Not as much as I'd like to." I admitted, dropping my hand and head in synchronization before turning around to see her staring up at me. A somber look to her pressed smile. "He's been keeping us all in the loop, you know." She told me, still swinging her legs. Eyes never leaving me as I made my way over and flopped down into one of the worn bean bag chairs. "Ever since you'd shown up at his house." "All good things, I hope?" I inquired. She nodded and I did too, biting down gently on my lip. "He said you're doing a lot better the past few days, that you remember more than you think." "I doubt that!" I scoffed, shaking my head and letting my eyes fall to my swaying knees. "Don't doubt Alex." She practically warned me, though with a playful twang. "He's known you better than you've known yourself since ninth grade. It's just a much easier competition for him in the time being." "Well, that's one wat to put it." I laughed half-heartedly. But only for a moment before a frown formed between my cheeks. "It kills me you know, not remembering any of them. Not remembering my dad, or my best friends." "Well you seem to remember me just fine!" She pointed out. Clearly searching under rocks for a silver lining to show me. Only finding rattle snakes hidden away. "Yeah, well you're actually the only person I really remember." I bitterly admitted. "And even that is a new discovery." "Oh, boo who!" She whined, and my attention instantly snapped up in time to see her rolling her big doll eyes at me. "Dee, do me a solid and tell the negative committee that meets in your brain to sit down and shut the Hell up!" "Excuse me?" I practically choked on my shocked excuse for a laugh. "You heard me." She said, narrowing her eyes. "This whole negative nelly, woe is me crap isn't you! You were bright and bubbly ten minutes ago until I asked about your progress. Look on the bright side!" I couldn’t even begin to help the way my eyes rolled at that. "Where is the bright side to forgetting your entire life." "How about getting a chance to remember it again." She said. And I looked to her again at the sound of her hardened words, only to see a cold glare looking right back at me. Things seeming to make a fast and drastic turn in a whole new direction. "Look Dee, something terrible happened to you. Probably the worst thing that can happen to a person. But in the bigger picture of things you got lucky!" "How?" I genuinely asked now, not as sarcastic as before. More curious per say as to where she was going with all this. She sighed and shook her head. "You were in a car full of people that played chicken with a tree and lost miserably. Not a single one of you walked away with just bumps and bruises. So, all things considered, if I were you, I'd start to just be grateful you walked away at all instead of focusing on smaller things." "I am grateful!" I quickly defended. "I know you are deep down..." She said, "But you're letting your memory cloud that. You're so focused on the fact that you can't remember that you're forgetting to count the biggest blessing of being able to remember anything at all." I bit my lip and looked away from her for a moment. My hand subconsciously running its way up to the back of my head where a line of small scabbed staples sat hidden beneath my hair. One of the last remaining bits of physical evidence. All that time at home I’d been trying my hardest to remember my life and think as little as possible about how I’d lost the ability to do so. I didn’t remember the crash. All I knew about it was what I'd seen on the news before the nurses would turn it off. And the few conclusions I'd drawn from the doctors questioning me. The biggest thing I had been blocking from my thoughts, now with Michelle's words in my head seemed like the biggest thing I should have been focusing on all along. That not everyone survived that night. And I was one of the four lucky ones who did. "Your memory will come back to you." Michelle whispered, pulling me from my thoughts. "And we are all going to be here until you do, helping where we can." I looked up to see her slowly sliding off the table she'd been sat on our whole exchange. Letting me nod before she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up into another tight hug. "You know I would never be hard on you unless you really needed a kick in the pants." She muttered as I wrapped my arms around her and took a deep breath. "But Dee, you just have to remember, you are here, you are alive, and you are slowly remembering things." "Thank you." I whispered, holding her closer. "I love you Tweedle Dee, you stupid stubborn bitch." She laughed, "Just, stop being so hard on yourself." "I love you too JuJuBee." I whispered back to her, closing my eyes to conceal the tears that were slowly beginning to form. "I'll try my hardest to remember that."

[yixhunpai]

Zhang Yixing • Forever

Zhang Yixing X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.5K

Synopsis: “You both were just waiting for the right. You were just wondering when that was when he knew the whole time.”

Author’s Note: (Y/f, m, l/n)- Your first, middle, and last name. Also this is my first fan fiction please be nice. Enjoy!

________________________________________________________

"Hello darling."

That was all you needed to hear to turn your day around. The only problem was, you couldn't hear them in person. You've had to hear Yixing say all these sweet things to you over the phone. You missed him so much when he was away like this on tour or jus for his business trips. All your friends kept saying that they weren't really about business, but you knew and that's all that mattered.

"When are you coming back?" You already knew the answer, but had to hear him say it. "I'll be home in 2 months, my sweet. I know it seems like it's so far away, but you have to admit that these past 5 have flown by very fast." He talked with such a sweet voice when speaking about your time apart. You had to admit it has flown by quickly, but not quick enough. You rarely got to talk to him when he was away because you both agreed to keep your relationship quiet until the time was right. Lately it seemed lie there was never a right time, bit you didn't care you knew it would be the right time soon, hopefully. "Yes they have. I just miss your voice and your smile. Not to mention your laugh is one of the best things I've ever heard." You smiled as you heard him let out a light hearted chuckle on the other end. "How was your day?"

______________________________________________________________

After about 2 hours on the phone with Yixing the weight of your day and the worry of him was taken off your shoulders. After a few days of not being able to call he always made sure to make it worthwhile when he did have time to call. It always made your night/morning better whenever he called. With the realness of your situation setting in you move onto your drawings. Yixing insisted you pick up a hobby when he left and whenever he was around but was busy. He said that it would be good to have something to distract you when you started to feel alone or bored. As always he was right. Part of you hated it when he was right, but also showed you how much he cared about your well being when he wasn't able to be around. It just made you fall even more in love with him. As you were drawing you subconsciously started drawing the small music store where you first met him.

______________________________________________________________

You were looking for the latest EXO album because let's be real here you were/are a huge fan of them all. When you found it and the other albums and some posters you made your way to the front of the store unfortunately for you but lucky for him you're a huge klutz. Because you rarely ever pay attention to what's going on around you, you ran right into his chest and dropped everything you were carrying. Scrambling to pick the things up you saw a person grab your music and looked and saw someone you never thought you would see in person, let alone this close.

"Fan of EXO?" His voice was so entrancing that you didn't notice your mouth was slowly becoming a gaping hole and you closed it. "They're alright." A playful smirk crept onto your lips as you saw him smile that smile you only saw in video. "Alright, huh? Well if you ask me they're one of the two good band groups you picked out today." He said all of this while looking at your music choices and glancing back up to you. Little did you know he was extremely nervous to talk to you. You were the first thing he noticed when he walked in the store, as cheesy as it sounds he was mesmerized by you. You had beautiful long dark brunette hair, which is now its natural light brunette he loved more, and despite it being a chilly autumn it didn’t stop you from wearing your lavender dress with that old denim jacket you loved. He also couldn't help but notice that you really did have excellent taste in music with your eyes wandering over some amazing classics. 'Elves of the Night' by Wu Chin-Tai, 'Bluestone Alley' by Congfei Wei, 'Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy' by Tchaikovsky, and etc. No one he's seen in here has really ever looked at them other than himself of course. You on the other hand hadn't noticed him walk in too enveloped in your own head, but when you did you were in shock to see him to the least. "Well is that the only good thing you see?" "Definitely not." He looked at you and then held up an album, "This is a really good one." Looking at the album you could see the playful twinkle in his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "I'm (y/n)." You held your hand out to him. "I'm Yixing."

______________________________________________________________

"I can't believe you're waiting here for him. You both could get caught and everyone find about you two." Chanyeol was basically yelling at you over the phone because you knew better than to be up there with the guys. They knew you wanted to come along and a vote of 5 to 3 won out for you to come, but to keep your distance. You agreed to stay in the spot they picked out for you to stay, but still be able to see him and he'd be able to see you. "Yeollie I know you're worried about me and Xing but you don't need to. We're being careful and no one even knows I exist. He's been very careful to keep me a secret." You say this all calmly and confidently because you know it's all true. No one suspects anything about the relationship because he's been very smart about it. "But doesn't that bother you? That you have to stay a secret and that you guys can't really be a normal couple. I know that you both really love each other, but this isn't really healthy.." You hear multiple people tell him to stop being so negative and rustling over the phone. You start to think of all the things he was saying and realize he's right. You guys can't be a normal couple and that's what hurt a little. As soon as you were starting to think negative a loud voice you can only associate with one person got your attention. "(Y/n)! Snap out of it. People are getting off the plane." You snap your head in the direction of the gate and smile to yourself getting excited. "Also, don't listen to Chanyeol. He's just jealous." You heard Jongdae raise his voice at the last part letting Chanyeol hear and chuckled softly. "There he is!" You tore your phone away from your ear when Jongdae yelled for the guys to hear and looked at the gate to see Yixing. You had the biggest smile plastered to your face when you saw him and hung up the phone putting it on your pocket as you just watched everyone greet him from afar. You silently wished that you could be there too but this was the smart choice. As you were about to pull out your phone to message him he looked over in your direction and miraculously met your eyes. You saw his go into half moon shapes even from your distance you could feel his happiness and you could also feel your phone going off.

You have received a new text message!

XingXing <3: Go to the dorms my lamb. I'll see you soon.❤

With that text you left the airport and headed to the dorms. How you were going to get in was beyond you. But on the car ride over you thought of a plan and it was pretty clever, thinking back you remembered when you worked as a receptionist for a short period if time before you decided it'd be best if you quit. You were rarely able to get any work done from how much Yixing had pulled you away from your desk to spend time with him. It's honestly surprising that neither one of you got caught the entire 4 months you worked there. When you parked you pulled out your keycard that you used to get into the building and prayed it worked as you pulled your winter hat over your head and scarfed your face up until your eyes. You looked ridiculous, but had to keep yourself 'hidden' from the photographers that could get a picture of you. When you reached the doors you slid your key card through the slot and lighted green and unlocked the door. For a second you were frozen in shock it worked, but realizing your situation and went inside quickly. You walked through the lobby taking your scarf off and was greeted with nothing but happy smiles.

As you reached the dorm you were way past confused and just in utter shock about how you got inside and made it up to the dorms. You shook your head and went inside taking your shoes off at the door and saw all of the lights off.

"Where is the light switch in this place?" It had been far too long since you had been there but running your hand along the wall you eventually found it and smiled seeing that nothing had really changed. As you were about to sit down and relax in the very quiet dorm it was disturbed by very loud yelling and laughing. You softly groaned and looked over to see the door open and Junmyeon, Jongin, and Baekhyun walk looking like excited little kids. "What has you guys all excited?" You sat up on your knees curious of what’s got them all like this. Jongin was the one to speak, "No reason but you do need to come with us. It seems there was a mix up with where Yixing wanted you to go." You looked at him your shoulders slumping when you heard that and sighed pushing your hair out of your face. "Okay. Where is he?" You got up going over to put your shoes on and got a little creeped out when they followed and stood right behind you. "Guys?" The next thing you know you're being lifted off the ground by Junmyeon and being carried downstairs to a car. He sat you in first and the rest of them piled in and you all were off to who knows where. "Okay where are we going? Are we going to where Xing is?" None of them said anything and just shrugged silently. That annoyed you instantly. You wanted to know where you going because you definitely did not appreciate being whisked away by them. Everyone just sat in silence for a while until Baekhyun broke the silence. "You look nice (y/n)." He gave you a friendly smile and you couldn’t help but smile at him back. "Thank you Baekhyun. Can you please tell me where we're going? I'm getting hungry." You sank back in your seat feeling your stomach grumble as you spoke. "We're actually going out to eat. We just thought it would be a fun idea to just surprise you." He looked out the window as the car stopped and you noticed him smile a bit. "I guess that's fair, but will we see Yixing soon?" "Yeah. He's inside but he has a surprise for you. So you have to wear this." Baekhyun held out a blindfold and you eyed him wearily before hesitantly taking it and putting it on.

You all got out of the car each one of them helping you and guiding you to the restaurant, but you were noticing the walk was taking longer than it should have. You began to get tired of walking and didn't feel the guys' presence around you any longer. You sighed and took off the blind fold and saw that they tricked you. "Are you kidding me? You guys this isn't funny! Where are you?" You began to walk back in the direction you think you came from, but stopped hearing it. "Don't disappear you just got here." You turned around seeing Yixing looking even more handsome than when he was in the airport. "Was this your little plan? Having your hyungs kidnap me?" He chuckled and nodded unshamefully, "Yes, but only because I wanted to see you up close and in public." He started walking towards you and you could feel your heart racing a million beats per second. "Xing this is dangerous. We could be seen." "Good. I want them to see us together. I hate hiding you from the world. I hate hiding us, (y/n). I love you so much and I want, no I need everyone to see that. So I am coming to you as a man to admit my feelings and thoughts for everyone to hear. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and have been ever since I first saw you in that tiny music shop. I have been so lucky to date you for a year and a half and I know it's been hard to hide our relationship from everyone, but I am done hiding. I know I’m always talking about waiting on the right moment well, this is the right moment. I called your parents and confessed everything to them and asked them for their blessing." He slowly lowered himself down on one knee as the guys started coming out of their hiding spots phones in hand. "(Y/f, m, l/n) will you marry me? There won't ever be a love like this and I want you to always know that. Forever." There were really no coherent words that could come out of your mouth as you fell to your knees hugging him tightly. This was it. There was no more hiding after this. "Of course I will." He hugged you back tightly and you soon felt yourself spinning and you pulled your head out of the crook of his neck to take in his beautiful features and to of course give him the kiss you've both been craving. It was long and sweet. You both moved in sync with each other and when your feet hit the ground you could feel his hand on the back of your neck. Neither one of you wanted this moment to end, but you had to breathe. Pulling away to catch your breath's he grabbed your hand and slid the ring on with ease. "I love you." His voice was so quiet you could hardly hear him over the guys screaming for you both, but you thankfully did. "I love you too Xing."

[likeaspeedingarrow]

Of Coursework, Christmas and Unexpected Happiness

For the wonderful Kels (@snarkysnartes). Merry Christmas! I know its not exactly what you asked for but I hope you enjoy it anyway. My first attempt at a College AU, so I hope it makes people smile.

Summary: Barry just wants to get through his remaining work. Cisco wants to go to a party. Despite Barry's reluctance maybe the party won't be so bad. Who knew Mistletoe could bring unexpected happiness. College AU.

Barry flicked through his textbook as he watched the campus' population wander lightly around the grassy quad, he sighed in frustration wishing that he could just finish this last criminology assignment. His pen dropped onto the page in front of him as a coffee cup was slammed in front of him. “Hmm… Coffee,” Barry groaned, his hand reaching blindly in front of him.

“Oh man.” The voice of his best friend washed over his groggy conscience. “You look rough,” There were many times Barry could say that he appreciated Cisco, this… This was not one of those times. He shot Cisco a glare but his target didn't seem fazed. “Like, Victor from Corpse Bride rough. You okay man?”

Barry's hand finally wrapped around the elusive cup, his whole posture relaxing. “I'm stressed. Cisco this thing,” Barry looked at the paper in front of him in disgust. “is due in two days, two! I'm not even halfway through yet and I promised Iris I'd take her shopping for Joe's Christmas present and—”

“Stop!” Cisco shook his head. “You're giving me a headache, come on man it's nearly Christmas.” Cisco leaned back in his chair, the front two legs of it lifting off the ground.

“Careful,” Barry warned, returning to his coursework.

Bang.

“Ow!”

Barry rolled his eyes, “What did I just say?”

“Careful?”

Barry nodded, getting up from his seat to help his friend up. “You idiot.” He stated, exasperated. He missed the glint in Cisco's eyes as he pulled the other male up from the floor.

-o-

“Where are you taking me?”

“You'll see!” Cisco responded. Barry was really starting to hate that response, it had grown steadily darker around them as they made their journey and Barry was really starting to hate his supposed friend. Iris was going to kill him. “Right… Here!”

“Finally.”

“Cisco, it's so good to see you.”

“You brought me to some stranger's house? Cisco!” Barry bit out, frustrated. “Iris is so going to kill me.”

“No, I took you to a party. Laurel, lovely to see you.” Cisco stepped further into the house, leaving Barry bewildered.

Barry sighed in resignation. “If I do die,“He told Laurel, who'd remained to hold open the door. “He is not invited to my funeral.” He let out a small smile as Laurel laughed.

-o-

Barry felt out of place. He glanced around the room nervously, noticing the designer brand clothes of the other, obviously rich, guests. His fingers gripped the plastic cup in his hand a little tighter as his eyes flickered around the room, darting past the unknown faces in search of a familiar one.

His breathing grew shorter. Harsher, as though he couldn't figure out how to get oxygen into himself. Faces grew more blurry, the sounds duller, even as he felt the vibrations of the music sweeping through the floor below him

He didn't remember dropping the cup. Nor did he see who caught it. He only knew that one moment it was secure in his clenched hand and the next it was neatly placed on the table in front of him.

Then he heard it. The low voice in his ear, whispering something he couldn't quite decipher in this state.

Whatever was going on was working though. His breathing began to even out and all of a sudden he could hear and he could feel. He could hear the soothing voice in his ear, “You're safe, it's okay. Find a happy place.”

So that's what he did. Or, well more accurately, tried to do. With every attempt, his mind wandered. Back to the worst night of his life. He could feel himself grow tenser at the memory, only relaxing as someone's thumb brushed over the space between his shoulder blades. He let out a sound like a purr and then turned around, horrified.

“I-I… “His brain stuttered to a halt. This was Oliver Queen. The captain of the university's archery club that Iris wouldn't shut up about. Barry faced two realisations now. First, Iris was right and damn she was going to be absolutely insufferable. Second, Oliver Queen was equal parts attractive and intimidating.

Of course, then Barry had to realise that more than ten seconds had passed and he was still staring. A blush formed on his cheeks.

“Hi, Barry Allen right?” Oliver said brightly. Ever the perfect host, he was holding two drinks in his hands.

Blushing even more, Barry ducked his head slightly. “Yeah, thanks.” He wrapped a hand around his new drink, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. “So, uh...” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“So.”

Barry's eyes searched the room for a glimpse of the dark hair of the person who had dragged him here. His expression became one of pure panic as he realised he was on his own. With Oliver Queen. Great. Barry was probably going to make a fool of himself. “Great party.”

Oliver suddenly leant against the wall. “You look uncomfortable.”

Barry wanted to die. Right in this moment, he wished he had the power of invisibility just so that he could hide. “Parties aren't really my thing.” Truthfully, he wanted to be anywhere but here. The music was too loud, the vibrations from the speakers travelling through the walls and people were too close together, it made him hyperventilate.

Oliver was looking at him contemplatively again. “I get that.”

“You do?”

“Tabloids are sharks.” Oliver winked. “Come on we can go somewhere quieter.”

“I uh actually have some coursework left to do that Cisco dragged me away from. I should probably be heading home.” To be murdered, he added silently.

“I have some too. Come on.”

-o-

The house, as it turned out, was huge. Barry followed Oliver past half a dozen trees, down multiple fully decorated corridors and up a flight of stairs when he suddenly froze. “Everything okay?”

Barry studied Oliver's face from the angle he could see it. His eyebrows were set in a position conveying confusion, his mouth closed in a small frown and his jaw set in stubborn defiance of something. “Mistletoe.”

Barry glanced up. “Right.”

“Do you mind if I--”

Barry cut him off with a shake of his head and Oliver leaned forward. Slowly he brushed his lips against Barry's own as his hand fell onto Barry's hip. Barry wrapped his arm around Oliver's waist groaning as he deepened the kiss, fireworks exploding in his vision and a pleasant tingle making its way through every inch of his body. He would love to blame it on alcohol but truthfully he knew he hadn't drunk that too much, he wished he knew Oliver's thoughts though.

All too soon they broke apart.

“Wow.”

“Wow.”

“That was--”

“Something.” The two stared at each other for a while and wow Oliver's eyes were blue. Barry could get lost in those eyes, as endless as the ocean yet as clear as Central City's river. He was still panting slightly, his hand resting lightly on his companion's muscular back. He could feel Oliver's gaze on him, studying him in a similar fashion.

The moment was broken as one of the doors in front of them opened with a crash as the wooden door impacted the wall beside it. Two men came out (one dressed in a suit and the other, strangely, in a parka) as Barry stared in shock. Oliver merely raised an eyebrow.

“Oliver.”

“Ray.” Barry noticed a smirk of amusement cross Oliver's face.

“Snart?”

“Allen.”

Barry felt Oliver's hand gently wrap around his wrist. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah.”

“We'll leave you to it, come on Barry.” Barry had no complaints.

-o-

Barry wasn't sure what he was expecting Oliver's room to be like truthfully. The media had always portrayed him as a party boy so maybe some alcohol or some posters of girls perhaps but this, this was nice. Archery posters lined the walls and a bow stood proudly by the desk. The wooden furniture was decorated with emerald green fabric and green curtains hung on the window.

He'd learnt that Oliver was a Business major, particularly focusing on management since his parents wanted him to take over the family business once he'd graduated. He'd also learned that Oliver didn't want to.

The subject of his musings was frowning, his body bent slightly as he stared at his laptop his finger hovering over the submit button.

“You're staring.”

Barry blinked. “Sorry.”

“Don't apologise. Is everything okay?”

“It's stupid.”

“I doubt that.”

Barry sighed. “Christmas was always my mother's favourite holiday. We'd gather in the living room, my dad would always chase me around the room while my mother laughed and then we'd exchange presents. I miss her.”

Oliver swallowed. “What happened?”

Barry felt a tear trail down his face, Oliver's thumb brushing the back of his hand soothingly. Barry closed his eyes, composing himself. “She was… murdered when I was eleven. The culprit framed my father.”

Oliver felt like he'd been punched in the gut. “Barry.” Barry looked at him. “You can always talk to me. Do you understand?”

Barry nodded.

-o-

Joe always went all out. Barry couldn't help but feel cheerful as he joined his foster family in front of the tree. Iris was doing her best to keep him happy even as she did her usual routine of rearranging all of the ornaments she could reach. Joe chuckled at her antics even as Barry rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Joe had swapped his usual jazz for a Christmas album, adding to the festive feeling but despite this Barry's mind was miles away, replaying the memory of the events of the party, the feel of Oliver's lips on his, the way his skin felt under his palm.

He was brought out of his reprieve by Iris handing him a present. “Here.”

“Merry Christmas Iris.”

“Merry Christmas Bear.”

Barry handed her a present. “On three. One, two… Three.” The two tore into the presents with glee, the torn paper littering the floor beneath them. Barry ran his hand along the new wallet Iris had bought him as she examined the small figurine of a ballerina he'd bought her.

Iris wandered off into the kitchen in search of her dad and Barry suddenly noticed an extra present, innocently lying tucked in a corner just behind the tree. Being raised by a cop had taught him to be careful but his natural and well-developed curiosity got the better of him.

He carefully made his way to the tree, picking up the small box that was wrapped with some arrow covered green wrapping paper and secured with a scarlet red bow. A grin began to grow on his face as he quickly realised it was from Oliver.

In the box he found a letter addressed to him, a small, decorated arrow pin and what looked to be a flash card from Oliver's substantial stock bearing a message for him. Who knew Oliver could be such a sap?

He pulled out his phone and composed a two-word text message to Oliver. “Absolutely. Yes.” He now had a boyfriend.

His smile refused to move from his face for the rest of the night.

[denbroughbill]

daylight/moonlight (pt 1)

friday nights, for the losers club, were the best nights of the week. during the school week, everyone is busy with their normal routine. bill and stan, when they aren't with each other, had track and baseball practice on alternating days, making their schedules to see each other a complete wreck. ben stayed after school for a couple reasons, he was a library assistant and he also tutored younger students. his girlfriend, beverly, was in the theatre club, along with eddie. bev worked on costumes and eddie worked on lights.

mike didn't have any extracurricular activities. he supported all of his friend's, though. he went to bill's track meets and stan's baseball games, cheering as loud as he could. and he always went to the opening night of the high school play's and met beverly and eddie backstage, watching the show from there. mike had his hobbies, but work was his first priority. and he made sure to tend to the crops and round of the animals hours before their friday night plans.

they alternated weekly on who would get to pick what they did. last week, ben suggested bowling. no one was extremely good, but they were all competitive, and, of course, they all had fun. this week, stan was excited for the new addition to the alien series, so that's what they set out to do.

the group all met separately at the aladdin theater, but all just in time to purchase their tickets and visit the concession stand together. bill and stan normally shared a large popcorn, ben and bilvery a large slushie. eddie bought a pack of fruity candy, and richie had purchased nothing. the employee tore their tickets, giving them the stubs back, and instructioned them to visit cinema 4, and to "please, enjoy the movie,"

"hey, rich," mike grabbed his friend's shoulder to catch his attention. their friends had walked ahead, and mike promised to meet them inside, and asked if they could save him the seat at the end of the row. "you weren't gonna buy a snack?"

richie shrugged. "nah, it's good."

mike and richie didn't hang out much alone, but he could tell when something was up. richie never passed up an opportunity to grab a snack! he wasn't too sure what was wrong, and he wouldn't dare to ask, but he took it upon himself to maybe brighten his friend's mood.

"here, grab something," mike grinned, grabbing richie's arm to drag him back to the concession stand. "it's on me,"

richie almost refused, almost. mike could see the hesitation, when he slowly reached for a chocolate bar, and pulled his arm back. but, he eventually grabbed it.

"you can't watch a movie with out a good snack," mike grinned, and richie did too.

while walking back to catch up with their friends, richie grabbed mike's shoulder this time, to get his attention.

"hey," richie began.

"hey," mike laughed. he wasn't too sure what richie wanted, really. the two boys were standing on the side of the empty hallway, framed movie posters behind them.

"hey," he said again, "do you think i could spend the night? if mean, it's cool if i can't,"

there has been many times when the losers hung out, and richie didn't want the night to end. he stuck his head out the window of the passenger side and asked bill to drive a bit fast, and he would bang his silverware against the diner table to whatever song the jukebox was playing. he would complain and pout after their midnight snack run was over, but he always grinned and said, "'till next time."

mike, could tell, that was not what was happening tonight. richie was in a bad mood, for some reason. he was looking down at the checkered tile floor, holding his arm. he trusted mike enough to ask, so of course, he would oblige.

"yeah, sure," he said simply. mike placed a hand on richie's shoulder, and richie looked up at him. his sad eyes were magnified by those coke bottle glasses of his, but they started to shine once he smiled. "it's no big deal, trust me!"

"man, mike, you're the best!" richie exclaimed, wrapping his arms around mike's waist and squeezing him into the tightest hug mike thinks he's ever had. richie lifts him up, spinning him around, and eventually sits him down. luckily, mike didn't spill a drop of his soda.

mike's laughing, trying to assure richie it's no problem at all, but he doesn't have a chance to spit it out, "let's go watch the movie! we probably missed the trailers already!" richie grabs mike's arm, dragging him to the cinema room.

the movie was so long, the losers all mutually agreed to cut the night afterwards so they could go home and get some rest. richie grabbed his book bag from bill's car, and hopped into mike's. he could it upon himself to turn mike's radio as loud as it could go while they drove to the farm, richie's arm hanging out the window of the boy's pick up truck,

richie had visited the farm often. sometimes the boys would come and help mike and his father out with some work, or they would take turns on the tire swing. mike had a lot of land, and not all of it was covered in crops. his friends came and visited a lot, and always found something to do. but richie had never been inside of mike's home before. that reminder hit mike as he drove the boys to his house. was his room clean enough? did he change the trash? why was he worrying?

the boys were very careful and quiet while entering the house, stepping over mike's precious retriever, sassy, who was fast asleep. mike closed the bedroom door behind him when they entered, and turned on his desk lamp. "here you are,"

a tiny gasp escaped richie's lips, and he adjusted his glasses, looking around mike's room. mike stood still, but ushered for richie to look around, if he wanted. richie stepped forward, just a step, and turned his head to each wall. mike's room wasn't the biggest, and most of the space was taken up by furniture, but it was relatively clean and well taken care of. the right wall was covered by milk crates, mustard yellow wall paper peeked through the holes in the crates. they were stacked on top of each other, all filled with books, organized by color, it seemed. the other wall, a desk was pressed against the wall and above it, there were strings of yarn, and polaroid pictures attached to them.

richie chose to look at the left wall instead, books weren't really his things. while richie explored, mike decided to change into something he could sleep in. when he got closer to the desk, he noticed a small, potted plant and a closed notebook, with color pencils next to it. he examined the polaroid pictures closer, too. one of smiley eddie and beverly, arms wrapped around each other in a big hug, bill and ben arm wrestling with big grins, and as conceited as it seems, richie's favorite, a polaroid of himself. he was caught off guard, for sure, looking ahead at something, and there were shrubs or trees in the background. he can't remember if it was taken at the farm, or at the quarry, but richie liked it.

"here," mike tossed a stack of blankets on his bed, "this is all i could find, you know, on short notice."

richie dropped his book bag on the desk chair, and shook his head. "no, i get it, man. thank you, again."

"no, don't worry about it," mike said it, and he meant it. anyway he could help out a friend, he would do. "if you ever need to sleep over again, let me know,"

richie almost resisted, but he didn't open his mouth in time.

"please, richie." so richie nodded, even smiling a little.

"yeah, i'll let you know, thanks mike."

mike scanned the room, making sure there wasn't anything he would be missing, and the search turned up flat. "well, you can sleep in here," he laughed, grabbing a blanket for himself, "my parents would freak if they found you on the couch,"

he laughed too and nodded, taking off his glasses, "thanks again, mike!"

after mike went to sleep in the living room, richie laid in the unfamiliar bed, struggling to get comfortable. maybe there were too many pillows, richie slept with only one at home. or maybe he felt bad, for springing this on mike, so all of the sudden. he planned to stay at bill's that night, but he denied richie in the car on the way to the movie, and he didn't know what to do then.

the fact that mike was so understanding, and willing to let richie stay the night, eased his conscious a bit, almost enough to fall asleep. he rolled back and forth, from his left side to his right, then decided to just sleep on his back tonight. he hadn't noticed eariler, when mike had the lamp on, but there was a family of constellations on the ceiling, right above his bed. he wasn't too sure of the forms the little, tiny, glow in the dark stars stuck on the ceiling were suppose to represent, but he did recognize the big dipper.

some people have quirky things in their bedroom. beverly had a sewing machine in her room, hell, bill had traffic signs the gang stole while out, wreaking havoc in the middle of the night.

richie closed his eye for the night, after tracing every constellation in the sky with index finger, eyes squinted. he thought maybe mike could teach him about the stars, after he thanks him again tomorrow.