#I’m just honestly elated with how blatant it is

[clefaiiiry]

I’m still losing my mind over this

[imagine-turtles]

may i please request some making out and kissing headcanons for our favorite turtle brothers with their boyfriend, the male reader thank you? I love kisses of all kinds, making out, sweet small kisses, morning kisses, goodbye kisses, passionate kisses, just kisses, mwah mwah! 💕 sorry if this is weird, I just love kisses, it’s such a nice like intimate thing and it’s sweet and I love it and I’m a big ole sap lol. I wanted to request from you so hope this is okay! <3

SO okay, you have no idea. 😍 Bayverse, because you didn't specify.

Leonardo

Before he starts dating, he honestly thinks making out is kinda... gross. The thought of someone else's warm bubbly saliva in his mouth nearly makes him gag. Leo figures if he lands a partner, they probably won't be jumping down his throat anyways, so it hardly matters.

He just doesn't see the appeal until his boyfriend presses a sweet, chaste kiss square on his lips, and Leo almost instinctively opens his mouth ever so slightly.

His boyfriend doesn't taste sweet--of course he doesn't, Leo's not an idiot--just... familiar. And it kinda drowns out the little part of his brain screaming "NO!! GROSS!!"

However, he absolutely cannot deal with strong food tastes in his boyfriend's mouth. That really will make him nauseous.

Won't sit his boyfriend on the counter to kiss him, thinks it's so weird and refuses to let anyone else put their partners on the counter either. That is a food prep area ONLY.

Raphael

Acts like he doesn't give a shit about kissing because he can't handle how much of a shit he actually gives. If someone were to visibly dislike kissing Raph, prep for a nuclear meltdown; every self-deprecating thought he's ever had is true, he's never going to find love because he's ugly as hell with no personality, and everyone hates him.

It takes a while to acclimate Raph to kisses, and even longer to get him to initiate. The thought of his own boyfriend flinching away from him if he goes in for a kiss is literally paralyzing.

So he bitches and moans, and rolls his eyes incessantly, until he finally gets over himself.

The first kiss he initiates is stressful--probably the most stressful thing he's ever done, he thinks, despite risking his life every other day--but his boyfriend is so clearly elated by the sudden interest that

Donatello

It's kind of obvious when he starts taking a crush seriously, because Donnie suddenly starts caring way too much about whether his lips are chapped or not. Chapstick everywhere--Party Wagon, desk drawers, pockets, backpack, Shellraiser, tool chest, everywhere.

Half the time his kisses are in passing, between thoughts, or generally rushed, one hand on his boyfriend's cheek to make sure their heads don't collide somehow.

Didn't really get the appeal of tongue, assumed he'd figure it out and probably like it once he tried it. He was correct.

Shares Leo's opinion of sitting on kitchen counters. Yeah, he could just sanitize it, but Splinter eats off that counter. Won't say anything about it because he doesn't want to sound stuck-up, but he will surreptitiously tip off Leo.

Michelangelo

Got the impression kissing was way more fun than it actually is; he does love it, but it's not as mind-blowing as pop culture makes it out to be.

Everything that goes along with kissing, though, that's what he can't get enough of.

Mikey starts out innocently enough, hand in hand or legs barely brushing, but as soon as he gets the go-ahead he's all about pawing, groping, honestly just blatant grinding on whatever surface they've occupied.

Despite his limited attention span, he hardly ever finds himself getting distracted while kissing his boyfriend. Lips, hands, back, hair, legs, sexy lil boyfriend dumpy--if it's available, he's grabbing it. It reads as sexual at first glance, but a particularly observant boyfriend might accurately describe his handsiness as stimming.

NOT afraid to get noisy. It's mostly just because he won't stop talking to catch his breath, and whatever's happening is just going to happen in the middle of his sentence. Will definitely try to have a conversation half down his boyfriend's throat.

Got chewed out by Leo for making out on the kitchen counter. Tried to claim they weren't doing anything more than kissing and he was going to clean it so good afterwards, but it really didn't matter; Leo doesn't want asscheeks on the counter, clothed or otherwise. Took all of Mikey's self control to not make a comment that would've ended his life.

[sunjaesol]

because your kiss is on my list

alternatively: four times juke snuck up on each other for affection and the one time they didn’t have to | based on the achingly beautiful fanart by @lovelyrugbee

1. 

Luke was being manic again. And not in a cute: “Oh my God, he’s so passionate about music!”-way, but in a: “He might actually tear his eyes out from these infuriating lyrics that aren’t working”-way. Every once in a while, songs didn’t flow out as easily as they usually did. The topic was a bit trickier, or the instrumentals didn’t mesh, or something was just off. Julie wasn’t too stressed about it. They had plenty of time to rework and fix things before the gig in two weeks. 

Unfortunately, Luke didn’t have the same mindset. 

He has been holed up in the studio all day, cramped on the windowsill to the point of submitting himself to a hernia and scrapping writing scrapping scrapping scrapping. The sound was infuriating, Alex being the first to poof out and Reggie following soon after when Ray became far more interesting than a guitarist going haywire. Which was sad, cause her dad was just unloading groceries. 

Alright. She had to do something. Standing at the doors of studio with a somewhat amused expression, she took in as her boyfriend was oblivious to the world and her. In any other situation, he’d notice and compliment the orange dress she was wearing. She thought about calling his name, maybe singing or jamming her fingers on the piano, but then a better idea came. A fun one.

Quietly slipping closer, a mischievous grin crawled on her lips. Thank God she was barefoot, or else her sneakers would’ve squeaked against the cement floors. He still hasn’t noticed her, the pinch between his brow so deep and lost in thought. 

Three, two, one... 

“Ah!”, she cried out like a warrior, snapping her arms around him from behind and snatching the damned songbook from his grasp. Before he could react, she smacked a wet kiss on his cheek and added a “Mwah!” for good measure. 

The startled Luke began chuckling, trying to get his book back, her peppering more kisses on his cheek in retaliation. He had to get out of this funk! Breathe a little! Turning his cheek to look at her, he smirked. “Sneaking kisses now, Jules?”

Julie hummed against his skin, eyes sparkling. Whispering in his ear, she said: “Stop breaking your head over these lyrics and relax. We have time.” 

His smile softened, gaze tracking the way she hugged him and then- “I like the dress you’re wearing.”

Ah, yes. There he was. 

2. 

Julie Molina truly made the afterlife less boring and a whole lot more bearable. Which became really apparent whenever she had an avalanche of homework and couldn’t hang out. Luke loved his boys, but damn did he miss his girlfriend a lot now. If the situation were different (you know, had he not been head over heels in love with her), he’d poof up to her room and annoy her until she came to the studio. Alas, he respected his girlfriend and her interest in getting good grades, so he had to deal with it. 

Bleh. “Dealing with it” was like a curse word to him. 

He hasn’t seen her all day though. She left early for school and didn’t pass by the studio when she got back. All he needed was a quick look and talk and maybe a hug and then he wouldn’t be so antsy. 

(What he’d give to wrestle her into cuddling right now. He was honestly blessed he found a girl who saw all of his need for affection and then gladly gave triple the amount.)

Yup. Screw homework. He had to see her. Without telling the boys, he stood up with a huff and poofed out. The offended “hey!” from Alex he ignored. 

Dropping into Julie’s room, a smile instantly bloomed on his face at the sight of her. She was on her bed, textbooks and notes splayed out in front of her while her curls danced with each breath she took. Even when tired, his girlfriend was pretty as hell. 

“Hey,” he grinned.

She didn’t look up and mumbled: “Hey.” A page turned. “What’re you doing here?”

Luke sat down on the edge of her bed, far enough so her pens wouldn’t roll away. “Haven’t seen you today. I missed you.”

This time she did look up, her weary eyes softening and smiling. “I missed you too. I have homework though, so...” The implication was there: please leave so I can finish. His hope for a hug quickly dwindled.

“Yeah,” he muttered, not ready to go back and get slapped by Alex. “Uh...” His eyes fell on her right hand, slightly more outstretched then the other. It just... laid there. Teasing him. Freaking tantalising him when he knew how good it felt whenever those fingers brushed his cheeks or raked his hair. 

It happened before he thought about it. Crawling onto the mattress, he snatched her hand and pressed soft kisses on the knuckles. Julie caught his gaze again, that smile he loved so much melting into an adoring puff - like she couldn’t believe this idiot was her boyfriend.

He didn’t mind being her idiot.  

3.

Sometimes, Julie was just that more adorable. Like now, with her hair spread around her shoulders and that small smile stuck on her lips and her eyes that seemed impossibly soft today. All for him, only for him. 

Sure, it was probably because they were working on one of their personal songs, but the fact remained that his girlfriend still left him rendered speechless months into dating.

“What if we try it in a lower key?”, Julie proposed, nodding at his guitar. 

The song in question was a song about them. It wasn’t so lovey-dovey that it would turn the guys off, but it was still blatant. Only they would write about ‘the sea glass green of his eyes’ and ‘the smile that put Mona Lisa to shame’. 

He did what she asked, her singing the same verse again. It held more depth now, soulful and lively. The rasp in her tone made it playful and egged him on to join, like it was truly banter between lovers put to music. It was them. It was her. It was-

Luke abruptly stopped playing, pushed his guitar aside and grabbed onto her. She hardly had time to chuckle as he pressed his lips onto her forehead and held her as tight as possible. Warmth filled his chest, that strange sensation of being loved and loving back twice as hard, as she clutched his body. He almost got choked up. Here he was, in the sundrenched studio with the girl he adored playing the music they created together and she was singing it in such a quintessentially ‘them’ way. No one but them would ever truly understand the magic they conjured. How it was only explained through grins melting on skin and the giddy skip in his heartbeat. 

“What’s that for?”, she smiled. 

His hand trailed from her back to her cheeks with an elated shrug. How could he explain to her her ‘Julie-ness’ was dialled up to two hundred without sounding insane? Caressing the skin, he murmured instead: “I guess you’re just irresistible today.”   

Her eyes squeezed shut at his words, like she was embarrassed how much delight it brought her, and pressed her face back in his shoulder. 

Letting that giddy skip in his chest kiss her again, he gently pulled away to sent her a wink. “Let’s finish ‘Wicked Love’, yeah?”

4.

“So, Flynn’s been thinking-”

“Mh-hm.”

“-about a new poster for the gig we’re playing. The old one is a little amateur and she made some new concepts. Wanna see?” Julie held her phone at his face, his hand leaving the strings of his guitar to gently push it back. Falling back on the bed, she frowned. 

“Maybe later, I’m figuring out this progression...” His back bend over his guitar again, only giving her a view of the black muscle tee. 

When Luke told her he wanted to hang out that Saturday afternoon, she had hoped it would be a bit more ‘Julie and Luke’ and not ‘Luke and His Guitar’ - alas, the girlfriend was competing with a piece of wood and some metal. While texting Flynn about graphic design was fun, it was time for Luke to start doing what he promised her.

Then again, she was a sucker for music talk. “Why don’t you try switching up the chords? Start with G instead of C.”

He tried it out, a grin crawling on his cheeks. “Yeah... yeah, that works. Thanks, Jules.”

“So?”, she sang. 

“Hm?”

With a sigh, she grabbed onto the strap of his guitar and gave it a tug. Luke’s neck rolled backwards in surprise, catching her playful smile.  

Chastely pecking his forehead, she said: “Your head is in the clouds.”

The teasing look of his matched hers. “You’re kissing my head right now.”

“Mh-hm,” she mumbled, loving the way his hair had that perpetual scent of apple and something inherently Luke. Kissing the locks, she added: “And you’ll be getting a lot more if you actually start hanging out with me.”

His book and instrument slid off his body just like that as he speared her into hug. Luke collapsed onto her body with the cutest grin and she knew she caught him. Their laughs chimed throughout the house for the rest of the day. 

+5.

Luke poofed onto her bed with a grin, his girlfriend automatically snuggling into his side and finding each other’s lips with ease. For a beat, they’re cherished the quiet passion shared between them. They didn��t need to do a lot to feel loved by the other. 

He pressed his nose into her curls. “How was school?”

“Good,” Julie whispered against his neck. “How was the studio?”

“Chill. Reggie scared a spider.”

She giggled, the sound making his grin widen and hide his face so she wouldn’t see how ridiculously giddy she made him. Turning her head so she’d see him anyway, her nose scrunched. “I know you’re smiling.”

“That’s my line, Molina,” he huffed, the teasing glint shimmering in his eyes. 

A signature brow quirked. “You got that on paper?”

He didn’t miss a second. “I love you.” He didn’t need to ponder or linger or rewrite or scrap or workshop the thought. It wasn’t even a thought. It was a truth and he’d repeat that truth over and over again until the universe knew it too and kept it in their books for centuries to come. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. 

The smile that came was worth the truth, how her love for him broke through without a moment of hesitation. Now she’d say the same, over and over and over again, so the universe knew they were talking about each other and would always keep their names together in said books. 

Julie kissed him again, long and sweet and as easy as breathing. Her utters were barely audible, but his heart caught it. “I love you too.”

Locked in their embrace, they shared earphones listening to their favourite music until they fell asleep. (How Luke could fall asleep, but only when in her loving touch, he wouldn’t question. Some oddities of the universe were best unsaid.) 

@blush-and-books @unsaid-emily @bluefirewrites @willexx @ourstarscollided @alexjulies

[galaxyofmyown]

Hi!! I'm not sure if you'll take it (and that's 100% okay!!) but as a request can you write hotch x younger, shy reader? I'm just all about that age gap with him (yes, that's my daddy issues speaking up). Have a nice day!! ❤

hi! this was so fun to write. i was aiming for like, idk, 500 words? and then oops! i wrote almost 2000. i accidentally made it specifically for a female reader, so let me know if that doesn’t work for you and i can tweak it. also, sorry if the end feels rushed, but i’m about to fall asleep and i wanted to wrap this one up so i could write the other requests tomorrow. let me know what you think! xx

aaron hotchner x reader - surprise me

“Hey, (Y/N). Drinks? Everyone’s going.” You hear Derek ask. You smile before spinning around in your desk chair.

“God, yes. I was hoping you’d ask, I really need to blow off some steam.” You reply, getting up and grabbing your bag, having already packed up for the night. The team had just gotten back from Middle-of-Nowhere, Kansas, and to say the case was intellectually challenging was an understatement. It felt a lot like piecing together a never-ending puzzle, but you had saved the lives of countless innocent people. There was no better feeling.

Drinking is a close second, however, which is why you were impatiently pacing near the elevator as the rest of your team gathered their things. As soon as everyone arrived, you filed into the elevator.

“You look excited, (Y/N).” Emily said with a smile, knocking her shoulder into yours. You laugh.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Any excuse to spend more time with my favorite group of people!” You say, your voice taking on a teasing tone as you poke a pink-polished finger into Reid’s side. Reid yelps and jumps away, blushing slightly. The rest of the team laughs, Morgan reaching to ruffle his hair. You smile at the sight. They were truly a second family to you. The elevator doors were nearly closed when a large hand reached in and caused the doors to jerk and reopen.

And there he was.

Your boss, Aaron Hotchner. You tensed despite yourself as he slid in right next to you. Rossi clapped him on the shoulder.

“Nice of you to join us.” He said. Hotch nodded, professional as ever. Everyone looked as surprised as you felt.

“You’re coming out with us, sir? You never come.” Garcia said, not unkindly. You all understood his commitment to his son, so you couldn’t really blame him for always being too busy for drinks. Unlike everyone else, your surprise was less pleasant and more panicked. Even though you’d been on the team for well over a year, you still found it extremely difficult to talk to Hotch outside of a case.

It might have something to do with you being head over heels for the older man.

“Jack is with his aunt for the weekend, so JJ convinced me to tag along. I hope that’s alright with everyone.” He said, looking directly at you. You nod and force a tight smile, missing the way your discomfort makes his brows furrow.

There goes your plan to let loose. You can’t help but monitor every word, every movement you make when you’re around Hotch. You found him attractive the moment you met him, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you realized you actually had feelings for the man. You loved how caring and loyal he was, and you appreciated every smile and laugh he allowed himself. He was also a natural leader, solid in a way no other man in your life had been. You understood, however, that Hotch would never settle for someone as young and inexperienced as you. Aside from the odd celebrity crush, you had never felt so attracted to an older man. It left you floundered, constantly at a loss for words. He probably thought you were an immature girl who couldn’t control her feelings at 28.

You rode with Emily to the bar, who couldn’t stop laughing at your nerves. She was your best friend, so she knew all about your unfortunate crush. Hopefully she was the only one.

“He’s really a nice guy, (Y/N). Not intimidating at all. Well, not when you actually talk to him. You should try it sometime.” She said, pulling the bar door open for you. You rolled your eyes.

“I do talk to him. That’s the problem. The more I’m around him the more likely it is that I die of a broken heart. Do you want me to die, Prentiss? Is that what you want?” You said. Emily barks out a laugh at your theatrics. Your conversation is cut short as you approach the large round booth your team is occupying for the night. Emily sneaks over to sit next to Rossi, leaving only the seat next to Hotch. She smiles with false sweetness and you slide in across from her, and you kick her lightly under the table. You stay as close to the edge of the seat as you can manage, trying your hardest not to impinge on Hotch’s personal space.

You’re about to ask if anyone wants a drink when Hotch slides your favorite drink, a Moscow Mule, over to you.

“It’s your favorite, right?” Hotch asks, his voice soft over the noise of the bar. You falter. How did he know that? You probably haven’t ordered a drink in front of him in months.

“Um, uh, yeah. Thank you.” You say. He nods curtly. You both turn away from each other, and you sip at your drink, hoping it’ll take the edge off soon enough. 

Despite the pleasant conversation you have with your team, you can’t shake your nerves. Three drinks deep and still feeling like you’ve had the breath knocked out of you every time you see Hotch laugh.

“So, Hotch. Anyone special in your life?” Garcia asks boldly, trying to shake the attention off her and her current love life.

Nope. Not happening. You get up from the table abruptly, shaking the table slightly as you do so. Great, now everyone is looking at you.

“Um. Anybody want another drink?” You ask. JJ requests another vodka soda and Hotch politely asks for a beer. You never drink beer, but you’re too nervous to ask which kind. You rush off to the bar, where a bartender about your age is wiping down the counter.

“Hi! Can I get a vodka soda, a glass of water, and a beer, please?” You ask, feeling your nerves dissolve. The bartender looks up, his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

“What kind of beer?” He asks. You shrug, defeated.

“Honestly, just surprise me.” You say. He smiles, clearly amused, and turns to get your drinks. You don’t even notice someone approaching until you hear a familiar voice clear his throat.

“(Y/N).” He says. You turn, trying not to shy away as Hotch towers over you.

“Yes?” You say, willing your voice to not sound squeaky.

“Can we talk?” He asks, pulling at his tie. 

Fuck.

“Sure. Let me just…” You trail off, motioning at the bartender. Hotch nods in understanding. Just as he does, the bartender slides the drinks over to you. Hotch grabs JJ’s drink and walks it over to her. Emily sends you a suggestive look from across the room. You flip her off and turn to the bartender.

“Please add these to Emily Prentiss’ tab. That’s P-R-E-N-T-I-S-S.” You say, and the bartender laughs.

“No problem, um-” He says. You smile.

“(Y/N).” You say, filling in his blank.

“Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He says before being flagged down by another customer.

You turn around with your water and Hotch’s beer, only to bump right into the older man.

“Jesus fuck!” You exclaim as ice water stings your hand. Hotch laughs, a deep rumbling sound that completely entrances you.

“Sorry.” He says, freeing up one of your hands by taking his beer.

“I hope you like that kind. I’m not much of a beer drinker.” You say, trying for a smooth recovery. Hotch nods appreciatively.

“This is perfect,” He says, and you unclench slightly, “could we talk outside? It’s a bit loud in here.”

You nod, and he guides you out of the bar with his hand on your elbow. The crisp evening air takes some over the edge off. Hotch leans against the brick wall and you do the same. You’re only illuminated by the purple neon “open” sign hanging over you.

“I wanted to apologize.” Hotch blurts out, taking you by surprise. You tilt your head to the side, asking a silent question. Hotch almost dies on the spot.

“I- I’ve acted inappropriately towards you, and for that I apologize. I value your expertise and think you’re an invaluable member of this team. I never intended to make you uncomfortable.” He says in a rush, throwing you completely off guard. It takes you a moment to remember how to talk, but when you do all that comes out is-

“What are you talking about?”

Hotch runs a hand through his hair and smiles, but it looks painful.

“Please, (Y/N), don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“That I have feelings for you.”

And then you wake up.

Well, this is the part where you should wake up, but you’re still here, outside with Hotch. Hotch. Aaron Hotchner. Who likes you.

“What?” You said, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Hotch smiles again, resigned.

“Please. You must’ve noticed. I haven’t been exactly inconspicuous. And again, I’m sorry. It must make you very uncomfortable for someone more advanced than you in both age and position to be so blatant in their feelings for you.”

“What is happening?” You whisper, mostly to yourself. “You- you like me?” You ask as if he hasn’t made it obvious enough. Hotch actually has the audacity to look ashamed as he nods. After you’ve had a moment to process, you can’t help the world-stopping, blinding smile that graces your face. You tentatively reach for his hand. Hotch looks up at you in disbelief as you entwine your fingers with him.

“(Y/N)?” He asks carefully, not fully trusting the scene unfolding before him.

“I had no idea,” You say, feeling elated, “I always thought I was the one being obvious about my feelings.”

Hotch jerks his hand away, and your face falls.

“But- you shouldn’t have any feelings. Not for me.” He says, his face turning stony before your eyes. 

“Why not?”

“Because, (Y/N)! I’m too old for you. I can’t give you what I want. You deserve to be with someone your age, someone who can give you all of his time.” He says, taking a step away from you. You take another step towards him.

“Hey, no. Is your name Aaron Hotchner?” You ask, pulling him towards you.

“What? Yes.” He says, clearly confused. You slowly and gently take his face in your hands, bringing his forehead down to yours.

“Then you are what I want, Aaron.” You whisper, the name tasting sweet in your mouth. Hotch practically melts, pulling you into a hug by your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck and revel in the warmth of his body and fast beat of his heart. 

“(Y/N), my darling girl,” He says softly, pulling back slightly. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod eagerly, and he pulls you to him. He kisses the way he loves, carefully yet passionately. When you pull away you feel like a new woman, and you wrap your arms around him once again.

“You are amazing.” He says, his words warming you even more than his touch. You kiss him again.

“Let’s go home, Aaron.” You say. And you do.

[brown-honey]

Austenland

Here's part 2 to Austenland, Enjoy!

Part 1: https://mrsbarnesshelby.tumblr.com/post/190127648027/austenland

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As I estimated, 1am is when I fell asleep. Immediately I was disturbed by the loud screaming of my alarm telling me that it was 6am. I groaned in annoyance and slammed my hand down on the silence button. Getting ready quickly, I was on my way. Of course Justas I got to the bus stop, it had just driven off, "Shit" I cursed rubbing a hand over my face, now warm from running. A small elderly woman who was sat next to me, threw a scowl in my direction, her eyes reduced to slits. I could only imagine because of my profanities, "Sorry" I mumbled before speed walking in the direction of the café.

As quickly as I could, I tapped in my code to clock in and tied an apron around my waist. Luckily for me, Veronica's laugh could be heard from the back of the kitchen. At least Steve was distracted for a while. I slipped in behind them and started my daily duties. My phone buzzed lightly in my pocket, lighting up with Anna's smiling face,

'Hey girl, You're getting the train tomorrow morning at 7. I'll drop you off xx'

Talk about short notice Anna! This was going to be awkward to explain my sudden need to leave. While the shop was quiet, I tapped Steve on the shoulder hoping he was in a good mood. He spun around, greeting me with a bright smile. He was actually kind of handsome when he wasn't acting like a heart eyed zombie, following Veronica around. "Lizzie, how can I help you?" He cheered. My eyebrows shot up at his enthusiastic manner ," I .. um.. well, I know that this is very much short notice but, I need to take some time off work" I twisted my fingers in anticipation, but his face never changed, it was like he was in a permanent state of elation. "Yes, yes of course, how long do you need ? A month? Two?" He spoke so fast I could hardly keep up , "Not quite so long, just 2 weeks?" I replied, astounded by his lack of concern. "Of course, of course. Well we'll see you when you get back then!" He rejoiced. "Steve!" A sweet voice called from the back, there she was waving him over. Did she ever do any work? "Wait! does that mean I can go home?" I called as the two sneaked off giggling. I never got an answer so I took it as a yes. I deserved the time off anyway.

 Beep. Beep. Beep. "Come on Lizzie, we're going to be late!" Anna beeped her horn continuously until I was completely out the door, dragging my heavy suitcase with me, "You know I would be going faster if I were to have some help!" I huffed as I hauled my case into the boot of her car. "Sorry doll, can't lift anything, just got my nails done for the pre honeymoon" She wiggled her perfect red manicured fingers at me. Anna really was perfectly glamourous, her blonde highlighted hair was always blow dried to perfection, her hazel eyes sparkled whenever she spoke passionately. A lot of people were intimidated by her beauty but I would just look at her and smile.

The black screen that broadcasted the 8:30 train to Bakewell, Derbyshire glowed orange. I turned to Anna, a huge glowing smile on my face "Thank you so much for this, I'm so lucky to have you" tears began to swell in my eyes with appreciation, " Don't even mention it, I love you doll, have an amazing time" She wrapped me in a hug before ushering me onto the train. I took a window seat with a table and got my copy of Pride and Prejudice out ready for the ride. I waved at her until she was a tiny smudge in the distance. I was doing this, my dream. Lyme house, the place where Mr Darcy lived. Cue intense amount of fangirling. My fingers fused with the parchment of the book as a light sweat covered my hands. I was nervous, how many people would be there? Would I be accepted? I tried not to get worked up, this was going to be good. It was going to be perfect.

Pulling up in front of Lyme house, I couldn't help but stare in awe. One person would own all of this? How would you have time to clean it all? "Hello! Hello there!" A high pitched voice called out. A tall woman clad in bright pink was running towards me, "Oh hello! Are you here for Austenland too?" She wore a huge smile on her pretty face. Her cheeks were bright with blusher and her yellow blonde hair was wrapped up in tight curls, " Hi, yes I am, my nam-" Delight consumed her face, "Oh brilliant! let's go check you in" I didn't even get to ask her name before she grabbed my hand and started guiding to the 'check in'. We arrived at a smaller house that was just outside the house grounds, sat behind a desk was an older woman who looked strikingly like Mrs Bennett. Her hair was pulled back with a few curls framing her face, and a white lace bonnet on her head. Her eyes were cold, and immediately unimpressed with me with the way she looked me up and down, "You are?" She asked in a nasty, privileged kind of way. "Elizabeth Aston" I smiled trying to warm her aura. "There will be some rules during your stay with us. 1. No electronic devices " She held out her hand expectantly. Immediately I pushed it into her hand, "2. No modern clothing 3. You will be assigned 1 love interest through out your stay 4. Absolutely no inappropriate touching of the actors" The word actors made me wince, nothing was going to be real, "There will be a trunk of the correct clothing in your room, which I'm sure Miss Taylor won't mind escorting you to" I gave her a curt nod and turned to leave, "Oh and Miss Aston, if you need anything, I am the woman of the house Mrs Becker"

Miss Sarah Taylor lead me to my room, the house was just as I had imagined it. I really would be living here, even if it was just for a while, "This is your room, oh isn't it beautiful!" Miss Taylor exclaimed. Her enthusiasm was astounding honestly, almost as astounding as the vibrant pink regency dress she wore, with a neon green feather tucked into the back of her hair. She was sweet but I couldn't help laughing at her good spirits, "Thank you Sarah" I grinned at her and began searching through the wooden trunk of dresses. I pulled out a wonderful cream and gold dress, staring at it's shimmer. "I'm staying down the hall, and dinner is at 6" She chirped, just as she was about to leave, I called her back, "Sarah, could you please help me? I've never put on one of these before" I questioned. I'd never seen anyone's eyes light up the way hers did in that moment. She let out a little squeal and immediately began doing my hair, "I've waited my whole life for this moment"

After a couple of hours of politely telling Sarah that neon yellow really wasn't my colour, we settled on the elegant white and gold dress I had chosen. Curls rippled down both sides of my face and the rest was up in a braided bun. "I think you may just be a genius " I said twirling a piece of hair around my finger. She admired her work on me from afar," Yes it is some of my best work. Now I must go change into my evening gown so I will meet you at dinner" And she giddily galloped out of the door. A small burst of anxiety began brewing in my stomach as I made my way down the grand staircase. Sucking in a deep breath, I went to push the double doors open, but they opened on their own. Two butlers were standing by the doors, they were wearing awful white wigs and their skin was too dark a shade of orange to be natural, "Oh there you are Miss Aston, I was wondering whether you had gotten lost" Mrs Becker's gravelly voice echoed through out the dining room.

The wooden walls were a rich mahogany, accompanied by portraits of the former family of the house. Sitting in the middle was a long table draped with a starched white table cloth. Running down the middle was the largest variety of meats, vegetables, fruits, jellies in amazing intricate designs and pies, "Come along girl, the food is getting cold" Mrs Becker snapped causing me to acknowledge the other people in the room. She motioned for me to take a seat a chair down from a man with a huge moustache that curled into little 'c's on each side. He grinned at me in the same enthusiastic way that Sarah did, "Miss Aston, allow me to introduce you to Mr Andrew Westcott on your right, Miss Caroline Evans, Mr Becker my husband and my nephew Mr Henry Clayton" Mrs Becker introduced everyone. I gave a small nod and smiled at everyone until my eyes rested on Henry Clayton. I think I blinked several times too many trying to distinguish an imperfection on that mans face, "Good.. Good evening Mr Clayton" My voice wavered. He barely even had the manners to look at me before returning the to his food, "Evening" He replied, short, sharp and unfeeling. How rude. I swiftly gazed around the table until I locked eyes with Caroline Evans, she beamed at me but it did not reach her eyes, "My, my I must say Miss Aston you are looking awfully handsome this evening" Mr Westcott declared with volume. His accent was strange, almost as if he was faking a British accent but it was real. Just as I was about to thank him, Mr Clayton interjected with a sneer. I raised my eyebrow at his blatant distaste for me, "Something the matter Mr Clayton?" I asked with faux politeness. He looked at me again with no emotion, "One's looks can be deceiving" I could not supress the annoyance scrunching up on my face, what a disagreeable man! , "One could say the same thing about you, I would assume that you were a pleasant man had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner" I retorted, feeling my face and neck warm, when I realised that everyone was watching us.

There was an awkward silence for a moment until- "Here I am !" Sarah burst through the doors, knocking the butlers clean out. Her booming American accent echoed throughout the room. She looked regal... in a luminous pink kind of way but eye catching none the less. Mr Westcott looked thoroughly impressed, while Miss Evans not so much, "Ah Miss Taylor, I am so glad that you could join us this evening" Mrs Becker said looking delighted. Sarah perched next to me, immediately digging into her food, "What took you so long, Everyone here hates me" I whispered to her. She giggled girlishly before glancing at something behind me. It was Mr Westcott. "I had to look my best" she winked, "I do wonder Mrs Becker if I could entertain you and the other guests with a few songs on your grand piano after supper" Miss Evans suggested batting her eyes in the direction of Mr Clayton. I think someone had an admirer..

    I hope that you liked this chapter! There is a lot more to come, more fluff is on the way. Stay tuned everyone, thank you for reading xxx

[nightwingshero]

Unwanted

Okay guys, so I’ve been working on two different stories for FC5: one that follows the game and the other is a burlesque/mafia au that I couldn’t get out of my head. This is the first piece of work I’ve posted for Wren and John, and its for the burlesque au. I’m going to be posting my work on AO3 soon, but I got really excited about this and wanted to share it! Trigger warning for some alcohol use and dark thoughts, so read at your own risk!

Her green, venomous eyes were taunting. She sneered at everything that came across her withering gaze, her hips swaying with a little extra effort to gain the attention from those around her. It was in vain, of course, with Rowan’s performance still in full swing. But that didn’t stop this woman from holding her head high as she looked down her nose to our dancers. We’ve had people in here before from the first class. Most of the time, they were pleasant, friends of Whitney or John. Some just stopping through to check out the club they’ve heard so much about, but that southern charm had never failed. Until now.

She flipped her platinum blonde hair, the curls catching the little light that created the ambiance. Her short emerald dress hugged her curves, showcasing her breasts perfectly. I was almost impressed. I shifted a bit, fidgeting with the material of the outfit I wore for my last performance. I was talking to John before he had ducked outside to take a call from a client. I stood there, waiting for his return, but as her gaze narrowed on me, I knew I was in for it.

“Where’s John?” she asked in a clipped voice. I would have thought her beautiful, if her personality had matched. I frowned at her.

“I’m sorry, he’s not available. May I ask who’s asking?” I asked in curiosity. John had people come in here and there, asking for his time. This wasn’t new. He would brush them off, telling us to make sure to ask who they were and why they wanted to see him. He was so allusive here, insistent that his business hours were always clearly communicated. If those expectations weren’t met, then too bad. He took his schedule seriously.

She sneered at me, her glossy lips shimmering with her teeth. “I’m his fiancée. Now, go tell him that I’m here.” My brows shot up in surprise as my heart stopped. Fiancée? He had never mentioned…

“I didn’t realize he was engaged.” I replied quietly, hoping to keep the disappointment hidden. I felt deflated, as if someone had poked a hole in me. I wanted to stay neutral, not give away how my heart sank to the pit of my stomach at the thought of it. But she smirked, her green eyes twinkling.

“Well, he is.” She let out a little laugh. “Its cute, you know? This little crush you have.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh please.” She snapped. “It’s so obvious. He probably already knows. You wear it on your sleeve. It’s disgusting and pathetic.” She clicked her tongue as she gave her a look of pity. “Let me guess, you’re some country girl from the middle of nowhere who is trying to make it in the big city. Am I right?” I don’t answer. I’m raging, the blatant rudeness wiggling under my skin. But I can’t seem to defend myself. My tongue feels heavy and the tears are coming. It only fuels her, knowing she is so close to making me collapse into myself like a house of cards.

“Oh honey, did you really think he would go for that? Some little girl playing dress up when she belongs back on the farm? You’re way out of your league.” She steps closer, placing a hand on my shoulder as she squeezes with a false sense of reassurance. As if we were in this together, the two of us against the world. “Honestly, I’m doing you a favor. Saving you from the humiliation of rejection. John has standards, a particular taste darling. And this? This isn’t you. It’s not fitting in the slightest. Whore isn’t exactly on John’s radar. He prefers women of class, love. You’re beneath him. It’s time for you to understand that you’ll never be good enough for him.” She smiles again, before rubbing her hand on my cheek. Then with a slight smack against my skin, she’s gone, and my eyes are catching Whitney’s shocked ones.

The room spins as I lean against a chair for support as Whitney tries to call for me. Fight or flight is strong in my veins, roaring in my ears as my stomach twists and twists, creating something I don’t recognize within me. Reforming, as I stumble to the back, desperate for something I can cling to, something real I can put inside myself to make me real. I’m a ghost of something as I gather my things to leave. The breath in me is gone, forcing me to choke on the stale cigarette smoke Adelaide is supplying. I’m almost in a trance, and yet I feel some sort of clarity. The fantasy broken like a magic mirror, and suddenly I am seeing my true self in the broken pieces lying before me. I barely register Faith’s words, but I’m sure she’s asking if I’m alright. I smile, say yes, pretend that I’m still the same person on that stage. She’s not convinced and so I tell her I’m going home. My sleeve must be dirty from everything that shows there.

I leave quickly, feeling like a fool. Perhaps I should laugh, like most clowns do, pulling all those emotions out of my sleeve like a colorful handkerchief chain. That would require a voice, something I was lacking. A mime would be more fitting. My body the tool, invisible and locked inside a box I created for myself as I tried to put on a display. A vision no one had wanted, the piece of art that sat in the back unwanted. I forced a sob down as I entered my car, fumbling for the keys.

I wish I could say that I remembered getting to my apartment. Out of character for small town Wren, sweet little Wren. The box was closing in, my chest threatening to implode. I let go, the tears and sobs forcing my body curl into itself on my bed. The little moments were a mirage, something my naïve brain believed to be something more. How many times had he been there to protect me? His bullet wound had only just healed. How many times had he saved me? The disaster of a date with Detective Pratt merely weeks ago. I could still taste the fear on my tongue as Pratt plied me with glass after glass of wine. The gentleness in which John had handled me, almost caring. Like I was the most fragile thing in his world.

I scream them into my pillow, the broken pieces of my heart. Pieces of my soul shattering like the illusion of him, the illusion of what I thought we could have become. I breathe in deeply and that’s when I feel the shift, the steel resolve of my psyche overcoming me. It’s the numbness I notice first, turning my sobs into nothing. I rise, making my way to the kitchen like a vengeful spirit that is the one being haunted. The vase is crystal, a gift from Adelaide for the new place, but it’s the flowers I want. He had them sent to me, celebrating our big show only a few nights prior. I laughed to myself, remembering the rush I had felt. For the first time, I had felt high. Elated.

I swayed, humming to myself a bit as I made my way to the bathroom. Turning the chrome handle, I began to run the hot water, desperate to feel the burn against my skin to help me rid myself of her touch. To purge the gaze that had taken me in with such disdain, as if I was a stain upon this earth. Her tainting touch scorched my skin, leaving an invisible mark that only I could see. That I could feel. And with that, I ripped the soft petals from the stems, allowing them to sprinkle down into the water. They dance across the surface, a secret waltz that only they knew.

One by one, I light candle after candle, a dark ritual that was only just beginning. My hair is twisting up and up, piling elegantly on top of my head, and then I’m dipping into the water. The warm, baptizing water welcoming me, loving me as it takes me as I am. Scars and all, it holds me securely in it’s embrace. I could almost hear the shushing of its calming voice, almost feel the comforting fingers of my mother as she played with my hair. The ghost of her was almost enough, pushing me back to a time where I didn’t have to feel the weight of loss or rejection.

And suddenly, her ghost is gone. Blue eyes have taken over haunting me, her fingers replaced by his tattooed ones. He plays me like a harp, pulling my tight strings just so he could hear me sing, watch as I move with a simple flick. The hypnosis of his ocean eyes is deep and tempting, calling for my drowning. They wish to claim my last breath, the very last bit of my being. And I’m rising from the water, panic clawing my throat because I can feel the pull, feel his gaze as I felt hers. I fight off the tears that demand to be seen, that want the show they so rightfully deserve. It was only fair, my heart screams, but I laugh at it. Life is never fair.

I stand naked in the mirror, but I see her standing next to me. The blue bloods that own this city, the embodiment of the perfect Georgia peach. A woman I could see John taking by the waist with pride. Her red lips and dark lashes, the long neck and golden blonde hair on display for all to see. My body not nearly as lean or as striking. I imagined her in her castle as a child, the beautiful princess of Atlanta, ruling her kingdom with her head held high. My childhood filled with softball tournaments and the old beaten up acoustic guitar that slept in the corner, while she attended operas and orchestra concerts. A culture I had never dreamed of, a social circle that could never be touched by the likes of me.  

I dry my skin, the feeling of being paper thin is overwhelming. I laugh to myself, because I know what comes next. I know what I’m about to do. It’s silly, childish, and yet I glide to my dresser. Slowly, I pull out my favorite number, something I had always imagined wearing for him. Not on stage, no. This was something for him and him alone. I put on the bra, the black lace striking against my skin and suddenly I’m untouchable. Slipping on the lacey underwear to match, I turn to my closet, desperate for the last pieces. The silk ebony robe sending shivers down my spine as it caresses me, and it’s as if I’m being held in my lover’s arms. The heels are last, simple and elegant. Tall and black, two thin straps leaving my feet bare, the same shoes I had worn to my father’s funeral. I felt like death herself, all powerful and ready to take whatever she wanted. Provocative and demanding, a queen among men.

My hair is released, falling like a waterfall down my back. It felt good to pretend, to believe in this moment that I was like her, that I wasn’t me. That I was a woman that was cherished and wanted, an envy-worthy being. I reason with myself; I know I’ve gone mad. I had fallen off the deep end and taken flight, and it had never felt better. The feeling addicting, the need for more growing and growing. The heels clicked against the wood floor, fueling me. The righteousness they sang, the vengeance they demanded, it became a soothing lullaby.

The kitchen is dark, only the light above the stove and sink burned with life. I reached for the most expensive red wine I had, pouring a glass with a smile of satisfaction. The blood red liquid was all consuming, drawing me closer. The dark, bitter taste becoming my sanctuary, but I wasn’t done. No, far from it. And as I sat down at my small vanity back in the bathroom, I choke yet again on a sob, and force out a laugh instead. I had a plan, a traitorous plan against the tears that begged for the freedom they longed for. I knew how to trick the emotions into becoming wisps of smoke on the inside of my porcelain glass exterior. I had never been an artist, but I paint. The burgundy against my lips, the black liquid liner creating sharp edges that would dare touch without permission. The brush then creates a frame for the windows of my soul, residing in the blue green irises staring back at me. They’re heavy, sad even, but the mascara does its job and I finish with a flourish.

I’m suddenly beautiful, a perfect doll someone would love to have, to play with, and have on their arm. I wonder briefly which arm he would use to put around my own waist, and suddenly my vision swims. I scoff as I hold my head high and take a sip in victory, toasting myself for outsmarting the betrayal of my heart that suddenly matched the blue of his eyes. I was so strong, I told myself. I was better. But as I held the glass gently, it became comforting to me, whispering sweet nothings and promising me a numbness that kept me safe and sound. I knew I was lying to myself. I was far from better.

A sound pulls me from the calling, and I set the glass down as I rose. The noise led me to my bedroom window, finding a cat messing with some metal trashcans as it scavenged for its next meal. Then I hear the soft clicking of my front door, and I scoff while squeezing my eyes shut momentarily. I should have known. Rowan was the only other one with a key, and I could almost bet that Faith had sent her my way. The wine’s singing int the next room, creating an atrocity of noise in my head. Perhaps just one glass, just to get the noise to go away. To make everything quiet.

Rowan would wait patiently in the living room; she respected my privacy. She wouldn’t just wander around. No, she would sit on the couch or at the kitchen table, preparing for whatever conversation she had planned on having. “Rowan, I’ll be out in a moment.” I call out in a sigh, letting her know I was aware of her and wasn’t being ignored. “I hope your show ended well. Sorry I wasn’t there to see the grand finale.” Every word was an effort, taking energy away from me. I wanted nothing more than to be alone.

I give only a few more seconds as I come to my decision and began making my way back to my bathroom. I could down the glass quickly. Rowan gives no response, but I don’t mind. It doesn’t matter. But as I step into the bathroom, I freeze. The blood in my veins suddenly turn to ice and my breath hitches. The glass was missing, as if it were never there in the first place. Sad and confused, I approach the vanity. The red wine, that had matched my lips, was gone. Staring at the reflection in the mirror, I’m reminded that I could never be her, or any of them. The beautiful women that could seduce him with just a soft smirk, a glance in his direction as her finger curled, beckoning him closer. I cringe as I turn away. I didn’t need another reminder that I wasn’t good enough.

“Rowan, give it back. I’m fine. Let me finish my fucking wine.” I stomp down the fall, my heels screaming their wrath. That’s how I enter my kitchen, ready for war, but I stop as something catches my attention. I make my way to the sink in a daze as I reach for my empty glass, the stain from my former lipstick taunting me. The wine bottle is set down and I reach for it, not caring of the guest I had yet to acknowledge. The lightness of the glass bottle tells me exactly what I had been thinking, it had not been spared. Everything was empty, just like me.

I slam the bottle down as I clench my teeth, seething. I wanted to scream, to see the world burn with the rage I was feeling. “Rowan!” I snap and I begin to shake, but whether it was from anger or the lack of control, I wasn’t sure. “Are you fucking kidding me? I barely had any—”

I’m no longer yelling but choking on the gasp that rushes out as fingers caress my neck, a hand gripping my hip tightly. They tease at the base of my neck before tracing my collarbone. The hand on my hip is sliding and sliding until its entangled with the knot of my robe. I know this touch, this gentle melody against my skin. The same gentle caress that ran over my skin as he marked me, embedding his creation into my skin with his dark ink. A permanent work of art that would be displayed on me for the rest of my life, and then suddenly he grasps my neck, squeezing only slightly. I knew what this was. I knew that this was a punishment, his own way of showing his disappointment for my lapse. He wouldn’t hurt me, I trusted him, and I knew that concern was driving his anger. My head rests against his shoulder as his lips find my ear.

“Promise?” he asked, dead serious. His breath makes me shiver and I breath out slowly through my nose. “Promise me that that’s all you had, Wren. Do not lie to me.”

“I promise, John.” I whispered in shame. He knew, god he knew. I was usually good, drinking only in moderation and at social events. I was so careful. But he knew, in this moment, that I had no intention of stopping. I was so swept up in the hurt, in the insecurity and anxiety, that I hadn’t realized how quickly I was falling down the rabbit hole. I make a sound at the back of my throat, and I feel my armor began to fall, disintegrating into nothing as I’m fighting the tears that are coming back.

He doesn’t give me the opportunity to cry. His lips find the junction of my neck and I sigh. Rowan wouldn’t have taken that step, pouring everything I had down the sink. That just wasn’t how she was. She would have lectured, sure. Express disappointment? Absolutely. John wasn’t like that. John was bold, unafraid of anything that ever came his way. I let out a shaky breath as he pulled away, his hand leaving my neck as his finger gently turned my chin. His lips found mine and I couldn’t think.

How long had we skirted around this? How many times had we came this close, but never crossed the line? The stolen glances, the shameless flirting. The way he held me the night I was almost shot in the alley, and yet neither of us were willing to take it further. I could almost laugh, because I had thought for so long it was just me. I was crushing on someone way out of my league. I had believed the words that woman had said. And suddenly, I remembered exactly why I was in this situation. I’m his fiancée.

He pulled away as the tears fell, and I looked away from him. He wasn’t having it. Gripping the front of my robe, he jerks me around. It takes only a few seconds for him to see, and without missing a beat, his hands are on my thighs. He sets me up on the counter as a sob successfully, finally, escapes my lips. His hands cradle my face as his thumbs wipe the tears away. His eyes are soft and they’re pulling me in, a tug on my seams as I become undone. I tore my gaze away, trying to hide everything I was feeling.

“Look at me.” He whispers, his face close enough that I can feel his breath. I looked back, fear and hurt all over my face. “Listen to me and listen very closely. You are enough. Do you hear me? Wren, you are enough.”

“Enough for you?” I croaked as I cried. My hands twisted as the clung to his white button up shirt. I was creating wrinkles, but neither of us cared. His brow furrowed and his jaw ticked.

“Enough for me? God Wren, who gives a shit about me?” He gently pokes my chest, against my beating heart. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I think or what anyone else thinks for that matter. Anyone.” He sneered as a dark look swirled in his cerulean orbs. “All that matters, is that you’re enough for you. You matter, Wren. You come first.”

“But that woman said—”

“That woman is nothing. Her opinion is nothing. She will never touch you, or get close to you, do you understand? She’s a liar and a manipulator. A child throwing a tantrum for not getting what she wants.”

I shook my head, my insecurities still whispering doubts. “She’s so pretty, John. She’s so thin, and I’m nothing like her. I’m not like her.” I sobbed.

He chuckled, a soft smile gracing his lips and showing off his perfect teeth. The light gave him a heavenly glow, yellow highlighting his features that made him look warm. “No, you’re not. You’re nothing like her, Wren. But that’s one of the biggest things I love about you.” He gently pressed his thumb against my lips, helping silence my sobs as I hung onto every word. “Shhh. Don’t cry, darling. Do you not see? Do you not understand just how beautiful you are, inside and out? Do you not know what it is you do to me?”

“John—” I gasped, but he presses his lips softly against mine before pulling back.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? I’ve thought of little else since I’ve first laid eyes on you.” He whispers. “I get to watch you, Wren. I get to watch you every night when you perform, and I want nothing more than to devour you, to have you all to myself.” He tugged the robe loose, making it fall open and his eyes travelled down. My skin heated immediately from his attention, his finger returning to my chest as it teasingly traced the top of my breast. “I waited, bidding my time for the perfect moment. It never seemed to come, though, and I had to watch as that idiot detective circled you. But I protected you when you needed, listened to you when you needed the shoulder to cry on. I wanted you, craved you, but needed you to be happy, to be ready and unafraid. I wanted to take my time with you, but I can’t keep my fucking hands off you.”

I laughed and his smile broadened as he leaned back. “So…you’re not engaged?”

He scoffed. “Hell no. We used to be, but that was years ago. She’s nothing to me.” He placed a light kiss on my nose, before going for my lips, but I stopped him. He gave me a look and I smirked.

“Did you break into my apartment?” I asked, my brow raising, and he gave me a smirk in return.

“Oh darling, I plead the fifth.”

“So, that’s a yes.”

“It is not. Need I remind you that I’m innocent until proven guilty?” he asked, a breathless laugh escaping him. He gave me a mischievous smirk, something dancing in his eyes that made my lower abdomen pull as I bit my lip. “I heard about what happened, Whitney told Rowan and I everything. Rowan was enraged, I believe she may or may not have taken a swing at our unwanted guest. I didn’t stay though, I needed to check on my girl.” He tilted my chin up gently, his lips brushing mine lightly. “And you are my girl, aren’t you darling?”

“Yes, John. I’m yours.” I breathed out and his lips crashed against mine once more. Everything forgotten as a sense of relief settled over me. My heart swelled as his hands caressed lovingly against my skin, holding me, and driving the last of my inner demons into the shadows as I fell into his sweet embrace.

[beybladeimagines]

Your writing is sooo good! :o have been following you for a short while now and you do the requests so perfectly! Was wondering if it would be possible to get some family related headcanons for the blade breakers? Like your thoughts on how they interact with their families? Also congrats on the new job role! :)

Mod Note: Thank you so much, bby! I hope you’re doing well and are having an amazing start to your new year. :)

TYSON: Tyson has a very interesting relationship and take on his family. First things first, we have to acknowledge how his father and brother essentially left him behind and forced his grandfather to raise him. These are the ugly facts, but Tyson kind of…pushes that out of his mind. I imagine, in an attempt to cope with this abandonment, he decided to appropriate the narrative that he was exposed to. In other words, he told himself that sometimes people need to leave others behind if they’re going to achieve their dreams - but he always told himself that they’d come back, because… why wouldn’t they? He’s tried to convince himself that all of these things happened for a reason. Although Tyson attempts to be optimistic about his situation and claims it doesn’t affect him negatively, he has become rather clingy and takes people leaving him rather personally. He loves his grandfather and although Tyson travels a lot, he greatly encourages his grandfather to come see just about every match he’s in. And grandpa does just that… He goes to every match, watches it on TV, and thinks about his grandson often. He really worries about him. And although he loves his own son and Hiro unconditionally, he doesn’t want Tyson to pick up on the same habits as them.

When Tyson sees Hiro again, he’s elated in such a way that we’ve never seen before. We don’t see that much emotion when his own team comes back together. I think Tyson has always known that his friends would come back to him, but when it comes to family… He was probably deeply terrified that he’d never see them again. He holds Hiro to such a high standard and once saw him as someone who could do no wrong. After all, he returned to help him train and become world champion, right? Well… Hiro has some questionable ways of pushing Tyson. As an outsider, their interactions aren’t that healthy and are borderline manipulative. Tyson slowly begins to see this, but doesn’t allow himself to really showcase his disappointment. However, it does motivate him to become a better person and to not let his own team down. Think about it. Throughout G-Rev, we see Tyson’s selfishness and how he’s constantly trying to improve. And then Hiro comes along and is basically doing whatever he wants at Tyson’s expense. Tyson gets to see, first hand, just how much his own actions deeply hurt others. He doesn’t want to be like his brother anymore, or probably his own dad. He’s more likely to keep his grandfather close (even closer now, after all the bullshit) and see his own friends as family members.

MAX: In the manga, you really see just how much Max loves and misses his mom. He gets defensive about her picture, and often locks himself in his room to reflect upon his memories of her. You can tell it’s still a fresh wound and not one that he simply internalizes like Tyson. The sad truth is, she kinda left him behind as well to do her own thing. Additionally, she essentially formed a brand new team that consisted of children who’s only goal was to meet her expectations. Upon seeing this, Max honestly felt like he had to compete for his own mothers attention and approval, despite being her blood. Instead of being devastated by this blatant act of being replaced, Max actually continues to strive for her approval. He truly sees her as someone who can do no wrong and he probably interprets her actions as her motivating him to become stronger. It’s not that Judy doesn’t like her son… Rather, I think she’s so wrapped up in her work that she’s literally forgotten how to raise a child. Alternatively, maybe she just wasn’t ready, maybe she never knew how, maybe she placed that burden on Max’s dad because she was making good money for them. Regardless, something happened to make her so distant from her own child. She’s honestly surprised to see how persistent Max is for her affection. 

I do imagine that it does impact her. I do think she loves him, but has a very strange and arguably cold way of showing it. However, Max is literally sunshine incarnate. He refuses to see her as something to hate and is extremely grateful for what she’s been able to do for him. Max’s father is also seen in a positive light. In truth, Max is so amazed by how hard his dad worked to raise him, put food on the table, support his hobby, and help him travel. There’s no denying the amount of love Max has for his own dad, but I think he clings to his mom so much, because he just wants there to be both. He doesn’t want one parent working more or harder than the other. He just craves a sense of stability where everyone is just…happy and here and eating at the same table without worrying about research or making deadlines. Although he gets along great with both folks, it’s evident that the dynamic does take a toll on him, but he thinks he has to keep smiling in order for everything to seem like its really okay.

RAY: We don’t know that much about his family, except for the uncle in France. However, we do know that he spent much of his childhood with his friends moreso than any blood relatives. I imagine Ray didn’t have much of a connection with his family. As a child, he’s somewhat of a wild one. He often goes where he pleases, does what he pleases, and most likely sneaks out just to see his friends for a little longer. Perhaps his parents just weren’t there, or maybe they didn’t approve of his newfound fascination for blading. When we find out that Ray left the White Tigers, we have to realize that this also means he left his entire village behind too (including his own home and family). And it was…relatively easy. I imagine he suspected he’d come across his team again, but he probably wasn’t too concerned with what his family thought. They probably thought he was reckless or maybe didn’t apply the same amount of significance to Driger. I’m not trying to imply that his family didn’t love him; rather, I think their ideas of success and genuine goals just clashed. Ray’s family most likely came to peace with his departure as years progressed. They’re probably mindful of his success, but do their best not to speak of it. Perhaps its out of embarrassment (like, they feel ashamed for not having more faith) or maybe they just don’t want to think about their son leaving them.

When Ray returns, I imagine the reunion is rather intense. Although his friends are the first to greet him, I suspect he came across his parents during the evening. They exchange moments of silence, but I envision his mother breaking down and wrapping her arms around Ray out of relief. This is probably one of the first times that his parents were vulnerable around him. Ray doesn’t really know how to feel, but he returns the hug anyway. A weight practically leaves him when they have this moment. Like they finally get it, like he doesn’t have to explain himself. I imagine they’re working on restoring a sense of normalcy amongst one another, but Ray’s actually really excited about having even more supportive forces in his life.

KAI: Kai actually…really fucking loves his family. I’ve only ever seen him smile when he was around them. Granted, there is a rather complicated and traumatic past concerning the relatives in his life. Kai wants nothing to do with his grandfather, although he appreciates the expensive opportunities and power that he gave him. Despite these “gifts,” Kai just wants to take everything from Voltaire, replace him, and show him how better off he is without his manipulative meddling. Kai is also in the process of rebuilding his connection with his father and seeing him in a better light. For so long, Kai thought that his father chose his dream over him, but this became another manipulated narrative spun by his own grandfather. Later on, Kai realized that his father just didn’t want to be like Voltaire and chose to follow his own path, which he hoped Kai would eventually do as well. Kai realizes the genuine intentions his father had and how he also wanted the best for him (and not just a bunch of random kids). 

When it comes to his mother, I imagine Kai is extremely close with her. She was really trying her best to keep things stable in the house and give Kai the love he so desperately needed. I see him rejecting her efforts at first. He was probably worried that she’d leave him too. But she probably spent so many sleepless nights waiting up for him when he’d sneak out and making sure he had enough to eat. There were many times when she thought he’d never come home. She practically sunk to the floor with relief every time she cracked his bedroom door open and saw him there sleeping. Now that his family is back together and his life isn’t based off a series of lies, Kai actually looks forward to coming home. He’s rather quiet and actually avoids his parents gaze, especially at the dinner table. It’s when he’s with family that he realizes just how much crazy shit he’s done or gotten into - so he feels ashamed. His parents only look at him with complete pride and admiration. I imagine they hug him so tightly the moment he walks through the door and he’s got to fight back so many tears because damn… He feels the love and attention he’s been so desperately craving.

[jaxl-road]

Suffocate

This is a sequel to Shiver//Shake, and I def recommend reading that one first so this one makes more sense lol

Summary: Tommy and Nikki are together, but the secrecy is wearing on Tommy. And a lot of things are wearing on Nikki.

Warnings: None, but let me know if I missed anything

~~~

On God, Tommy couldn’t believe his plan had actually worked.

To be fair, at first it had been spectacularly not working. And honestly, he hadn’t even been thinking long-term when he felt a light bulb in his brain and offered his bed to keep Nikki warm- he just wanted to greedily get a little closer to the bassist, and if he could keep the other man warm at the same time, well, win-win. 

But every single night Nikki wound up colder and farther away. At the time, Tommy couldn’t fathom why Nikki kept agreeing to come back. 

Then Nikki started shaking.

Tommy’s heart broke a little as he watched the bassist struggle to breathe, trembling viciously, trying to hide, trying to run. In that moment, Tommy had been certain he had ruined everything. He had obviously overstepped and freaked Nikki out with his underhanded attempts at closeness. Maybe it was karma for his deception, but that didn’t feel fair because Nikki was the one hurting. 

He had been fully prepared to apologize, leave, and walk directly into the ocean when Nikki kissed him. Nikki kissed him. It felt like his brain shorted out and he was more than a little convinced that this was a very vivid fever dream, because there was no way, there was just no way the beautiful, talented, amazing man beneath him was kissing him. 

But he was and Tommy felt like he was in heaven, pulling this dark angel closer and kissing him again and again for the rest of the night until he fell asleep with his lips still on his skin.

When he opens his eyes hours later, Nikki is already awake. Or maybe still awake, Tommy can never quite tell.He is lazily stroking patterns onto Tommy’s collarbone, fingers brushing softly against his skin in a way that makes the drummer’s heart beat just a little faster.

“Morning.”

His voice is soft, but Nikki pulls his hand back abruptly, green eyes darting up to meet his with a shaky smile, “Hi, morning, hi. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Tommy chuckled, and pulled him closer, burying his nose in messy black locks. Their chests pressed together, he could feel the slight hitch in Nikki’s breath, “Nah, you’re good. Besides, even if you had, I’d probably deserve it considering how many times I woke you up the last few days.

Nikki laughed, and he relaxed a bit more in Tommy embrace, “Oh shit, I didn’t think of that. Tomorrow I’m definitely putting a cockroach on your face.”

“Fuck, I’m pretty sure they’d hear me screaming down at the Whiskey!” Tommy shuddered at the thought. He could only handle bugs when they were on the other end of a flamethrower, “Come on, forgive me? I was good last night, right?” He grinned mischievously at the way Nikki’s cheeks tinged red.

Scoffing, the bassist shoved at his chest lightly, “Not that good, asshole.”

“True, the fact that you woke up before me means I’m not trying hard enough,” A look of exaggerated offense paints Nikki’s face, but before he can respond, Tommy is darting forward to kiss him.

Kissing Nikki is different during the day than it was at night. In the dark, despite Tommy’s elation, despite the joy and wonder and sheer love coursing through his veins, part of it didn’t feel real. Like if he let go of Nikki he would have never been there. Like he was always just a blink away from waking up and finding out it was all a dream.

But now, with the first rays of light starting to drift through the window, he can see every shade in Nikki’s green eyes when they widen in surprise. He can see the way Nikki leans towards him, chasing after him when he pulls back to breathe. He can see the tremor in Nikki’s smile, little pinpricks of disbelief escaping from behind the bliss.

Tommy giggled, “Fuck, you’re cute.”

“Shut up, I have a reputation.”

“You’re the cutest badass.”

 “Fuck off.”

“But it’s true!”

“I’m going to shave your head in the middle of the night.”

“That won’t make it less true,” he laughed as Nikki glared half-heartedly. God, Tommy loved this boy. Stealing one last kiss, he reluctantly disentangled himself, sitting up to stretch his arms over his head, “Hm, I need coffee or something.”

“Trust me, you never need caffeine,” Nikki smirked as Tommy shoved his arm playfully.

“Whatever, let’s see if this trash heap has any fucking food in it today,” standing, the drummer can’t help but smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so chipper to start the day. But then, he’s never had Nikki to start the day with. 

He’s only taken a few steps though when Nikki’s hand circles his wrist, tugging him to a stop, “Can we…” his eyes dart around the room as he hesitates, “Can we not… tell Mick and Vince about…. this… just yet?”

Tommy frowned, “Why? They won’t care, dude. And if they do I’ll fight them. Or something,” he smiles, and Nikki chuckles lightly, but he doesn’t relax.

“I know, I know. I just…” He keeps pausing, keeps stalling, and it’s strange to see the bassist so uncertain. So unsteady. Like the aftershocks of the panic that shook him the night before. “Just for a little bit? Just for a little while, can this just be… ours?”

In all honesty, Tommy didn’t get it. He was never one for keeping secrets, especially when it came to his feelings for people. But this is important to Nikki, and Nikki is important to him. Besides, he figures, it’s not an unreasonable request.

So the drummer smiled, leaning forward to peck the other man on the lips, “Sure man, we’ll keep it to ourselves for now. No biggie.”

Nikki sighs softly in relief and the tension starts to bleed out of him, “Thank you.”

As Tommy entwined their fingers, pulling the bassist out of the bedroom, there’s a thought like a whisper in the back of his head.

He’s beautiful when he’s not afraid.

~

The morning continues like normal, but better. Tommy still makes Nikki wait until noon to start drinking, Nikki still reads the ingredient list on a bag of Doritos and tries to argue why it totally counts as a balanced breakfast, and Tommy still eats cereal by the handful straight from the box.

But now when Nikki drops onto the couch, Tommy drops right on top of him, stretching out to cover his body and kiss him and they both laugh and make faces because cool ranch and sugar cereal is not the best mix of flavors but they keep kissing anyway. 

Time creeps forward, and soon it’s almost time for Mick and Vince to arrive for rehearsal. Tommy had every intention of kissing Nikki until the second the band walked through the door, but the bassist pulled away.

“Dude, they’re gonna be here any minute!”

“Yeah, so I get at least one more minute of you,” Tommy smirked.

Nikki rolled his eyes pushing the drummer gently, “You’re insatiable. Go set up your drums, fucker!” He laughed when Tommy pouted dramatically. Reluctantly, the drummer went and sat by his equipment while Nikki tuned his bass.

A few minutes later (a few minutes of lost kisses, Tommy thought bitterly) Mick arrived, walking in unceremoniously with a nod in the boys’ direction. This was directly contrasted five minutes later when Vince burst in, throwing the door open and spreading his arms dramatically, “Sup, bitches! You ready to rock?”

“We’ve literally just been waiting on you, blondie,” Mick deadpanned.

“You can’t rush perfection!”

“I can and I will, now get your ass in place,” Nikki dragged the singer over, shoving a handful of lyrics into his hands as Vince laughed. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent playing and practicing, each song polishing the four musicians into a real band. Tommy always loved these hours- he loved the music, but he loved the people even more. Watching Mick let loose and rock out passionately, and Vince dancing around the room, and Nikki grinning widely with his hair flying around his face. They bickered and teased and threw insults like breathing, but they always laughed, and when they finally called an end to practice they always stuck around to just hang out together.

“We gotta start looking for a venue, we’ve almost got a full set down!” Nikki opened his beer enthusiastically, practically throwing the bottle cap in his excitement. 

“Ooooh, we should start planning our outfits,” Vince grinned, “If we want to make a statement, we gotta do it right!”

“Please, we all know you’re gonna raid your girlfriend’s closet the day before,” Mick raised an eyebrow, but his lips twitched towards a smile.

Tommy laughed, “Dude, you have to admit, girl jeans are just better,” he dropped onto the couch between Nikki and Mick, throwing an arm around the bassist’s shoulders. He didn’t think anything of it. Until he felt Nikki tense next to him. 

His smile fell, just slightly, and when he looked at Nikki out of the corner of his eye, he could see him clutching his beer, knuckles almost white and a plastic smile on his face. He doesn’t pull away though. Tommy turns back to the others, not wanting to draw any attention to the other man, but inside he was just confused. He wasn’t doing anything blatant, or unusual. They were the terror twins- they were always close and affectionate. Hell, they had probably sat together in this position a hundred times before. If anything it’d be more suspicious if they didn’t hang all over each other.

Nikki eased up a bit over time, but for the rest of the night Tommy couldn’t help but feel like he was being more… deliberate. Like he was planning everything out in his head before moving or speaking or laughing. Like he was carefully calculating exactly where to be so he wasn’t too close or too distant from the drummer.

Tommy felt exhausted for him.

Eventually, when all four reached a level of pleasantly buzzed, Mick left with a casual wave, and Nikki turned to Vince, “You going back to your girlfriend’s place?”

“Oh,” Vince’s eyes widened, even as he tried to speak with an air of dismissiveness, “nah, we decided it wasn’t really working out and-”

“She dumped your ass, didn’t she.”

“Wha- she did not! If anything, I dumped her.”

“Suuuure you did,” Nikki laughed, Tommy snorting next to him.

Vince huffed, “We just decided we needed a little space, that’s all. She’ll be back in no time.”

Elbowing Nikki gently, Tommy grinned mischievously, “Hey Nik, you think Vince wants to get in her pants or just wear her pants?”

“Good point,” he snickered, “Better start groveling now, Vinnie, if you want her outfit for our first show.”

The two friends laughed as Vince threw one of the couch pillows at them, “Oh, screw you guys!” He couldn’t hide his smile though, “You’re just jealous ‘cause I get pussy and free clothes.”

“True, I wish I was short enough to share my girlfriend’s clothes.”

“Okay, FUCK YOU!” jumping from his seat, Vince lunged at Nikki, who immediately leapt up and darted away, laughing maniacally as the singer chased him around the living room, jumping over the coffee table and knocking over empty bottles. Eventually, Vince got him in a headlock, both of them out of breath and laughing, “You motherfucker, I’m gonna light your fucking hair on fire!”

“Hey! You’re only allowed to light me on fire on stage!” Nikki fired back.

“Nobody is lighting anybody on fire!” Tommy declared, standing to pull the two apart as he giggled.

“Unless it’s on stage!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“… I’m not saying yes, but we can discuss it,” Tommy relented, Nikki and Vince high-fiving each other in victory.

Exhausted and buzzed, Vince stretched dramatically before retreating to his room for the night. As much as Tommy loved the blonde, he couldn’t help but bounce on his toes in excitement at having Nikki all to himself again.

Which was why he pouted like a child when Nikki started heading to his own room, “Hey, hey, hey! Where are you going? My room’s this way!”

Nikki stopped abruptly, turning to look at Tommy in surprise, “Oh, I…I was just…” he jerks his thumb towards his room, lowering his voice a bit, “I mean, since Vince is back…”

“So?” Tommy grinned mischievously, “One, neither of us are busty chicks, so Vince barely pays attention to us anyway,” Nikki snorted, tilting his head with a wry smile of agreement. Smirking, the drummer continued, “Two, he’s always the first one to bed and the last one up so he’d probably never even notice,” he received a hum of acknowledgement, “And three,” he stretched the word out as he sauntered up to the bassist, “we’re just keeping warm in our shitty, cold apartment, right? Just sharing body heat. Nothing weird there. Definitely nothing happening in that bed other than keeping you from freezing to death. So nothing for Vince to think twice about.”

He wraps his arms loosely around Nikki’s neck, grinning down at him. The bassist still seems hesitant, and he opens his mouth as if to object…

…But then his teeth click shut, and he gives a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “You make a solid argument, T-Bone.”

Tommy burst into a wide smile, too happy to dwell on any subtleties hiding in the other boy’s expression,  “You’re damn right I do,” he tugged him forward back towards his own room, and Nikki followed easily.

Though he never seemed to fully relax that night.

~

Weeks pass like a roller coaster. Up and down and up and down.

It’s up when Motley Crue has their first show, and after the unexpected brawl got broken up, they actually had a pretty decent set. After that, they were performing at least once a week, and the crowd got bigger each time, cheering and dancing and screaming for an encore. It was exhilarating, and so much fun, and all of them were practically giddy with excitement. 

Well. Almost.

It’s down because Nikki was happy, of course he was. But he was also terrified. Tommy could see it in the way he obsessed over their songs, tearing out pages and writing and rewriting and practicing on his own until Tommy found him plucking at his bass with bloody fingers. 

“I just don’t want to fuck this up,” he mumbled as the drummer pulled the bass away from him, “I’m fine, it’s fine, I just don’t want to fuck up.”

Tommy didn’t know what to say. So he settled for guiding Nikki to bed and stroking his hair until they both fell asleep. 

And it’s up, because God, Tommy loved him so much. He waited all day just for these moments where he could wrap Nikki in his arms, kiss every inch of his face, touch him, feel him, make him smile in the dark. He wouldn’t lie, it was hard at times, keeping it a secret. The drummer wanted nothing more than to shout his love for Nikki from the rooftops, to hold him close and kiss his hair and his cheek and his mouth at every opportunity. He wanted to brag to anyone who would listen and anyone who wouldn’t about how Nikki was his.

If Nikki wanted to keep things low-key for a bit though, Tommy could handle it. It was fine. 

But it also wasn’t. It was down, down, down, because the more time passed, the more Nikki felt like plastic under his hands. At first he could never seem to relax when they were around the others, but now even when they’re alone he can feel Nikki weighing every action in his head. Planning and scripting, everything deliberate, conscious, stiff. After a few weeks it starts to feel like he’s sleeping with a mannequin- like he could move Nikki however he wanted, place him like a doll, turn him this way and that, and he’d comply without a word. 

Was Nikki even happy with him?

A shudder ran through him at the thought. He loved the bassist so Goddamn much, and he didn’t want to be insecure about them- after all, Nikki had kissed him, that had to mean something, right? But at the same time, he wondered if all the secrecy was because he was in this deeper than Nikki. Maybe the other man regretted it, or had only wanted something physical and not emotional, or realized he was embarrassed by Tommy or something. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and he wasn’t sure if it made him want to punch a wall, or cry, or drink until he died.

He was well on his way to the last option that night, almost three weeks since he and Nikki had gotten together. Motley Crue had killed another show, fans practically throwing themselves at them, and the four band members had decided to celebrate with a night at the strip club.

To be honest though, Tommy was tired. He was frustrated, and lovesick, and just wanted to curl up with Nikki who didn’t want to curl up with him. But he couldn’t express any of that, not with all the fucking secrets, so instead he snorted some coke, did too many shots, snorted some more coke, and sat right next to the main stage with Vince while Nikki and Mick relaxed at the bar across the room.

It helped a little, he supposed. The bright lights and loud music are a welcome distraction from his thoughts, and the drugs are starting to kick in, making him laugh a little easier. He’s got that hazy feeling in his peripheral vision when one of the dancers comes over and sets herself on his lap. He blinks a little in surprise, looking up at her plastic smile as she rolls her body against his. For a moment he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and it’s almost funny, how quickly he forgot about other bodies beyond Nikki’s. Turning his head, he glances over at where the bassist is sitting with Mick. Nikki is already looking at him.

The room is swaying slightly, back and forth like a boat at sea, and it makes it hard to figure out what emotion he’s seeing on Nikki’s face. The stripper in his lap puts her hands on Tommy’s neck and he figures Nikki is probably just jealous.

And that thought pisses him off.

How dare he feel jealous. Tommy would gladly trade the stripper for Nikki- would so much rather have the bassist sitting in his lap pressing closer and closer. But he said no. He’s the one who pulled away anytime there was a possibility of being caught. He’s the one who couldn’t bear to be seen with Tommy. He’s the one who insisted on keeping Tommy his dirty little secret. Nikki wasn’t allowed to be jealous.

Putting his hands on the stripper’s waist, Tommy pulled her closer. If Nikki didn’t want anyone to know, well then, Tommy better keep up appearances.

He’s not really feeling it, but he plays up the lap dance anyway. Pettiness drives him to exaggerate his lust, performing just as much as the woman in his lap for the man he knew was watching.

When the dance is over, the stripper takes her tips and hurries off. In hindsight Tommy realizes he must have gotten a little too handsy, but he can’t bring himself to care, downing another shot instead. He is getting ready to flag down another dancer when he feels a hand on his shoulder. The room spins when he turns around, and he sways in his seat. He might have fallen over if it weren’t for the hand holding him firmly. When his vision clears, Nikki is looking down at him, body stiff and face expressionless even as he tries to smile like he knows he’s expected to.

“Woah, steady there, T-Bone. How much have you had, dude?”

“Not nearly enough,” Tommy stood up abruptly, shaking Nikki’s hand off even as he stumbled over his own feet. He gets a few steps before the bassist is at his side again, hands out to help his shaky movements.

“Seriously man, you seem pretty wasted. I was just gonna let you know I was heading out, but maybe you should come with…” he trailed off questioningly, and Tommy felt his anger spike.

Fuck this.

“No,” he pushed Nikki back a few steps, swaying on his feet at the motion, “I think I want to stay. Haven’t gotten my fill just yet, and there’s still plenty of girls who wouldn’t mind being seen with me,” the words sound distant to his own ears, but the harsh sarcasm bites through the haze of alcohol.

Nikki pauses, and then narrowed his eyes. Even piss drunk as he was Tommy could practically feel the temperature drop, “I don’t know if you have enough cash for anyone to want to be seen with you right now,“ his voice is cold and sharp, “so maybe you’re better off going home and sleeping this off.”

Tommy feels the rage swell, mixed with something like hurt, or sorrow, or both, “You seem upset, babe,” he spits the word out and Nikki flinches back, eyes widening in surprise, “What’s the matter? I do something wrong? Am I only allowed to pay attention to you when it suits you?”

Even through his fury, Nikki’s eyes dart around nervously, “Shut the fuck up, Tom-”

“Why?” The drummer cut him off angrily, “I’m just shooting the shit with my friend, right? Unless there’s something you’d like to share with the class,” he spread his arm to gesture to the room, drawing a few glances.

There is a moment of standstill, where Nikki looks at him wide-eyed and hurt. But then his whole face steels, and when Nikki opens his mouth he could practically see the bassist sharpening the blade. When he speaks, it sounds like a hiss, “Keep this up and there won’t be anything to share.”

Deep down, the sober part of Tommy feels a little bit gutted. As Nikki starts to walk away, that feeling crawls through the layers of alcohol and cocaine and insecurity, and by the time it reaches the surface it has morphed into desperate, frantic rage.

“Don’t walk away from me!” He snaps, grabbing Nikki’s wrist and jerking him back.

His grip is firm, even as the other boy tugs his arm to try to escape, snarling, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

But Tommy holds tight, “You were the one who wanted this! You started this thing, so you don’t get to just pick and choose when you want me around!”

“Back off, T-Bone,” Nikki is tense, still trying to pull his arm free while Tommy gets more worked up.

“Oh, so now you don’t want me around? A minute ago you wanted my attention- What, you can’t make up your mind, baby?”

Nikki flinched again, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, “I’m fucking serious, Tommy, let go!”

It infuriated Tommy, and without even thinking, he heard himself snap out, “You’ll crawl into my bed but you can’t handle a fucking pet name?”

“Alright! Hey! Take a step back, drummer!” Mick was suddenly between them, breaking Tommy’s hold on Nikki and pushing the teen back. He plants himself in front of the drummer, putting space between them. Separating the terror twins.

Later, Mick would reveal that he had no idea what the fuck the two kids were even fighting about- the loud music and hollering of the club patrons drowning out their words- but he saw Nikki with a look on his face like he was two seconds from tearing the drummer apart with his bare hands and figured he should step in.

As soon as he was released, Nikki stumbled away, clutching his wrist to his chest and staring at Tommy with wide eyes, wrathful and terrified. He speaks on an exhale, soft and breathy, “Fuck you, Tom.”

Mick’s hand is still on his chest, and Nikki is backing away, all teeth and snarl and cold, cold, cold, like ice water over Tommy’s head and the last ten minutes slam into him all at once and he feels suddenly sober, sees the man he loves getting farther away, getting covered by the crowd, and he thinks about how often Nikki calls himself a runaway.

“Wait,” his voice starts as a whisper, rapidly growing in volume and desperation, “wait wait wait-!”

“Go to Hell!”

With that, Nikki breaks eye contact, finally turning around and running. And then he’s gone.

Tommy thinks he might cry. “Fuck,” his voice cracks on the word.

In front of him, Mick still blocks his way, hand up to discourage him when he starts to move forward, “Easy, drummer, just let him cool off-”

“No, Mick, I need to go now, I fucked up, I-”

“Give him some time and then-”

“No! I need to go now! What if he-!”

“Can you guys please not get us kicked out of the best strip joint in town?”

Vince’s voice cut through the noise, sliding smoothly over to his struggling bandmates with a look that was a cross between annoyance and concern. 

Mick sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Nikki took off, go find him.”

“What? Why do I have to babysit the bassist?”

“Would you rather babysit the drummer?”

“Yeah I’m going,” the singer had barely glanced at Tommy’s tearfilled eyes before turning on his heel and taking off in the direction Mick had pointed. 

“Mick, you don’t understand, I fucked up, I fucked up so bad,” and goddammit, Tommy was actually crying in a strip club. How had he been so angry not ten minutes ago? Where had that rage gone? He couldn’t find any of it now- only sorrow and regret.

He rubbed at his eyes furiously as Mick guided him to an open stool at the bar. And maybe Tommy was still drunk, and high, and falling apart, but the gruff guitarist seemed to soften, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, “I’m sure you did. But just let the kid calm down a bit, and clear your own head. Unfortunately for the rest of us, I doubt there’s anything that could keep you two apart for too long.”

God, Tommy hopes that’s true. Because something is wrong- there is something disconnected in their relationship and he hates it. He hates the hesitation that has held Nikki in a vice grip every since they woke up that first morning. He hates how Nikki looks cornered the moment he enters a room. He hates the stiffness, the stutters, the silvery thread of fear in Nikki’s every motion.

It feels like those first few days of sleeping in the same bed- Tommy wanting nothing more than to make it better and only ever making it worse.

He hates it. But hating it won’t fix it.

He and Nikki will have to do that together.

~

Once he’s sober and calm enough to walk without puking, Mick helps Tommy back to the apartment. He gets him to the front door before booking it, grumbling about not wanting to deal with anymore drama than he already has. He needn’t have worried though, because when Tommy opened the door, the apartment was dark and quiet. 

Walking down the hall to the bedrooms, he starts when Vince opens his door suddenly, “I thought I heard someone shuffling sadly,” he leaned against the doorway, offering a small smile to the drummer. 

When Tommy only shrugged in response, he sighed, “Well, I stopped Nikki from skipping town at least, but the rest is your problem. I’m getting the Hell outta dodge first thing in the morning in case you guys wanted to throw shit or… something,” he waved a hand dismissively as he turned back into his room, “So, yeah. Good luck, dude. I’m rooting for you.”

He closes the door before Tommy can burst into tears again. Because he wonders if Vince should be rooting for him. Was he even any good for Nikki? Just a lovesick kid who let his temper get the best of him, who kept pushing away the person he said he loved. He wanted Nikki to be happy. But if he was honest with himself, more than that he wanted Nikki to be happy with him. He felt so selfish.

The door to Nikki’s room was closed, hiding its occupant for the first time in weeks. It takes him a moment to work up the courage, but eventually he manages a few hesitant knocks.

There’s no response.

He knocks again, leaning his head against the wood and closing his eyes, “Nikki?” His voice is soft and scared, and all he gets is silence. He keeps talking anyway, “Nikki, I…” swallowing thickly, he steels himself, “I’m sorry, Nikki. I’m so, so, sorry. I was just so frustrated with all the secrecy and-…” He shook his head to himself, “Wait, fuck, I don’t want to make excuses. You didn’t deserve any of that, and I’m so fucking sorry and please,” it takes effort to not make a sound when a few more tears escape, “please don’t give up on us yet.”

Tommy waits, and waits, and waits. But he never gets a reply. Eventually, he forces himself to back away, “Okay. We… we can talk tomorrow, okay?” As he turns to his own room, he makes sure his voice is loud enough to be heard through the door, “I love you, Nik.”

His room is too quiet. His bed is too big. His arms are too empty.

Sleep comes slow that night.

~

When Tommy wakes up, he has a raging hangover, and Nikki is sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Tommy bolts upright immediately, head pounding and room spinning slightly at the motion. Nikki stiffens a bit at the movement, but otherwise stays still, his back facing the drummer, head hung low and hands clutching the mattress. For a terrifying moment, Tommy has no idea who he is speaking to- his boyfriend, or his friend, or his band mate, or none of the above.

“Nikki-”

“You can tell them,” the bassist’s voice is quiet, but not soft. It is flat, dull, tired. He doesn’t turn around as he speaks, dark hair hiding what little of his face Tommy might have been able to see, “Mick, and Vince, and… fuck, whoever you want. Tell anyone, tell everyone, make fliers, fuck me on stage, whatever. Do whatever you want. I don’t fucking care.”

Even facing away, even in the dark, Tommy could tell that Nikki absolutely fucking cared.

He wants to hold him, but he knows he can’t yet. So instead, he takes a deep breath and starts untangling his thoughts, “We should have talked about it, dude. You asked, and I said yeah but like, we should have actually discussed it.”

Nikki breathes sharply through his nose, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-” Tommy gestures vaguely, but Nikki still won’t look at him. Gathering up all his courage, he tells the truth, “I want to tell people because it’s hard to contain how I feel about you. Like, shit, I’m so fucking head over heels it takes physical effort not to blurt out how much I love you to anyone who looks our way, y’know?” Nikki’s head tilts just the slightest bit towards him, listening quietly. So Tommy continues, spitting out everything he’s been holding in, “I’ve got these feelings that I want to share with everyone, so I guess that… when you kept wanting to keep everything a secret, I just, I dunno, started to assume it was because you didn’t feel the same way, or were embarrassed by me or something.”

“That’s not it,” Nikki’s voice is breathy, and rushed, and honest. He shakes his head vehemently, desperate for Tommy to believe him, “I swear, that’s not it at all.”

Tommy wishes so badly that the other man would look at him. All he sees is the tremors down his hunched back, the hitch in his thin shoulders, hands clenched tight, leg bouncing rapidly. It’s so similar to the fear from the night they got together, and Tommy wants so badly to just stop scaring him.

“I know, Nik,” He says softly, “I get that now. But just… now you know. That’s why I want to tell them,” there is a pause before he continues, “Why don’t you want them to know?“

Nikki swallowed thickly before shaking his head slowly and mumbling, "It doesn’t matter.”

”Yes, it does,” Tommy stresses, hands gripping the blankets around him in a desperation to just make him understand, “You matter, Nikki, and so do your opinions and feelings and fucking everything in between. I don’t want you to just go along with something because it’s what I want.” 

Nikki’s head drops a little lower, “It’s stupid…” 

“No, it’s not. I promise you, it’s not,” Tommy wants so badly to reach over and turn his face so he can look into his eyes. But he doesn’t want to invade Nikki’s space. Not yet. He’s not ready yet. “I want to know what you’re feeling. Please?”

For a long minute, there is silence, Nikki’s back stiff and still as he wages a war in his head. When he finally speaks, his voice cracks just slightly, “I don’t want to jinx this.”

Tommy frowned, shifting just a little bit closer, “What does that mean?”

Nikki gripped the mattress tighter, knuckles white with anxiety, and he makes a noise that Tommy thinks is supposed to be a scoff but sounds like a sob, “I told you it was stupid,” he snarls, but Tommy has a sneaking suspicion it’s not him Nikki is mad at.

“Hey, hey, that’s not what I’m saying,” he keeps his voice gentle and soothing, “it’s not stupid. I just… want to understand better?” And it’s true. It’s so true. Tommy sits and prays because he just wants to understand.

Nikki’s leg is still bouncing up and down rapidly, arms shaking from the effort not to collapse, jaw tense as he tries to force the words out. As he tries to find the words at all.

“This whole… thing… we have… it just feels so… so fucking fragile. I feel like if I breathe too hard it’s all gonna crash around me like a fucking house of cards. And I’m trying not to be so damn, fucking… I don’t know, me, I guess, but I feel like the second we let Vince and Mick in on what we have going on will be the second you realize how fucked up it is that someone like you would settle for a piece of shit like me. And then I’ll have to deal with Vince and Mick making fun of me on top of trying to somehow piece myself back together after you ditch my ass and I don’t know if I could handle that.”

His voice cracks at the end, and he curls into himself a little more, and Tommy is pretty sure he’s going to start crying soon. This whole time he’d assumed that his feelings were obvious- that there was no way Nikki could possibly think he would ever leave him. He thinks back to the strip club the night before, to Nikki watching him get a lap dance, and he realizes Nikki wasn’t jealous at all. He was just sad.

“Nikki,” Tommy puts as much love and tenderness into the name as he can. He speaks it like the treasure it is, “Nikki. I want to be with you. You, exactly as you are. I’m not going to cut and run just because things get rough or we get in a fight or whatever. If shit comes up we’ll deal with it. Together.”

Finally, finally, finally, he allows himself to reach out, covering Nikki’s hand with his own. The bassist takes a shaky breath, slowly unclenching his hand. Tommy entwines their fingers together, stroking his thumb softly over his hand. Then, slowly, Nikki turns to look at him.

Tommy feels himself choke up at the sight of red rimmed eyes, black tracks of eyeliner running down pale cheeks with smudges where they had been half-heartedly wiped away. His lips quivers, and he only manages a moment of eye contact before looking down at their hands. He looks lost.

Maybe it’s too soon, but Tommy can’t help it. He scoots forward and pulls Nikki into his chest, wrapping his arms around him gently and resting his cheek against his hair.

He can feel the hitch in Nikki’s breath, “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers. He tucks himself deeper into Tommy’s hold and then, even softer, “but I don’t know how to be someone you want, either.”

“I already want you,” Tommy holds him tighter, leaves no room for argument, “Fuck, Nik, I’ve wanted you since the day we met. We can disagree, or get in a fight, or be mad at each other, or whatever bullshit and I will still want you.”

A soft sob escapes the bassist as he hesitantly reaches up to wrap his arms around the drummer, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. Even as he tries to stay quiet, Tommy can feel growing dampness on his shirt, and he rocks them both gently as he cups the back of Nikki’s head.

“Relax,” he breathes, “Just relax.”

And then, after one last moment of hesitation, he does. 

It feels like a wire snapping, the way Nikki sucks in a breath and just sags in his arms, melting against him. All the tension that’s held him rigid for the past three weeks releases, and he gasps deeply, and Tommy wonders if he’s been holding his breath since that first morning they woke up together. He holds him as he catches his breath.

When they finally lay down, still tangled in each others’ arms, Tommy feels Nikki sigh against his collar bone. He rubs his hand up and down Nikki’s back, and smiles into his hair.

“I got you, dude. We’re a team- we’re in this together from now on, okay?”

Nodding slowly, Nikki replies softly, “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Closing his eyes, he huffs out something between a laugh and a sigh, “Fuck. I love you so fucking much.”

“I know,” Tommy pulls him even closer, “I love you too.”

~

It’s not always easy, but it’s better. 

Sometimes Nikki panics, and Tommy has to remind him to loosen up, to move, to breathe. But when he does, oh, he’s reminded why he fell in love with him in the first place.

He hadn’t even realized how much he missed his best friend until he got him back. After all those weeks of Nikki tip-toeing and tearing himself apart, Tommy could cry at the return of the terror twin he loved so much. Even as they continued to keep their relationship to themselves, Nikki was learning to relax when the band was together, leaning into Tommy’s touch, joking, laughing loud and free. He’s filling up his own body again after weeks of hollowing himself out.

Two weeks later, Tommy, Nikki, and Mick are backstage before another show. Mick is strumming lazily at his guitar while Nikki pesters Tommy to hold still so he can fix his damn eyeliner when the door burst open.

“Guys, guys, guys, guys GUYS!” Vince slid into the dressing room, hair flying around his face and practically jumping up and down, “You’re not gonna believe this!”

“I swear to God, if it’s got anything to do with tits, I’m going to strangle you,” Mick deadpanned.

Vince scoffed in offense, “No! This is legit, guys!” He leaned in conspiratorially, “We are officially, SOLD OUT!”

“No fucking way!” Nikki stood abruptly, excitement and disbelief on his face.

“Yes fucking way!” Vince exclaimed, “There is a line down the street that they’re turning away because we packed the fucking house!”

“No fucking way!” laughing gleefully, Tommy and Nikki whoop and holler, shouting expletives in their excitement as Mick shook his head slowly. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I think we’re actually a good fucking band,” Mick brought his hands to his hair, trying and failing to suppress a wide grin. The guitarist laughs as Vince, Tommy, and Nikki jump up and down. The four bandmates clap each other on the backs, and hug, and cheer at their success, and the energy gets higher and higher, and Nikki grabs Tommy’s shirt and pulls him into a deep kiss.

Tommy let out a soft noise of surprise, eyes widening for just a moment before grinning into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the other man to pull him impossibly closer. When they finally part they’re both laughing.

They’re so caught up in each other that they almost miss Vince groaning and reluctantly slapping a twenty dollar bill into Mick’s waiting palm, the guitarist smirking victoriously. 

“Oh, fuck you guys!” Nikki laughed, he and Tommy flipping the other two off in sync. 

“Mick, why don’t you hold me like that?” Vince pouted sarcastically.

“I’m not convinced your stupidity isn’t contagious,” Mick raised an eyebrow as Vince gasped dramatically.

Nikki laughed, and Tommy wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, resting his chin on the bassist’s shoulder as they watched their bandmates bicker. He could feel Nikki melt back into him even as he bounced on his toes in excitement and Tommy didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy in his entire life.

Eventually, Nikki pulled away, clapping his hands together, “Alright, alright, enough bitching!” He threw his arms around Vince and Mick, “We got a fucking show to do!”

“Hell yeah!” They grabbed their equipment, each taking one last glance in the mirrors to make any last adjustments to their hair or makeup before heading out to the stage, adrenaline high and triumph running through their veins.

As they exit the dressing room, Nikki grabs Tommy’s hand, grinning widely and eyes shining, “Let’s give ‘em what they came for, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” leaning in, he gave his boyfriend one last quick kiss. 

“Let’s rock the fucking house.”

[keeroo92]

Ooh, prompt time! “Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.” I'm just here imaging a dorky s/o trying to flirt with v but failing and her poor wingman, griffon whom is at this point ready to give up, When I read that. 😆

Heehee! What a cute one! Tried something a little different here, hope you enjoy!

____________

The first time he saw you, Griffon figured you’d be dead within the week. Some skinny broad with no experience in a fight? Puh-leeeze…

But three weeks later, you still drew breath. He had to give you credit for that.

Not much, though. After all, it was he and Shadow who kept you alive. Oh, and Nightmare. V might have something to do with it, too.

Regardless.

There you stood, chatting with Shakespeare as if the world wasn’t coming to an end. As if demons didn’t hunt your group every day and try to kill you. As if this was another ordinary morning.

He fluffed his feathers and kept his eyes locked on you and V. Something about your posture seemed off, like you were uncomfortable or in pain, but you had no injuries. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness.

Shakespeare smirked at something you said. Griffon cocked his head to the side, honing his attention to hear your response.

“Th- that’s not what I meant!”

What the hell?

Your eyes darted to the ground as you shifted your weight.

You gotta be shitting me.

“Apologies. What did you mean?”

He could hardly believe his yellow eyes as you became even more uncomfortable. A piece of him held an odd fascination with your reactions and the demonic bird found he couldn’t look away. Unfamiliar emotion swelled in his chest, a mix of hope and trepidation that didn’t belong to him.

Damnit, Shakespeare! I’m catching feelings from you again.

“I meant that- I was trying to say- Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that!”

What a pair of morons. I gotta see this shit.

Shimmering blue feathers caught wind as Griffon lifted off. He flapped closer, taking a streetlight as his new perch as he watched the display below. He couldn’t help but root for you and the poet after watching the two of you dance around each other all this time, both too bashful to admit your feelings.

Not to mention how annoying it was whenever Shakespeare got especially keen. It was torture to feel how badly the idiot wanted to kiss you, as if it were his own desire. The times he’d wanted to do more than kiss were downright traumatizing.

“Look at you like what?” V replied.

He can’t possibly be that clueless!

Yet he was, judging by the blatant confusion leaking through his bond with the idiot.  Griffon ruffled his feathers and clicked the prongs of his beak together, trying to cleanse himself of the poet’s feelings with limited success.

Honestly, the sooner they bone the happier I’ll be!

“I don’t know! Like that, you’re doing it right now!” you cried, throwing your hands up in frustration.

Griffon didn’t see what the big deal was. Shakespeare was smirking, sure, and his eyes looked a little funny, but so what? The whole situation was ridiculous; if either of you just said the damn words, his torment would end. He’d be free to ignore the poet’s more human impulses.

No more distractions or daydreams. No more urges, no more echoes of lust or need. No more wondering what your lips felt like, or how warm you’d be in his arms.

Gah! I don’t even have arms!

He couldn’t hold back any longer.

“OI! Idiots!” he cawed, spreading his wings to get your attention.

Two sets of accusing eyes stared at him and Griffon wondered if he should’ve planned his words a bit better. Oh well, too late now.

“If you two don’t hook up soon I’m gonna lose it!”

You bit your lip and turned away as V’s cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. Neither of you made a move, too embarrassed to even lock eyes. Griffon wanted to scream.

“You’re killing me, Shakespeare! I can’t stop feeling the shit you wanna do so just freaking do it already!”

A pulse of annoyed energy shot through Griffon and he lost the ability to stay solid. He became a cloud of black, his awareness fading as if he were looking at the world through a keyhole. Everything he had went to fighting it, desperate to yell at you and V until you both surrendered, but he was helpless against the pull of the man’s iron will.

Just as he sank into the poet’s skin, he glimpsed your shy glance at the black-clad man as you leaned just a tiny bit closer. A surge of elation rushed through him as V met you halfway, joy resonating through the bond as he faded into the background of the man’s mind.

That’s it, Shakespeare! Get some!

Griffon thrummed, mentally preening in self-satisfaction. The bond vibrated for a few moments, hints of what the poet was feeling ricocheting back to him until a barrier slammed down to divide them. He cawed in amusement, overjoyed at the silence.

Peace. At last.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 46

Chapter Summary - Tom comes home to see that Danielle has prepared for their guests, leading to the pair having a bit of fun in the shower before Benedict and Sophie arrive. SMUT

Previous Chapter 

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

So, according to Wikipedia, Tom lives in Belsize, a beautiful, leafy little area in North London, so I googled houses there and they seem to be in all shapes and sizes. Using that, I decided to make Tom have a beautiful, three-story townhouse, for no other reason than why not?

Oh, and Jeremy and Francis, as far as I am aware, are totally fictional.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“Elle!” Tom looked around the kitchen in shock. He had gone to meet with Luke regarding the BAFTA Tea Party the night before the Golden Globes and had arrived home with not long to go before their guests were arriving, to find Danielle’s day’s work in front of him.

“Is it okay?” she asked, walking back into the kitchen, having been out the back garden for some reason, a few stains on her t-shirt showing she had not gotten through the day unmarked as she usually joked, worried that what she had cooked and prepared were not suitable for Tom’s friends.

“Not…Elle, this is amazing, how did you do all of this?”

“So, I may have done the same as yesterday.” He frowned. “Only a couple hours of work, then cooking and cleaning.”

“Cooking and…darling,” Tom came over and wrapped his arms around her. “I cannot tell you how amazed I am by how this all is, it is incredible.” He grinned. “It looks like it was done by a professional caterer.”

“Tom, it’s a couple of fucking pieces of prawn in a bowl with lettuce, onion and cherry tomatoes.” She scoffed.

“Darling, you are sublime.”

“This is known.” She grinned.

“Is that your way of telling me the next season has more Dothraki?” Tom asked excitedly.

“No, I am merely quoting the books.” She replied, leaning up and kissing him. “I need to get showered and changed. I got a text from Sophie, Ben’s parents cannot take Christopher this evening, so they are bringing his travel cot and I have the spare room ready for his Royal Handsomeness and Mac is currently protecting the back garden from what I assume are birds and cats.”

Tom looked out, and sure enough, the dog was scouring the tree branches above him for something, but unable to see anything. “You are so efficient, so on that note, how about we continue being efficient and have a shower, together?” he grinned wickedly.

To Tom’s surprise, Danielle frowned slightly. “Can I ask you something?” worriedly, he nodded. “Are you always this…I guess the word is driven?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Have you always been this alert, wanting to…?”

“Have I a high sex drive?” Tom finally figured out what she was trying to say.

“Yes.”

“Honestly, I have not been like this for a few years.”

“And now?”

“Now I want to more than I have in a long time, and the reason for which, in my somewhat educated opinion, that being I know me better than anyone, is because I find you, the sexiest little minx, you are beautiful, alluring, you have the most beautifully plump breasts,” he kneaded them as he said so. “And do not get me started on that delicious and tight quim of yours.”

“You’re hard again, aren’t you?” Danielle shook her head as she smiled.

“Enough to herd cattle, as you have said.”

“Quick shower,” she grinned, grabbing his hand and making her way to the third floor of Tom’s townhouse, the taller Briton all too happy to follow her.

They made their way into the bathroom, Danielle turning on the shower before turning and kissing Tom, pulling his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoning it as he pulled her t-shirt up, groaning at breaking the kiss only as long as was required to get it over her head and then attacking her lips again.

Sloppily, they unclothed one another before Tom grabbed Danielle by the ass and pulled her up and pressed her against the tiled wall of his shower, grinding his bare and leaking cock to her abdomen, before finally positioning himself as best he could against her. Danielle’s contribution to the act was to snake her hand between them and guide him to her core, sighing as he filled her. Slowly, Tom began to move, trying to get the angle that would give his partner the greatest pleasure, finding it more difficult considering they had never used such a position before. Danielle noticed there was a manner for her to steady one of her legs on the handle Tom inexplicably had in the shower, so she did, allowing her to take some of her weight from Tom, who in turn, focused more on thrusting into her as a result.

It was not their most graceful of couplings, but it was amorous and highly pleasurable in its coarse nature. Danielle nipped and Tom’s lower lip, pulling it slightly as he hissed before leaving open mouthed kissed down her throat as he moved in her, her hand fisting the hair on the back of his neck as the water cascaded down on them. Danielle felt the pleasure slowly build in her, but she could tell from Tom’s movements that he would reach his own peak long before her, already nearing it by the sounds he was making. “Tom!”

“I, God Elle.” He rasped, loving how she felt around him.

“Come on baby.” She encouraged.

“You?” he moved slightly to allow her slide her hand between them and slowed himself as best he could.

“There, fuck, there,” Danielle begged as Tom altering his position caused him to brush against her in the most exquisite manner, both inside and out, with the help of his pubic bone.

Tom drove into her with renewed gusto until he felt her walls tighten around him, gripping him and causing increased pleasure on his own behalf. Leaning in and kissing along her collarbone, he waited for her orgasm to finish before moaning loudly, unable to stave off his own any longer and filled her as his mind, and unbeknownst to his brain, his lips, chanted yes, again and again. Panting, Tom pressed his forehead to Danielle’s, the water still pouring over them. “I love you, Danielle Hughes.” He declared in rushed breaths, looking into her eyes.

Danielle gripped her lower lip between her teeth as she smiled back at him. “As I do you, Thomas Hiddleston.” He gently and slowly lowered her to the ground, “You’ve been working out more.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You can hold my ‘wholesome’ ass for a fair amount of time.”

Tom growled before pinning her to the wall of the shower, his blue eyes filled with anger. “Don’t you dare start that,” he warned, “You are incredibly sexy and I would not alter your appearance for anything.” Danielle’s smile in return was somewhat small, not fully believing him. “I just told you I love you, that has to mean something to you, you believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Then why would you not believe me when I say I love your physical appearance too? You were the one, only ten minutes ago asking me if I have always been so easily turned on, I said no, so what do you think causes me to get so aroused around you?”

“You’ve starting sniffing pheromones?” she asked cheekily, laughing a moment later when he chuckled and kissed her again.

“I find you very attractive, and I love these sexy breasts, I told you already, they fit so perfectly into my hands.”

“We really should be getting ready,” Danielle stated, though her tone told of her unwillingness to do so. Tom looked at her for a moment. “What?”

“Do you…?”

“Do I what?” she looked at him suspiciously, not knowing what he was trying to ask, but then she noticed that his gaze was almost fearful, “What Tom, do I what?”

“Find me…”

Danielle expected him to break out in his goofy grin and begin to chuckle, but after a few moments, he didn’t, causing her to erupt in laughter, earning her a very hurt look from Tom. “You honestly think I don’t? Oh, you silly, silly, silly man.” She laughed, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him down for a kiss. “I forget sometimes that even with a legion of fans and even with awards for sexy asses, there is always a chance you would suffer esteem issues. Let’s see, apart from my blatant adoration of your delectable derrière, I adore your eyes, your high cheek bones, your freckles, especially the ones on your chest, I melt when I see the trail of hair from your naval down your abdomen and I cannot ever put into words how much I fucking love your big juicy cock.” Tom stared at her wide-eyed. “Is that in any way what you wanted to hear? You are incredibly sexy Tom, not just to the girls who want you because you’re famous or because you are the gentleman every girl wants, your insecurities are as sexy as anything else about you, because they are human fears, making you all the more desirable in my humble little opinion.”

“Elle,” his nostrils flared slightly and his lip quivered.

“What is going on Tom, you’re clearly worried about something?”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Fucking this up.”

“Good.” His eyes widened as she said it. “It means you care, and yes, we both will screw up from time to time, but hell, we’re both human, so get some shower gel, wash the stench of sex off yourself and let’s get ready for our guests, shall we?” she smiled before reaching passed him to get her shampoo.

Elated that she was not running scared from his voicing his fear, Tom did as requested, watching as she rubbed her shower gel onto herself, not paying him much heed. “I never realised how this can take two people comfortably.” He commented as she was able to put her body wash back on the shelf without rubbing into him.

“You’ve never had fun in here before?” Danielle enquired.

“No, never,” Tom admitted, earning him a slightly suspicious glance. “What?”

“Can I ask why that is in here?” Danielle pointed to the handle.

“I have no idea, it’s been here since before I bought it,” Tom admitted, looking at the fixture.

“Fair enough came in handy anyway.” Danielle shrugged, going back to washing herself. “Tom!” she warned as she felt him snake his arms around her. “You are fucking insatiable, if you’re done, then get out or I will have to put the water on cold.”

“An empty threat,” Tom grinned. Inhaling deeply, Danielle closed her eyes and reached over, turning the temperature to the lowest setting. “Fuck!” Tom almost tripped over himself getting out of the shower as what felt like glacial temperature water hit him. “How the hell are you still in there?” He asked, looking at Danielle, who was not looking comfortable, yet still in the shower.

“Triathlon.” She shrugged, “First ones start in April; you get used to cold water.”

“You are insane,” grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around himself. “Elle, please, get out, you’ll get sick.”

“How can I, it’s lovely and warm again,” she smiled, going under the water again to wash out the conditioner that was in her hair, steam rising again showing she had increased the temperature.

“Kicked out of my own shower, you are taking over the house.”

“I am female, it’s what we do.” She grinned; chuckling, Tom left to get ready.

*

“Hello handsome little man,” Danielle beamed as Christopher looked up at her.

“Thank you for letting him come,” Sophie stated.

“What, will you go way out of that, thank you for still coming and saving me.” Danielle took the nappy bag and immediately made for the stairs so Christopher’s belongings would be where they were needed. Ben and Sophie following her.

“Is Tom around anywhere?” Ben asked, noticing the severe lack of the other man.

“Gone for a quick walk with Mac so that he’ll be settled when there are people here.”

“Mac is here?”

“Yeah, Diana and Sarah came yesterday with him so we are keeping him here til Christmas with us. I think Tom is just happy to have a dog around, he always wanted one.” Danielle smiled. “So this is where Christopher get’s to go for a snooze.”

“Its baby proofed.” Ben noticed, realising there were even safety plugs in the sockets.

“Yeah, I never checked if he can escape travel cots, so I said I would make sure he would be safe in case he did,” Danielle explained. “Am I coming across half mad?”

“And the shortlist of people we can trust to look after Kit in an emergency has now grown.” Sophie declared.

“I’m honoured, I think. How is the bubble?”

“Is she calling our baby a bubble?” Ben asked his wife, who smiled and nodded.

“Don’t say it too often, I think she only calls it that because she finds it amusing when people use the word.” Sophie hinted.

“I do, I really, really do,” Danielle admitted. “Tea?”

“Yes, Sophie took so long getting ready, I feel like there’s a drought.”

“Do men ever stop moaning?” Danielle asked the other woman quietly after Ben left the room.

“Not that I have seen, wait til you’re married to one, I think it increases then.” The other woman stated as they made their way to the stairs.

“I thought the middle floor was best, so he is close enough by and you said you were bringing monitors.”

“Honestly, you are too understanding, thank you.” Sophie smiled. “Have you met anyone else before, who else is coming?”

“Right so, I have met none of these people, but the names I have heard are Laurie and his wife, damn it, I better Google her name and remember it.”

“Jo Green,” Ben informed her from the stairs.

“Thank you, and then there is some guy he was in college with, Francis Dubois and his wife, and Jeremy from RADA and his husband.” She listed off.

“No Luke?”

“No, apparently he is coming later in the week to discuss stuff with Tom, so I was going to go back to Wales with my paperwork, but my car is fecked, so now I am just going to say hello and leave for a while when they are talking.”

“Won’t Tom let you borrow his?”

“I am not touching the steering wheel of that car.” Danielle declared. “Not a hope in hell.”

“It’s just a car.”

“That is worth nearly half my house.”

“You overestimate the cost of a Jag,” Tom commented as he walked back into the kitchen with Mac trotting over to the water bowl, drinking his fill before curling up in the new, and in Danielle’s opinion, overpriced bed Tom had gotten him.

“It was free, he put his ugly mug in front of a camera for a few minutes and they gave him a free car for his troubles.” Ben joked as his friend embraced him.

“You’re just jealous,” Tom dismissed.

“Are any of these people going to have a problem with Mac, not everyone likes dogs, much less big ones?” Danielle asked, looking at Mac, who seemed to realise she was talking about him and looked up at her.

“If they do, the door is there, he is staying here, they are not.” Tom declared. “He’ll just lie there and watch everything, won’t he?”

“That’s his usual style.”

“So as long as one of us remembers he’ll need to take a piss at some stage, it’ll be fine.” Ben shrugged. “I think he has Kit’s attention.” He noticed his son reaching towards the dog. He looked to Danielle, who gave a small nod and knelt down, giving Mac the option to come over if he wanted, with ears forward and tail wagging slightly, the dog came slowly to the toddler, his nose twitching slightly to see if there was anything of note in the youth’s hand. “Gently, Kit,” Ben stated in a soothing voice. Mac stayed still as Ben took Christopher’s hand and gently stroked it down the canine’s neck. “Isn’t he lovely and soft, Kit?” Seemingly delighted with his attention and compliments, Mac nudged Ben’s hand before giving it a small lick, his tail wagging throughout. “Maybe we should…”

“Oh no, we are not even thinking about getting a dog, not for at least a couple of years, I am not going to juggle work, two kids and a dog.” Sophie declared. “It would not be fair to the poor thing. You can both come and play with him if you get an uncontrollable hankering.” She added, pointing to Mac.

“I’m sure Mac won’t mind, will you, boy?” Mac just walked over to Tom, licking his hand and sitting in front of him for him to play with him.

Ben just looked on, his face showing his own slight disappointment, mumbling something akin to ‘not fair’ in the process. “Men are as bad as children,” Sophie growled.

“Worse, kids can be distracted easier.” Danielle laughed.

[phantomphangphucker]

A Three String Heart-Shaped Harp - Story 1: My Heart’s In A Pocket Watch

Collection Summary:  Danny’s a boy with a half-beating heart, and he’s got ghosts haunting it.

Story Summary: Snow White and his ruby red wine

Danny’s staring at a couple of specks of blood on his shoes as he goes to open the door. ‘Nice going Fenton, this pair was already red enough’, jerking out of his thoughts as an all too familiar hand ruffles up his hair. 

Snapping his head up with a jerk, “Clo-!”, cutting himself off with a, definitely not subtle, cough, “uh, Horace, uh, what’s up”. Batting away the playful hand, “is my hair a dog to you?!”. Horace simply grins softly and gives three tiny nods; before stepping around Danny, to enter the living room. 

Danny huffs at them indignantly before going wide-eyed and gaping, realising that not only are his parents at home but that this lovable little shit knew that. Speaking sarcastically, “of course your timing is absolutely perfect, like always”. Groaning as Jazz, sticking her head over the hallway railing, snaps at him, “I would think you, of all people, wouldn’t be rude. Especially as it’s clear you know this unexpected guest”. 

Horace chuckles as they speak up for the first time, while Danny blushes furiously, “oh but of course, we’ve ghosted over enough time to have a level of intimacy”. 

Jazz squints at the blonde but doesn’t get to dwell on it as Maddie sticks her head out of the kitchen, “oh! Hello? Danny, who’s this?”. Eyeing her son curiously as she goes to shake the visitor's hand, “I don’t believe we’ve met before”. 

Danny groans again, mentally grumbling ‘well I guess like everything else in my life, I’m doing this without a damn plan. Greeeeaaaat’. Rubbing his neck and looking anywhere but his mom, “uh, mom, this is Horace. They’re, uh, my other”, rolling his hand exaggeratedly, “partner, lover, romantic interest, cuddle buddy...whatever you wanna call it”. Maddie raises an eyebrow and gives Horace a visual once over, placing her hands on her hips to make it clear she’s going to play protective mother hen. Horace, maintaining their soft smile, sticks their hand out and ruffles Danny’s hair further in response; utterly unfazed. Even maintaining their composure when Jack, summoned by the universal fatherly duty to know all of his children’s love interests, practically speed walks to be directly in front of the pair. Danny only blushes furiously after glancing at his parents, even if he’s mentally cheering, ‘well, there’s no Fenton Creep Stick in sight’. 

Horace chuckles at the large man’s antics, before flicking their, nearly closed, eyes to Danny, “oh I think mate is far more suiting, Daniel”, Horace speaks softly with a faint smile, “much more... timeless”. 

Maddie smirks slightly and pushes Jack back a bit, nodding at Horace faintly, “well, you seem well spoken”. Jack sighs and nods, “nothing like that Johnny rascal”, glancing at Jazz as she groans before continuing, “who will NOT be dating any Fenton”. 

Neither Danny nor Horace even bother to stifle their light chuckling, while Jazz looks to be heading towards the kitchen. Stopping short to spin back towards the pair, pointing her finger in a show of aggressive protectiveness, “you best treat my little brother like a dream come true. He may not look it, but he’s the best soul there is”. 

“Jaaaaaaazzz”, Danny tilts his head back, utterly embarrassed. While Horace nods their head at her, “if anyone recognises timeless purity and knows a star when they see one, it’s me, Jasmine”. 

Jazz clearly finds that statement weird but is overshadowed by Jack straight up beaming, “oh! Stars! You know Danny-boy loves those twinkling things! Always wanted to be a little astronaut!”. 

Danny is currently endlessly thankful for Horace’s insanely high level of patience. Watching them side-eyed, as they close their eyes; seemingly smiling with their eyes as well as their mouth. Though it’s a soft, subtle smile; easily missable if you don’t know it, and Danny knew it well. ‘How is their smile always so freaking cute. It feels like a blanket made of fuzzy glowing stars...and damnit, mom totally noticed me stargazing’, pulling out of his thoughts and pulling his eyes away, catching both Horace’s slight smirk and Maddie’s knowing smile. 

Jack, ever unobservant, yammers on about food, “Mads here made fudge Fiddle Diddles!...oh and spaghetti, but mostly fudge!”, tapping his chin, “or I guess things with fudge”. Shrugging before pointing over his shoulder into the kitchen. Maddie rolls her eyes and nods, watching him scurry off with a fond sigh. 

Turning back to the pair, “there really is spaghetti, and you certainly must stay”. Giving Danny a pointed look before looking at Horace sternly, “I won’t have my baby boy dating someone I know nothing of”. Horace chuckles lightly, “but of course, I wouldn’t want to be an  unknowable ghost; in that sense”, speaking quietly enough so only Danny could really hear them, “that’s precisely the reason I’m here, some secrets aren’t meant to be kept; and others just shouldn’t be”, while Danny just wonders how the heck they manage to talk without moving their lips ‘they’d make one hell of a ventriloquist’. But he does still look rather sheepish at their words, he’s probably a little too used to keeping secrets; especially keeping important things a secret. And this, this was definitely one of those important things. 

Maddie nods curtly, while she feels this Horace person is genuine and, so far, decent enough; she still watches to make sure both of them follow her into the kitchen. Though she can’t help but be curious as to what kind of hair care routine Horace has, to achieve such an almost ridiculously fluffy hairstyle. 

Danny catches Horace’s glance and knowing smirk, flicking his eyes over to the new device his dad’s working on. Groaning, ‘oh great, now what’s that going to do? Something tells me that’s the real reason they’re here, here today specifically’. Muttering at Horace as they sit down, Horace beside him, his dad on one end with Jazz on the other, his mom directly across from the pair. “You're a little shit, you know that?”, Horace doesn’t even glance at him, while Danny mutters into his hand before grabbing his fork, “an infuriatingly cute one”. 

Danny’s honestly impressed his dad actually stops fiddling to eat, though there’s something with fudge in it for desert; so it isn’t that surprising. Looking Horace over, having not really gotten the chance after his earlier mild panic and blatant embarrassment. Noting the plain brown cargo pants, purple pinstriped dress shirt, and black crushed velvet vest; accented by a bronze steampunk watch necklace.  “I’ve never seen you in something so, dare I say, basic?”, Jazz gives Danny an incredulous glare, but redirects that look to Horace as they speak. Sounding almost smug, “well, I will have you know, I am capable of some level of modesty”, at Danny’s snort they concede, “occasionally”, Danny only snorts louder, ‘modest hardly exists in their wardrobe and they know it'. Horace, sighing fondly, “rarely”. Danny chuckles with a smirk, “that’s more like it”. 

Jazz puts her fork down at this, raising her eyebrow questioningly at Horace, “you know, most people dress up, not down, for first impressions. And this-”, gesturing at Horace’s outfit, “-hardly qualifies as dressing down”. Maddie nods in agreement, while Jack simply shrugs, “so long as he’s-”

“They’re”, Horace doesn’t miss a beat in interrupting him, making Jazz giggle. While Jack just keeps talking, “wearing clothing I’m good. Hey! Maybe he-” 

“They”, Horace interrupts again. While Danny’s once again thanking how patient Horace is, Jazz and Maddie both wince a little; futilely hoping Jack gets the message. The fact that he doesn’t even seem to notice either correction as he keeps speaking doesn’t give them hope though, “-usually wears suits! Like Vladdie!”. 

Danny can’t help but smirk, catching Jazz’s shock over Horace chuckling; clearly not offended in the slightest, “never worn one, of all the things I’ve done; wearing a suit is not one of them”, smilingly fondly, “I prefer robes and cloaks, maybe dabble in the occasional frock coat or corset”. 

Danny points at them with a shit-eating grin, “but never capes”. Danny knows Horace’s shudder was fully intentional and done to amuse him. ‘At least my parents won’t be fazed by odd fashion, considering their daily “fashion” choices’

Jazz can’t help but chuckle, Danny clearly hearing her mutter, “I really shouldn’t be surprised Danny’s tastes have aimed for someone with some, unusual, qualities”. Danny coughs and glares at her, Jazz sighs, “strange as they may be, I’d say they’re good for you”. 

Danny only gets a second to blush as he stutters, “uh, t-thanks?”. While Jack grins wide, practically talking over Danny, “odd’s the way of every Fenton! Shows character!”, looking over Horace as they flawlessly twirl their fork full of noddles and glides it into their mouth without losing so much as a drop of sauce, “good character”. 

Maddie smiles at Jack and gives Danny a small nod, Danny’s flat out elated ‘holy shit, they’re usually really off-putting or confusing to other people. But I guess they haven’t exactly gone off on any tangents...yet’. 

Horace nods their head towards Jazz, “my idea of dressing up is often others idea of overwhelming or startling. That’s hardly my intent here, quite the opposite actually”, even Maddie can pick up on the mischievous twinkle in Horace’s eyes, “I’m sure they’ll be quite enough of that, in time”. 

‘Oh great, what game is that cheeky bastard playing?’, pushing them playfully, “mysterious as ever, Pocket Watch”. Horace leans over, whispering into Danny’s ear; resulting in two snickering girls and a widely grinning Jack. “Pet names already, little MoonFlower? As I always say, you should worry less; even if to protect is to worry. Though my protection only has eyes for my Raven Boy”, Danny rolls his eyes, failing to hide a blush. Muttering, “you watch over so much more”.

“Hmmm, protective protection and watchful protecting are not necessarily in the same vein”, Horace ruffles Danny’s hair before returning to their food. 

With a cough, Jazz returns the other onlookers attention to their own food; even Jack has the awareness to feel slightly invasive. Though he takes it as a good sign, that this Horace can make his son blush so easily; clearly he, they, knows Danny’s really well. 

 “Anyways...”, Jazz breaks the unusual silence, unusual only because the Fenton household was rarely quiet. Though she has a suspicion Horace is quite comfortable with silence, but with how rarely Danny shuts up (when he was comfortable anyways), she wonders how that works out. Picking back up and leaning towards Horace, “so you know us Fenton’s are a crazy bunch, right? Not much startles us”. Maddie smiles softly, looking at Jack, “that’s true, Jack dear, you might not even notice if they came in wearing a clown suit”. Jack shrugs, accepting the lighthearted teasing. 

Horace and Danny glance at each other, both sharing feelings of mischief and trickery. Danny mentally laughing, ‘they still can’t find the ghost under the same roof’.

 Horace places both theirs and Danny’s plates in the sink, talking with their back to everyone, “yes, well, you may find I am one of few who only grows stranger with time”. Smiling slightly as they turn back around, with eyes clearly only for Danny, “and one of even fewer who understands that strange and broken are not one and the same”. Jazz is certain Horace is laughing more to themselves than anyone else, as they walk back around, head tilted back and still speaking, “ocean eyes always seem to find themselves on the faces of the impossible and the odd, don’t they?”. With that she watches them sit down and blinks, realising Horace’s eyes are literally the same colour as Danny’s. Muttering to herself that Horace really does get more unusual, the more she notices about them. Maddie’s found herself thinking the same, while Jack is just wondering why Danny seemed almost sad for a second. 

 Danny knows Horace means everything they say, pretty well always, especially towards him. But, ‘a freak is still a freak’, is a thought still nestled in the back of his head most days, however, ‘just the good kind...maybe’, is the thought often following it nowadays. 

Horace nods curtly at the family as they sit back down, “besides even broken is beautiful, glance at any glass mosaic and try to argue otherwise”. Leaning their back against Danny’s shoulder, folding their hands on their chest, while Danny unconsciously leans his head into Horace’s shoulder; blatantly unused to having onlookers, and it’s far too late by the time he has the awareness to feel embarrassed. 

Maddie covers up her snicker with a gloved hand before speaking, “those indeed are pretty, you’re quite the unbashful type; aren’t you? Well, maybe you can get Danny out of his shell some”, pushing Danny’s shoulder playfully, which he rolls his eyes at, before continuing, “Zone knows you could use it, you really are quite shy sweetie”. 

Danny has to suppress a chuckle at that ‘one of the last things people would describe me, well Phantom but still, as is shy. I’m secretive, not shy, that would actually be horrible if I really was shy...or anti-social, damn that would suck’. 

Horace closes their eyes softly as Jack gets back to fiddling with whatever, as Maddie’s putting away hers and his dishes. Horace, sighing, “I would say “shy” would be rather...incorrect. There are simply different ways one can be open to the world”. Maddie’s a bit startled as Horace looks at her with eyes that seem far too old and shadowed by something close to regret or pity, “if you are looking for someone to bring him into being an open book, I’m the last one you should be asking that of. Even the most far-reaching all-seeing eye could never read all my pages”, closing their eyes again, “only one has taken the time to try”. 

Jazz finds that incredibly sad, even Jack frowns a bit, but it’s clear Danny’s used to Horace’s occasional lonesomeness.

 As Danny pokes at Horace lightly, “those eyeballs can stuff it, Time Pants”. 

“Hmpf, that one was weak, Moon Child”, everyone but Jazz chuckles as Danny mutters, “do I need to start calling you Ruby Fine Wine again”. Earning a smirk from Horace, only loud enough for Danny to hear, “sure thing, Snow White”. Danny snaps his head over, pulling himself over and in front of Horace; gaping all the while, conveying as much fake offence as he can. Horace snorts as they rest their arm on the chair backing for support, previously given by Danny’s back, “Snow Bunny”. Danny scrunches up his face, “Fun Sized”. 

“Oh how that could change, Frosty”, the other three occupants aren’t sure if they should leave or not, since the two are clearly off in their own world. Jazz is flat out tempted to smack Danny as he smirks, “and let me guess, Batman, I gotta find the bat cave for the answer to that skill”. 

Maddie officially thinks Horace has zero sense of shame, as even Jack coughs and blushes awkwardly from their response, “only after the timely return of my probe into your ice fortress, Iceman”. Jazz blinks and coughs, while Danny blushes furiously and rights himself back into his seat. 

Danny looks around awkwardly, not about to meet anyone’s eyes, nearly inaudibly muttering, “...Puppet”. Horace nods with a frown, muttering in return, “Soldier”. 

 After some nearly crushingly unpleasant silence, their eyes meet again; and with a shit-eating grin, “Time Daddy”. Resulting in both girls choking slightly, while Jack’s too focused on finishing touches. Horace shrugs exaggeratedly, matching Danny’s grin, “well, time’s my bitch after all”. Jazz facepalms at this while Maddie gapes, “language!”, pointing at Danny, “and you! You knew they’d respond with that”. 

Danny jerks, having actually forgotten about their audience. Rubbing his neck as he responds, “heh, guilty as charged”. Horace leans back into their chair, “yup, caught you dead handed”. Danny can’t help but snort while Jazz groans, muttering, “oh god, they’re too similar”. 

Pointing at his sister and leaning towards her, “jokes, the universal road map out of any dead end”. Horace joins Danny in leaning towards Jazz, “and in a perfectly timely fashion, might I add. Any slower and it’d be Davey Jones’ locker for the pair of us”. 

Jazz groans exaggeratedly and mockingly covers up her ears, before placing her head on the table, but Danny’s more caught up in how Horace is blatantly eyeballing his dad’s invention; clearly annoyed. Not getting to dwell on all the “why”s, as the machine starts beeping...and then talking. 

“WARNING, GHOST DETECTED. ONE FOOT. WARNING, APOCALYPTIC ECTOPLASMIC THREAT WITHIN ONE HUNDRED FEET. IDENTITY UNKNOWN. POWERS UNKNOWN. POWER LEVEL TWENTY-EIGHT”. 

Danny pales at every word, mentally freaking out a bit, ‘oh, oh no. I mean, I guess, it’s-it’s not like either of them could actually hurt, injure or trap them. But-but they better not shoot. I- what would I even do?’, blinking and scooting closer to Horace protectively, ‘protect, always. Always protect. But, but I don’t want to have to! I shouldn’t have to!’. Feeling Horace sigh, ‘they knew this would happen...but then why?’. Danny easily hears Jazz suck in a breath, while Horace mutters into Danny’s ear, “I am not a secret for keeping, calm your snow storm mind, MoonFlower”. Jazz mutters into the table, “stuff detecting Danny, again?”. 

Maddie stands, glancing at the device before glaring at Horace and responding, with a strained voice, “no, Jazz. Danny’s excluded from our stuff now”. Shaking her head, but eyes staying locked with Horace’s blue ones, officially very suspicious of where they got the jagged scar over their eye. “No, it’s detecting them”. 

Jack doesn’t know what to do, surely his son would have known if his partner, or whatever, was overshadowed and he-they-clearly didn’t appear ghostly. 

 Horace sighs, their eyes leaving Maddie to glance at Danny’s. Conflict clear as day in them, but eventually he straightens up; Horace watching him softly as he does. Both of them understanding that this is going to be rather...unpleasant, for everyone. 

Danny officially gets why his other showed up so early, good impressions. Warm his parents up to them, both Horace on their own and the idea of the two of them as a pair. For once Danny’s awful sense self-awareness was actually helpful, otherwise, he’d have never loosened up over dinner; at all. 

Smilingly fondly at Horace, eliciting another sigh from them; but this time it’s laced with contentment and, of all things, pride. 

Horace turns their head back to the two Fenton parents, both of them are now flicking between glaring at Horace accusingly and at Danny, who’s practically pressed into Horace, worriedly. “Indeed, I did tell you as much”, rolling their hand in the air, “albeit, rather covertly”. 

 Jazz blinks at this and lifts up her head, squinting at them before groaning, “you literally said you were an unknown ghost”. Looking almost exhaustedly at Danny, speaking near silently, “how did you find someone as punny as you but somehow more reckless”. 

While Jack knocks his chair over as he stands, Maddie tightening her grip on the ectogun strapped to her belt. Flicking her eyes over to Danny, “Daniel, explain”. 

Horace smirks slightly, leaning back, “well, for hunters, this is a pretty preferable outcome. Not pleasant per se, expected though. But of course, you’ll ignore my words as you believe what you know to be something of a universal truth; when such things do not exist”. Ruffling Danny’s hair, which Danny gapes at him for ‘because how does this situation call for that? If they were anyone else they’d have to have a reckless deathwish’. Horace, continuing to speak as they fiddle with bits of Danny’s hair, “but, just like this celestial one, you have to learn everything the hard way”, closing their eyes with a soft smile, “but of course, my Raven Boy is all the better for it”. 

This finally gets one of the Fenton parents to respond to them, with Maddie practically growling, “he's not “your” anything, ghost”. Stepping closer to the table, ectogun actually drawn now, “how do you even look human? How dare you go after our son”. 

Jazz reaches over the table, placing her hands on the ectogun, “mom, at least let Danny actually explain”. While Danny sighs, “because they want to and, um, I’m more of the, uh, chaser”. Maddie blinks, caught a bit off guard by Danny’s comment before glaring at her daughter, but softens under her pleading face. Jack mutters, “but he’s probably being mind controlled or something”. Earning eyerolls from the couple, “dad, that’s not really something they can do”. Easily catching Jack muttering, “that’s what they want you to think, what they make you think”. 

 Groaning slightly, Danny rubs his neck; he’d look around, avoid their eyes, if it wasn’t for the justified concern they’d assault his other. ‘Well isn’t this just damn peachy. I guess here’s hoping I don’t want to toss myself fully into the Zone after this’. 

Electing to throw his arm around Horace and smush their face into his, effectively making their human face look even less threatening; though Danny just wanted them closer for their protection, regardless of how unneeded that protection was. “I know they’re a ghost, I don’t care. I always knew, I never cared. Ghost aren’t evil, unfeeling things. They aren’t impressions of post-human consciousness, especially the ones that were never human, or alive, to begin with”, even Jazz is a little thrown by the last bit. Raising an eyebrow at Horace, earning a soft smile and nod in return, effectively answering that they indeed where a born, or in their case more correctly called a created, ghost. 

Jack mutters incredulously at Horace, “born a ghost? But ghosts? Nothing but ectoplasm and leftover human thoughts, so how could? How is that?”, Jack cuts himself off with a head shake. It’s clear he was talking to himself but Horace answers anyways, “born ghosts yes, created ghosts as well. We near never leave our Ghost Realm homes, no reason”. Smirking slightly, “my reason is currently treating my face like it’s made of play dough”. 

“Pfft, not sorry”, ‘besides, it sort of is. In a way. So’s mine, technically’, Danny does loosen his grip a bit though, before continuing, “besides that shouldn’t matter, what they are shouldn’t mat-”. Maddie cuts in, “ghost. A ghost. Ghosts are made of ectoplasm, sweetie. How it-”. This time Horace isn’t the only one doing the correcting, joined by both Danny and Jazz, “they”; Horace, patient and softly spoken as ever, Jazz sounding exhausted, and Danny practically growling. ‘They are not an it! Ghosts are not an it!’. Both Danny and Jazz are a bit surprised Maddie actually looks a bit apologetic, still continuing with what she was going to say though, “-came to exist. Still a ghost. Daniel, how could you? Could you be close with one like this? Even friends, haven’t we taught you how dangerous ghosts are?”. 

Danny can’t help but glare, “anything with power is dangerous and loving anyone is dangerous, powers or not. Doesn’t matter”. Danny shuffles a bit, “it doesn’t matter what they’re made of. What we’ve got, odd as it is, is real; is good. They’re good, especially to me”, locking his eyes with his mom determinedly, “that’s what should matter. That they’re good to me”. 

Horace nods, seeming as if this should be obvious, and frankly, it should be. Watching their mates raven black hair, highly tempted to ruffle it again, borderline purring, “and you do nothing but grace me with ocean blues and star fire”. 

Jack can’t help but flop back into his chair at the sight of Danny’s flustered blushing, not sparing a thought as to how the chair is somehow back upright. And Maddie, looking around the table and catching Jazz’s soft but encouraging smile, stiffly lowers herself back into her own seat; though still glaring daggers at the ghost, at Horace. 

 No one does or says anything for a bit, until a squinting Jazz blurts out, “Horace?”.

“Hmmm?”.

“How old are you?”. Now Danny’s face is beet red again, and he groans, knowing full well the spiel Horace is about to go into, “that hardly applies to me, Jasmine. I’m a timeless being, ageless. But I’m certain that age isn’t really what you’re asking, but rather how long, in earthly years, I have been in existence”, at Jazz’s nod they continue, “that question hardly applies to me either, as the answer simply doesn’t exist. You could ask the first human to ever exist and they’d say they saw me yesterday. Ask the first Raptor to ever lay an egg and she’d say we had delightful tea and cakes tomorrow”. 

Horace’s slight smile doesn’t falter as Maddie interrupts them, “enough with the riddles, ghost”. Sighing almost pitifully at her, “now was the best time for them, I would know”. Tilting their head to Jazz, “the simplest answer there is, is always. I have always been here, I am as “old” as existence is. As the earth, as the Ghost Realm. But I am also younger than everything”. 

Jack mutters, “pretty sure that’s still a riddle...and makes no sense”. 

 Danny can’t help but chuckle, even if it’s a bit strained. Leaning into Horace and whispering to them, “it cool if I just tell them who you really are? You’re pretty well incapable of not being confusing here”. Horace’s eyes twinkle mischievously, speaking near silently, “I’d say the time has certainly come. This falls into the space of shouldn’t be hidden, rather than can’t be. So it is truly your choice to make Daniel, but then again, so is everything”. 

“Hmpf”, Danny rolls his eyes before turning back to his family, ‘well they were exactly as helpful as expected, meaning not at all’. Clasping his hands together on the table before unclasping them to gesture at Horace, reclasping them together again as he talks, “Horace...is not their real name...just their chosen human one. To go with the human form”. Horace nods, amusement barely hidden on their face, “Horace is the English derivative of Horatius, it’s a Latin name”. 

While “Horace” has a blatantly shit-eating grin plastered on their face, Danny shuffles and clears his throat a bit, before talking again, “it means “hour in time” or-”, chuckling faintly, “-time keeper””. Gesturing again at “Horace”, while Jazz goes slack-jawed; knowing full well who this is now. Danny ignores her gaping, “their real name, is ClockWork. The Time Master, Guardian of the Time Stream, Protector Of the Timeline; there’s a lot of ways to say it”. Shrugging and rubbing his neck, “basically it’s their job to make sure time itself doesn’t get destroyed. Because of that time doesn’t really apply to them”. 

ClockWork nods, “I am simultaneously young, middle-aged, old, and ageless. And I see all of time, every action anyone or thing has, is, or will, ever take. I knew this conversation well before any of you were born. Before the human race even existed”. 

 Uncomfortable silence settles again as the Fenton parents attempt to process that, the silence was broken by Jack muttering, eyes on his invention, “no wonder you’re a warning class. That kind of power...”. 

Jazz nods awkwardly, looking to lift the mood some, “while that is startling, mom, dad, that means they could have willing avoid this...but didn’t”. Flicking her eyes to Danny, “I’m pretty sure Danny didn’t know they were coming over today, so they clearly wanted you to know about them; know about this relationship”, squinting at the invention before continuing, practically whispering, “without hiding what they are...”. 

ClockWork smiles softly, nodding approvingly at her, “intelligent and observant as ever, Jasmine. But fret not, I alone, did not make this choice”. Nuzzling their nose into Danny’s cheek, which he leans into, “Daniel could have simply had me leave, there was time enough for that”, smirking, “but of course, I knew he wouldn’t”. 

Maddie watches the two, finding it a bit hard to glare with the pale soft looking blondes face, who hasn’t even seemed slightly threatening or even unpleasant the entire night, nestled into Danny’s neck. While Danny is clearly leaning into the affectionate display, only a slight blush showing his awareness of the presence of the rest of his family. 

Maddie fiddles with the ectogun in her lap, while she stares at the table. Flicking her eyes up at Danny, who’s now watching her cautiously, “they...this ghost...they have so much power. How? How does that not bother you? They could probably destroy you, this whole city, before you could blink”, shaking her head, “that kind of power, no one or thing should have that”. 

ClockWork chuckles, “oh but I was created for it. Without me, well, time would be quite...unstable”, frowning slightly, “me not existing would be far more destructive than any of my powers”. 

 Danny can’t help but snicker slightly, ‘that’s right, they don’t really have any actually offensive powers’, patting ClockWork’s fluffy hair, “ClockWork doesn’t really have the powers other ghosts do. They’re powers start and end with time stuff”, snorting and muttering to himself, “add in those stupid eyeballs”. Clearing his throat, “plus they’re bound, they can’t harm or destroy anyone or thing except to protect time or the future”, shrugging, “you know, world ending kind of stuff”. Muttering to himself, “it’s shocking ClockWork’s even able to date”. 

ClockWork snorts into Danny’s neck, while Maddie shakes her head, “still, a ghost’s a ghost. They shouldn’t be here”, gesturing at the couple, “this shouldn’t be happening. A human...and a ghost”, shaking her head, and locking her eyes with Danny’s, “we’re Fenton’s, hunters...”. 

Jack nods awkwardly, “son, Danny-boy, how can this be ok?”. Danny’s groans and tilts his head back, rubbing his face before looking to his dad, “it’s not really for you to decide if it’s ok. I’ve already decided it is, so it is”, shrugging, “you just have to, um, accept it and, um, not hate it... not hate them”. 

 Danny, glancing down in the direction he knows his mom’s ectogun is resting, “and ClockWork, they’re immortal. You can’t destroy them, mom, no matter what you tried. You’d have better luck blowing up the whole planet”. 

Maddie tosses the gun onto the table and puts her head in her hands, while ClockWork nods, seeming almost sad, “yes, I’m will always be here. Even when nothing else is”. Danny nods lightly, muttering, “time doesn’t go away just because no one’s there to count the seconds”. 

“And I am time given conscious form”, though ClockWork’s words were borderline silent, everyone clearly hears them.

 Again, silence, until Jazz breaks it again, looking down at the table, “that’s...actually kind of...awful”. Danny smiles somewhat sadly at Jazz, as she flicks her eyes up at him. He nods slightly, “that’s why they’re so um, unbashful? No reason not to be and they don’t really get to do things purely for themselves...much anyway”. 

Maddie and Jack glance at each other, Jack smiling a bit forced, “love is kind of selfish, isn’t it...”. Shaking his head, “love... and ghosts, who would have thought”. 

This gets Maddie to blink and really study ClockWork, who’s full body leaning on Danny with their eyes closed; content and...in love. Something she never thought a ghost even capable of understanding. 

Danny nods, seeming rather embarrassed, “it’s not really that, um, uncommon”, rubbing at his neck, “ClockWork’s not really the, um, first ghost I’ve dated. Though me and Kitty didn’t exactly last long”. 

ClockWork snorts, “she’s hardly your type. Needy in all the wrong ways”. Danny nods, “oh yeah, big time”, shrugging, “besides, she and Johnny really are meant for each other”. Jazz groans, muttering at him, “did you have to bring him up?”. Making the couple snicker at her. 

Maddie nods, feeling a bit of guilt and shame, “and you, you didn’t tell us. Because you were worried, afraid, of how we’d react”. Danny nods stiffly, but ClockWork’s the one to speak, “and rightfully so. Things are different with me, I know all the ways you could react and the likelihood of each”, lifting up their head and pushing their forehead into the side of Danny’s head, “and this Space Boy knows that, so he really should stop worrying”. Danny rolls his eyes though blushing faintly. 

 Jack nods strongly, looking at the two before pushing a plate of fudge Fiddle Diddles at them. Danny can’t help but smile, ‘dad’s...sharing his fudge...I just, wow. Okay, this actually worked out...somehow’. 

Maddie sighs as she watches Danny and ClockWork take turns biting into one Fiddle Diddle. “So ghosts eat now”, looking down at the table, “I guess...I guess there’s a lot we don’t actually know”. 

ClockWork nods, “and I know everything, you are better for not having all the information. To learn is to grow, those that can not learn can never grow nor change”. Danny grunts, “oh you learn plenty, just weirdly”, rolling his eyes, “stupid fluffy purple batman”. 

ClockWork leans closer to Danny’s ear, “I think you’ll find, I’m more fine silks and satins than fluff”, resulting in Danny covering up his blushing with his hands, as ClockWork leans back init their chair with a faint smirk. 

 This time the silence is more comfortable as the plate gets passed around, everyone eating more or less comfortably. Though both Jack and Maddie still glance cautiously at the, uncomfortably human-looking, ghost. 

Jack can’t contain his curiosity anymore, “you, ClockWork or Horace?”, shrugging, “the human look, Danny-boy said you were doing it willingly”. Maddie blinks a bit, but leans over the table a slightly, staring at ClockWork, “what do you actually look like?”. Jazz blinks, unable to help being curious herself, having never actually seen what the enigmatic time ghost truly looked like. 

 ClockWork cracks open one eye, “it’s Horace for those that do not know what, or who, I truly am. Same goes for the human form, I’ve been simply maintaining it to allow you time to adjust to me and the knowledge of me. Particularly, knowledge of me with your Raven Dove son”. 

Jazz nods, thoroughly impressed with ClockWork’s level of forethought and sympathy. Surely they could have simply made this very jarring, instead, they’ve been easing into every aspect with practiced grace. Smiling at them, “well, I think we could all do with you being fully honest now”, chuckling, “besides, dad’s curiosity is ravenous. He’ll never stop pestering you”. 

Even Danny can tell Jack has gone from cautious and confused, to uneasy acceptance, to giddy curiosity. Nudging ClockWork and smiling, eliciting another proud smile from the time ghost, “if you’re comfortable with it, Daniel, then I see no reason not to”, chuckling, “human forms are hardly comfortable to maintain”. 

 “So you’ve been intentionally making yourself uncomfortable just so your boyfriends' parents would at least not hate you?”, Jazz groans as ClockWork starts nodding, looking at Danny and playfully muttering, “you’re dating yourself...punny, secretive, powerful, enigmatic, mysterious, self-sacrificial...”. Danny snorts and rolls his eyes, while Jazz squints at ClockWork, “your human form, looks nothing like you actually do...does it?”, groaning as ClockWork actually laughs, “looks a lot like Danny though”. 

 Danny blushes as ClockWork shrugs, “what can I say, I like what I see. Who wouldn’t want to look like the living embodiment of sunlight and star fire”. ClockWork ruffles Danny’s hair as they drop the human disguise, fading away with dramatic sparks and sparkling, Danny can’t help but smirk, “drama queen”. Though rather impressed that ClockWork stays sitting in the chair, ‘sitting down with a ghostly tail isn’t exactly the easiest thing, but it’s not like they weren’t expecting to be sitting’.

 All three regular humans gape, slack-jawed; at the blue-skinned, purple cloaked, and red-eyed ghost. Danny can’t help but snort as ClockWork shifts into their child form. “As I’ve said, I am every age and no age. My natural form constantly and unconsciously changes to reflect this fact”. Danny can’t help but snicker, “makes cuddling a trip, when your other is constantly changing height and size”. 

“So you...can’t control it”, Jazz isn’t sure what else to say right now, they’re literally a toddler right now. ClockWork shrugs before shifting into a teenage form, “I’m hardly aware of the changing, though I can slow it down or speed it up. All things normalised with time”. 

Maddie blinks and leans back, pulled out of her stupor by the pun, looking the teenage ghost over, “does this, age changing, affect your...behaviour? And how does your chest even work?”. ClockWork smirks, flicking open the clock case door-window on their chest, “it does not. My clock reflects the state of time around me. The pendulum swinging to the speed of time, or not at all if time is stopped”, flicking at the neck of the pendulum as it swings back and forth lazily, “the clock face itself is my core”. Closing the clock case window, while Danny sticks his hand under, the now adult, ClockWork’s hood; toying with the hidden blonde locks. Prompting ClockWork to ruffle Danny’s, before smushing Danny’s head into their chest; cloak draping over Danny’s shoulder in the process. 

Jazz can’t help but giggle, muttering into her hand, “okay, that’s adorable”. 

 Danny blushes and huffs at her, while Maddie sighs, “I can’t say I like this, but I guess I can...accept it”, looking into ClockWork’s eyes, and getting startled by them becoming wrinkled and old. Shaking her head, “that’s incredibly disorienting”, sitting back up, “but know this, ghost, if you harm him. Then I don’t care how immortal you are, I will hunt you and I will destroy you”. 

Danny groans loudly, “could we not with the death threats?”. ClockWork pats his head, “nonsense, I would desire nothing different. The feeling is quite mutual after all”, smiling down at Danny, “only difference is, I understand intentionally seeking revenge on your behalf wouldn’t exactly please you”, shrugging, “but if say, someone’s future suddenly started taking all the wrong twists and turns...then who’s to say if it was really my meddling that caused them to get exiled to the void of space”. 

Danny squints up at ClockWork, “that is suspiciously specific...”, trailing off as ClockWork shifts to a toddler again, “...Fun Sized”. 

Jack, on the other hand, is flat-out impressed and likes that this ghost is clearly protective without being flat-out obsessive. Nodding strongly, “I don’t approve of this, but you’re clearly not looking to harm. So...I guess it’s fine”, looking down at Danny, who’s clearly beaming, “still beyond weird and not really okay, especially for a Fenton”. 

Jazz nods, “well look at it this way, Danny isn’t as uninterested in ghost stuff as you thought?”. Maddie glances at her, slightly unimpressed. While Danny snorts, pulling teenage ClockWork’s cloak around himself a bit more, “my interest is friendly and affectionate, not really the same Jazz”. Maddie frowns at Danny, but nods with a sigh, “and I’m guessing you’re pretty set on your feelings and-”, gesturing at ClockWork, “-on this, on them”. 

Danny nods almost aggressively, “yes, mom, ClockWork is my other, my mate”. Jack takes in Danny firm face and intense gaze, before nodding at him, “well that settles it then”. Turning to ClockWork and awkwardly holding out his hand for a handshake, “I guess, welcome to the Fenton family, ClockWork”. 

 Maddie stares at her husband a bit as he shakes hands with a ghost, glaring at ClockWork, “I wouldn’t say you’re part of the family, ghost, but if Danny is as certain as he clearly is, then our home, our family, will allow you in”, muttering to herself, though easily heard by the two ghostly mates, “pretty sure you’d get in any way though”. 

Judging by the mischievous twinklings in the pairs eyes and the smirks, Maddie knows she’s right. She’s pretty well certain this ghost, ClockWork, has been over multiple times. 

 Jazz, blinking a bit and staring at ClockWork’s hand and wrist, lazily resting on the backing of their chair, “what’s with all the watches? You’re practically covered in clock imagery”. Instantly regretting her question and showing it with a groan, as the pair smirk. 

“I’m the time master, everything is time with me. I also have a pocket watch wrapped around my belt. My cloak clasp is a clock gear, my name is a time pun, Jasmine. You should expect as much”. Danny sticks out his tongue at her, but answers his dad’s confused expression, “clocks count time, keep track of it. And time is ClockWork’s job, their work. So they’re a clock that works. ClockWork”. Jazz groans, “you’re awful, both of you”.

Jack shakes his head, amused, at the, clearly mischevious and jokester, ghost. Before gesturing over to the living room, “so movies? I’d say pull out Danny’s baby home videos....but with what I’ve learned of you, that’d be really pointless”. Maddie nods, following Jack to stand in the doorway, watching Danny untangle himself from ClockWork’s purple cloak, “they probably watched him grow up”. 

Maddie gets startled by ClockWork, clearly not expect them to actually comment on what she said, “indeed I did, I knew how important he’d be, especially to me. Of course, I paid more attention to his growing up than most”, ClockWork smiles fondly while Danny just blushes, blushing even more as a child ClockWork sits on his shoulder, ghostly tail lazily wiggling and occasionally tracing along his collar bone. 

Jazz mutters, “again, adorable. Weird, but adorable”. While Maddie shakes her head, “how is that not rather creepy”. Danny just shrugs at her, walking past her to the couch, he’s really got no way to explain why it’s not; it just isn’t. Letting ClockWork float off his shoulder, changing into their teenage form, before sitting on the couch; Danny cuddling into them. Jazz puts herself in between Danny and their parents, obviously playing the role of protective, and overbearing, sister. 

 Jack eventually settles on some sci-fi movie, Maddie eyes ClockWork’s tail as Jack puts in the movie, “why the constant tail? Wouldn’t legs be more comfortable?”. ClockWork gives her a warm smile, “I always have a tail. As Daniel has said, I’m not like other ghosts. I don’t have things other ghosts do, legs are one of those things”. 

“Huh”, with that everyone settles in and watches the movie mostly silently.

Danny, chuckling after a while, “I’m going to guess that it’s a little early to drag everyone to ClockWork’s lair, ain’t it?”, Danny can’t help but tilt his head back and laugh as both his parents speak up at the same time. Mixtures of excitement, worry, and mistrust in their voices. 

“You’ve been to a ghost lair!?!”.

“You went into the ghost zone! Danny! You know how dangerous that is!?!”.

“What’s the air like?!? Does h-they have furniture?!? Is it all green?!?”.

“Were you safe? Please tell me you were at least together the whole time...”.

ClockWork raises their hand, “I might be able to control time and in general be quite content to indulge curiosities, but even I’ve got a limit to my tolerance. Patient as I may be”, frowning slightly before continuing, “this is far more socialising than I get in an entire year, I’m a solitary thing; with nothing but silence for company for most of my existence”. 

Jazz mutters, “once again, that’s kind of awful”. ClockWork shrugs, “it’s my existence, and it will never change. I’m made for it, meant for it; so push aside your pity, it is misplaced”. 

 “Anyway...”, Danny chuckles, rolling his eyes at his long-winded other. Leaning forward and looking to his mom, “it’s perfectly safe, mom. Especially the clocktower citadel, there’s probably no better protected or harder to find places in the whole Zone”, chucking and shaking his head, “you can’t even find the place at all, unless ClockWork here wants you to. Same for getting inside, or finding ClockWork themselves. That’s not even mentioning that the place exists in a different state of time and gets visitors from other timelines”. 

Maddie mutters, “well I guess that’s secure enough”. Danny nods curtly before turning to his, practically bouncing and bursting with curiosity, dad, “yes they’ve got furniture, mostly purple or black though. Lots of gears and bits of clocks, viewing screens and portals to timelines, pasts, presents, and futures”. 

ClockWork chuckles, “at least you’ve learned not to jump through them, without at least asking, now”, ruffling Danny’s hair, “even if you did have to learn that the hard way, like usual”. Danny looks away and makes a show of pouting, “you can’t present someone with the option to time-travel and expect them to not take it, Gears”. ClockWork tilts their head down to look at Danny’s face, “yes well, most folks don’t mess up the past every single time. How you manage that is both endearing and ridiculous”. Tilting their head over to Jazz, “it took a whole year to fix it last time, and all he did was pick up a rock”, turning back to Danny, “out of all the rocks you decide to poke, of all the possibilities, you manage to grab the only one stopping a river from collapsing”. 

Danny just shrugs guiltily while Jack chuckles, “wow, sounds like you’ve dragged Danny-boy on some adventures”, chuckling again, “or more so, he’s dragged you on them”. While Jazz snickers, quietly speaking, “reckless as ever”.

ClockWork easily catches Maddie glaring at them, waving their elderly hand dismissively at her, “I’m aware of all of time, I was fully aware of where and when he was at all times. I also knew what and how he was going to mess things up well beforehand”, shrugging, “but he had lessons to learn, so I let time take its course. We met when he was fourteen, so there was plenty he had yet to learn. As I’ve said-”, patting Danny’s head, “-he likes to learn things the hard way, or weird way”. Danny grunts, “least I’m not boring”. 

 Jack can’t help but chuckle, slapping his knee, “well that’s a Fenton for you!”. Maddie points at them, “you better not have been together when Danny was that young”. 

ClockWork puts up one hand to pacify her, “but of course not, it was by no means the time for this. I was simply a friend and occasional guiding hand”. Danny pokes their cheek, “you and your soft spot for me. Wouldn’t have done all that for anyone else”, smirking mischievously at the teenage ClockWork, “and imagine my surprise when I discovered that soft spot was heart-shaped”. Danny doesn’t even attempt to hide his wider smirk, hearing ClockWork’s steadily ticking clock core tick a bit louder. 

Alt Ending:

“WARNING, GHOSTS DETECTED. ONE FOOT. WARNING, APOCALYPTIC ECTOPLASMIC THREATS WITHIN ONE HUNDRED FEET. ONE IDENTITY KNOWN, DANNY PHANTOM. TYPICAL GHOST POWERS, ICE POWERS, GHOSTLY WAIL, ONE UNKNOWN POWER. POWER LEVEL TWENTY-FIVE. ONE IDENTITY UNKNOWN. POWERS UNKNOWN. POWER LEVEL TWENTY-EIGHT”. 

Danny pales at every word, mentally freaking out a bit, ‘oh, oh no. This is so not how they were supposed to find out. But-but would they shoot? Shoot me? My other? I- what do I even do?’, blinking and scooting closer to Horace protectively, ‘protect, always. Always protect. But, but I don’t want to have to! I shouldn’t have to! Heck! I might need the protection myself!’. Feeling Horace sigh, ‘they knew this would happen...but then why?’. Mentally pausing for only a few seconds, ‘of course, they, they’re looking to protect, protect me...oh god this isn’t going to go well, is it?’. 

Danny easily hears Jazz suck in a breath, while Horace mutters into Danny’s ear, “not every secret can be kept forever, you’ve had enough resets by now to know this. I’m sorry for this, my MoonFlower”. Jazz mutters into the table, “stuff detecting Danny, again?”. 

 Maddie stands, glancing at the device before glaring at the pair and responding, with a strained voice, “no, Jazz. It only detects ghosts”. 

Jack doesn’t know what to do, surely he would have known if his son was overshadowed and he-both of them actually-clearly didn’t appear ghostly. So what was the truth, “Danny?Phantom?”. 

 Horace sighs, their eyes leaving Maddie’s to glance at Danny’s. Conflict clear as day in them, feeling his grip tighten on their dress shirt sleeve; Horace watching him sadly as he does.

Maddie interrupts their slight intimacy, “ghosts, no games. Where’s my son, the real one”. 

Danny sighs, giving Horace a pained smile, eliciting sigh from them as well; but this time it’s laced with resignation and, of all things, determination. 

 Horace turns their head back to the two Fenton parents, both of them are now flicking between glaring at Horace accusingly and at Danny, who’s practically pressed into Horace, hatefully. “Indeed, I did tell you as much”, Horace says through a frown as Danny phases the two of them through their chairs, but, due to their physical closeness, Maddie and Jack can’t tell who did it. Horace wraps their arm protectively around Danny’s shoulder, Danny does the same around Horace’s waist. 

 Jack jerks out of his chair, sending it crashing to the ground; while Maddie goes to aim her gun. Jazz practically jumps out of her seat and slams her hand onto Maddie’s gun, “mom! Stop! Don’t, that’s Danny, the real Danny”, quickly sparing Danny a sympathetic glance, “he always has been”. 

Maddie ignores Jazz and practically growls, “that’s not “Danny” anything, Danny’s no ghost”. Stepping closer to the table, “how do you even look human? How dare you pretend to be our son, our Danny”. Glaring even harder, “and that other thing is almost just as bad”. 

 ‘Well isn’t this just damn peachy. I guess I always was going to have to fling my self into the Zone eventually. Here’s hoping I can do that with getting fully offed’. Clearing his throat, hoping to at least buy time or maybe, just maybe, get them to understand; to not hate him or his other, “I know we’re ghosts. Phantom, yes; but I’m still Danny. I always have been, I’ve never been pretending. Ghost aren’t evil, unfeeling things. I’m your son”, shuffling a bit, “only half ghost though, me. But that shouldn’t matter, none of this should mat-”, Danny gets cut off by Maddie firing her gun off at the floor. 

 Jazz jerks back, startled, unsure if that was just cause of her mom’s extreme grip or if she did that intentionally. Jazz gets her answer as Maddie snaps, “that’s not even possible, ghosts are nothing but liars and evil. Ectoplasmic scum!”, Jack grabs and pulls Jazz to the side as Maddie storms towards the couple. 

‘Oh god, she’s-she’s really going to, going to shoot at me?!? What the hell?!?’, Danny can’t help but curl into Horace’s side like a kicked puppy; tears welling up in his eyes. 

 Maddie snaps again, though not lifting her gun up, “how dare you tell me lies about my son! How dare you come into a hunter’s home and think you can trick us!”, sneering at them, “ectoplasmic filth always thinking so little of humans, but Fenton’s aren’t your usual and we won’t be trick by such filth”. 

Horace then does something Danny’s never seen them do, they snarl; teeth bared and eyes red, full-blown snarling at Maddie, “you’re already believing lies, but the one telling you those lies is yourself. Little Raven Dove deserves better than that”. 

 Horace’s glaring doesn’t falter and their teeth stay bared, as Maddie sneers at them, “enough with the lies, ghost. Things like you have no place in this world, even if half ghosts were possible; a ghost is still a ghost. Half of one is just a bastardised monster”. 

Jazz gapes at Maddie while Horace sighs pitifully at Maddie, giving Jazz a soft apologetic smile before returning to snarling at Maddie, “you mortals always insist on learning things the hard way, but this is a lesson you don’t get to rewrite. Pick your actions carefully”, feeling the slight shaking in Danny’s tightly gripping hands and slight wetness on their shoulder, Horace stands defiant, holding one hand behind their back, and spits their words like venom, “though your ill-chosen words have already failed you”. 

 Jazz tries to pull away from her dad, but his grips firm though he looks at her confused; not understanding why she appears to be crying. Jazz cries out, though her gut tells her words are pointless, “mom! Don’t! Please! Can’t you for once in your life realise your science isn’t perfect! That you could be wrong! Because you’re wrong!”, struggling more, “Danny is strange, yes! But that’s ok! That’s good! He does good! Leave my little brother alone!”. 

 Maddie flinches from her daughters' words, but only looks at the two with more hate, hissing out, “you corrupted her. You messed with my baby girl”. 

Danny nearly whimpers, “no...”. But he can see there’s no arguing with her and Horace knows there’s not, they always knew such. Horace, pushing Danny behind them slightly, feeling Danny’s fingers brush against theirs behind their back; knowing that Danny knows what they intend to do.

 Snapping at Maddie at the feel of Danny’s slight shaky nod, “the only one corrupting anything is you. You were blessed with a celestial child, a son of star fire. One blazing more pure and bright than any sun, yet you refuse, you reject. But I expected as much, I knew as much, I saw as much”. Shaking their head disappointedly, “in another time you may have earned the right to see me, to know me; but not in this one, not this time. You deserve nothing more than to crumble and fall with the sands of time, and you will, times told it so. Horace means time keeper for a reason, I keep times truth and times truth is thus”, frowning sadly at Maddie as she slowly, attempting subtlety, charges up her gun. Catching Jazz’s nearly inaudible whisper, “ClockWork...I...thank you...”. 

Attention squarely back on Maddie, “truth will forever be a mystery to you, you’ll grow old and die; without a son, without a daughter. You will join the Ghost Realm, bitter, lonely and endlessly resentful. You will be rejected there, you will reject yourself; though Snow White, far to fair, will forgive you. You’ll be too far gone and so you’ll join that foolish power-mad space nomad, exiled. But he’ll destroy you, fuelled by his own bitter, lonely, resentment”. 

 Everything is silent for a second, an all too familiar calm before the storm; familiar especially to Danny, one far too used to living in storms and awaiting the next one. Mentally muttering, ‘oh look, another tornado to destroy my whole life’. 

Jazz tries her damnedest to pull away from her father as she watches her mother jerk the gun up, finger on the trigger. Seeing Horace, ClockWork, pulling out their staff seconds faster. Slamming away Maddie’s gun as they spin the staff, creating a portal. Jazz cries even harder and slams her fist on Jack’s chest after she can see Danny disappear safely with his other. An other she knows will protect him and help him heal from this, she doesn’t have to worry about him but she’ll be damned if her “parents” get away with hurting her little brother so. 

The last thing Danny sees of his family is Jazz slamming her second fist into Jack’s chest. Blinking and staggering away from ClockWork a bit, as he sees they’re on a grassy hill; countless stars above and Amity’s city lights in the distance. 

Whipping at his eyes before collapsing back into ClockWork’s satin cloak, “I’m sorry Daniel, my little stargazing Space Boy, but it’s all I could do”, cradling the young halfa they love into their chest, his tear-streaked face pushing harshly into their neck. 

“I know”, comes out quiet and broken; yet ClockWork feels the words echo like a gong and scream beyond any ghostly wail.

End.

[amazildoessomethingstupid]

Chapter 97: After, You

Rise and shine, everyone! It’s September 12th, and you all know what that means right?  That means it’s the fourth year anniversary of January! Hurray!  And what better way to celebrate, than with a good ol’ Chapter rant on one of the most infamous chapters in BCB.  And after all the hype and shit I’ve heard about this chapter I can’t wait to dive right in, sink my teeth in, and properly dissect it! Hmm, that came out a lot hungrier than I thought…

We start off with a bit more of Lucy’s mom being really cute and funny.  Although I will say it’s kind of surprising to see that this takes place immediately where the last chapter left off.  I guess I’m so used to time frames between chapters being out of whack so much, I just got used to there being missing days or pieces.   Can’t tell if good thing or not.

Also, just to point it out. Dat Size Difference Tho.  Lucy’s mom is one small mama…or maybe Paulo’s exposure to Daisy gave him some of that mutant radiation and made him huge.  Either way!

We spend the first pages of this chapter doing…homework?  Kinda weird, I guess it helps to show Lucy and Paulo being nice together.  It’s just pointless ship sailing really, and we all know how that’s gonna g-

Bruh…

Wut?

O-oh we’re just going to brush past that?  We’re just going to move on, from that random as fuck cross-ship?  That’s what we’re doing? OH NO NO NO, YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! LET’S RECAP FOR A SECOND SHALL WE? WHAT DID WE JUST GET FROM THE LAST CHAPTER?

The emerging of Paulo and Daisy’s relationship.

The complete obliteration of Paulo and Rachel’s relationship.

And finally the revival of Paulo and Lucy’s relationship.  WHICH IS WHAT I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO GET INTO WITH THIS CHAPTER!  Putting myself in the writer’s seat for a moment, I thought well hey!  This is going to be a little ship ride!  And because I have ADHD I can’t really remember what the fuck actually happened in this chapter or what it was really about, but hey!  Maybe this is where Taeshi is going to focus on Paulo and Lucy, try and build up this ship and make us give a shit about it.  But noooo, that’s too focused for Taeshi!  Gotta get that shipping battle in, get that nice dramatic romance conflict!  That’s what the fans, and dedicated readers are really here for!  

THE FIRST FOUR PAGES! Before we get into what this chapter is actually about, before we know what we’re even in for, before we get to the real shit people want to read about, we gotta remind them that Paulo likes Daisy!  And I mean REALLY REALLY likes her!  Because fuck, they might’ve forgotten about that!  I mean it was only built up recently, was on the rocks for a bit, but got ironed out and set up IN THE LAST FUCKING CHAPTER!  What’s the point of this?  Why bring up that Paulo likes Daisy?  Do you think your audience whom you constantly bait with pairings, and relationships, would need to be hit over the head with a shoehorned reminder that Paulo has feelings for Daisy?!

Actually, yeah I think it’s pretty clear Taeshi has some contempt for her audience.  Given she thinks we need to be hit over the head this hard and often.  It’s honestly insulting, and I only read this shit occasionally.  I don’t know how some of you can put up with this crap.  Do the concussions just numb the pain after a while?  Whatever let’s get to the fun stuff.

Anyway, Paulo is walking with Lucy and it’s honestly not bad.  It feels weird for Paulo to be so desperate, but given that Lucy almost fucking died and was gone forever…Yeah it’s understandable.  But this though…

Uhhh…Paulo?  A-are you trying to scare Lucy?  …what?

Why are you t-rexing right now?  What’s wrong with your arms? Why are you explaining it like this? I mean I can get excited maybe?  But he seems ELATED about drama which is…dare I say…a smidge out of character?  What is this?  Also, I actually got tripped up reading this panel and I think that might be the positioning of the word bubbles because instead of using the traditional method of:

For whatever reason, in this panel specifically it’s:

Which is unnatural for most English readers, who end reading on the right.  So I didn’t even realize that Paulo said “Whuh?” there when I moved to the next panel.  Making the emotional shift in his character more jarring when he switches from oddly joking around, to:

Being moody, to Lucy’s disinterest.  But that’s just an odd thing I picked up after going through again to write this rant. It’s not THAT big of an issue, but I do have to ask:

Really? That’s what you got out of that? Paulo says that all your friends were really upset that you were gone, and that’s your response?  That’s the only thing you have to say about this?  Geeze, it’s almost like you don’t really care.

But anyway, we’re finally on to the Carnival.  And we actually do get some nice and interesting dialogue here.

Paulo starts to talk about the things she’s missed out on since she was gone, and it’s actually pretty nice. I like Paulo being more relaxed and natural, playing around with Lucy.  Although someone pointed something out to me that really deserves a mention:

Again?  Paulo is poor, but he’s never been one to “borrow” or mooch off his friends, especially not Lucy.  Paulo has consistently never let his poverty be a burden to anyone else, and it is a real positive factor about him that shows his selflessness.  Paulo to my knowledge never did stuff like that, he was the one who bought Daisy lunch, even when Mike was buying Paulo sodas for the contest it wasn’t like Paulo was mooching off Mike’s money to win the contest. It was more of a mutual effort, since Mike couldn’t stomach the stuff.   Lucy thinking Paulo would “borrow” things just seems so weird to bring up.  And I know none of this stuff is really major or that worth mentioning but honestly…

There is really not much to talk about here.  Imma be real witchu chief, I’m a little underwhelmed right now.  Guest of Honor had me gripped and had fun in the first parts, Boy Toy I could tear apart with its dumb decisions and missed opportunities, and so on and so forth, but this… This is weird.  It’s not that aggravating really, the next page after this is just Paulo and lucy doing rides.   I guess y’know, after 5 chapters that knock you around and turn my stomach inside out with force fed bullshit, I guess you gotta have a nice mediocre one to help mellow you out after a while.   I’m not really complaining, but I just heard so much about this I expected more y’know? I was hoping for something a bit more to sink my teeth into.  

But anyway, back to the comic.  Lucy asks Paulo about Abbey and Daisy (for some reason, honestly it seems she doesn’t care about the group anymore so why ask about them, and also why them?  They’re like the least close to Lucy why would she care about them?)  and…

…what?

*groan* fuck I found something to say.

First of all.  That Face.  Stop That Face.  Secondly, who the hell are you?  I know I said in the previous chapter, that Lucy is no longer Lucy, but this here really solidifies it and is very concerning.  Who the fuck is this?  Lucy has always been snarky; she’s always been one to goad people.  But she was never one to be eager to dig into other people’s drama like this!  What the heck is this?  Who the heck is this? Oh fuck it, whatever she’s a lost cause now.

At least they’re actually talking now which is something I can take some solace behind.  And also, yeah really Lucy!  You would’ve known that if you GAVE A DAMN!  

Okay I need to make up a new name for this new Lucy.  Cause I will never stop comparing her to the Lucy character that had been set up, built upon, and established before unless I make some title that draws a clear distinction to say that she isn’t Lucy.  Because this is so fucking weird to hear from Lucy, digging for drama, and stirring the pot directly like this.  Being such an asshole, and blatantly badmouthing Daisy like this behind her back.   This is not Lucy, I refuse to call her that in the horrible fear that this might actually affect my own view of Lucy, and thus my characterization of Lucy in my own comic.  Hmm, I’m thinking…how about Lacie?  Yeah that sounds good.  It’s like it’s ALMOST Lucy, but it’s not.  And it’s easy to remember, like Madison’s name!  Cause you shorten that to Maddie, and it perfectly encapsulates her entire character which is that she’s mad!   And Lacie perfectly encapsulates this character because…

I am a cheeky asshole.

Will say though, this panel got a smile out of me.  So that’s good.

Anyway, Lacie and Paulo are talking about Drunk Daisy, and it’s alright.  There’s some shipping tension and shit, and I’m just like…

Alright, guy get to the point.  At what point am I supposed to lose my shit at this chapter?  I swear to god, it’s January’s fucking birthday.  Don’t ruin this for me.  Gimme the fuckin’ goods.  Gimme something interesting.

Oh shit, Lacie just found out about Abbey strangling Paulo!  Oh shit, this is interesting!  

Awww Lacie is actually showing some fucking compassion to her friend!  Ignoring this being a blatant ship sailing moment, this is actually interesting!  Alright, you have my attention.  Where are we goi-

…

WHAT?!  BITCH ARE YOU FUCKIN’ F’REAL SHAKES RIGHT NOW?! YOUR FRIEND JUST TOLD YOU THAT YOUR OTHER FRIEND FUCKING THROATPUNCHED AND THREATENED HIM! AND YOU IMMEDIATELY JUMP TO GETTING UPSET WITH HIM ABOUT YOUR BROTHER?!  THAT’S THE NEXT THING ON YOUR MIND?!  THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE GONNA BRING UP? RIGHT NOW?!  YOUR BROTHER BEING IN A CAR ACCIDENT?  A CAR ACCIDENT THAT WAS MONTHS AGO!  YOU’RE GONNA GET ON HIM ABOUT THAT, EVEN WHEN YOU KNOW IT WASN’T HIS FAULT, EVEN WHEN YOU KNOW JORDAN WASN’T HURT, EVEN WHEN YOU WERE LITERALLY THERE TO SEE BOTH YOUR BROTHER AND PAULO IN THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!  

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! THIS CHAPTER IS LIKE REAL LIFE LAG ON A FREEWAY!  YOU’RE SWAPPING FROM BEING DEAD STOPPED TO GOING 100MPH TO IMMEDIATELY DEAD STOP AGAIN! WHAT IS THIS?  AND ALSO!

What is this tone shift? Lacie goes from caring and comforting with Paulo, to yelling at him, to being sad.  And I know!  Mood swings! Lacie is fucking broken, that is without a shadow of a doubt, but that doesn’t change the fact that this emotional rollercoaster is whiplashing me so hard my neck has the structural integrity of a wet noodle!  I’ve never seen a tonal shift like this before.  This isn’t just jumping emotions page to page; it’s fucking PANEL TO PANEL! What the fuck is this writing?!

Yes, I know I made a whole rant all about January this week, but bitch I will not pass an opportunity to make a good referential joke.  Also

“Abbey’s not that bad.” LACIE YOU DUMB SLUT!  YOU LITERALLY JUST HEARD HOW HE FUCKING THROAT PUNCHED PAULO! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? Even ignoring that, Lucy (the real one) NEVER really liked Abbey.  In fact, she was the one person who actually rebuffed Abbey’s white knight schtick!

But let’s go back to the comic for a second, because I ain’t done.

That sure is a lot of presumptions for someone who ADMITTED SHE DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON!

BUT SINCE YOU APPARENTLY HAVE THIS ALL FIGURED OUT CAN YOU PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS CHARACTER?  

Who the fuck is this character? At least Paulo is speaking some fucking sense here!  So that’s one character who isn’t completely ruined. But seriously, what the fuck is this? What the fuck is this character?  

Wait!  You know what this character is?  After the recovery she seems to have all the answers?  She’s acting like she knows everything, that she doesn’t.  It’s like she’s trying to fucking make things go right, but she’s just…so…hateful…

Oh, I see what this is. This is like the result someone would get if they heard what I wanted to do with Lucy being proactive, trying to fix her messes, and standing up for herself; tried to recreate it but not knowing me outside of my negative views of the comic, and ignoring the actual adherence I put to the character.  This is what Taeshi thinks I think Lucy should be.  I feel like this is just one big stab at me… And if it ain’t…Then it’s just a stab in the heart to every fan who gave a shit about Lucy.

Also, dat mad tone shift again tho.

… Alright, just one more January reference.

Please just let me have this one, I just fucking love this scene.

BUT ANYWAY

Oh wow, it’s so beautiful. It’s like I’m looking at a real carnival from way up high…with my glasses off.  Alright, I kid I’m not gonna pick on Taeshi for not going all out on one panel, but it is a bit amusing given the dialogue (and knowing Taeshi can definitely make this look much, much better)

But aww isn’t that nice?

Such a nice sweet scene, of Paulo and Lucy comforting each other, and Lucy accepting the embrace.   It’s really sweet and cute, and there is nothing bad for me to speak about here.  Yet.

“What we did?”

Heh well that’s a queer statement.  

Wonder what you meant by that, Lacie.  Would you like to elaborate?  

Please tell the rest of the class...

What. You. Did.

CONTINUED IN PART 2

[carmenlire]

My heart breaks every time you talk about ypur sexuality. You shouldn't have to feel like ypu need to hide an important part of yourself around friends and family. You should be loved regardless of whether you want to spend the rest of your life with a man or a woman or someone in between. I am angry at the world around you for making you feel like your sexuality somehow isn't okay. I'm glad you deal with it through your writing but I wish you didn't need to. I love you, just the way you are.

I want you to know that I’ve read this message like half a dozen times since you sent it yesterday and it just makes me very emotional. Thank you for taking the time to send this really lovely, kind, sweet message. It means the entire fucking world and I appreciate it so, so much.

Now, I wrote quite a bit so I have a read more tag. I hope this isn’t too annoying!

My family is better than some, of course. I don’t think that they would disown me or hurt me. However, it would change things irrevocably and they would look down on me, think me less. I’ve heard the things they’ve said. Sometimes they are all I hear. It is far easier for everyone concerned if I never tell them. So, I will keep packing away all those tiny signs that I am not straight when they visit my apartment and lie when they ask questions that are uncomfortably close to the truth they wouldn’t be able to handle. It is what it is and so it doesn’t really matter that much. I’m just glad that I do have my own place– I felt so stifled in the winter and early spring living with them while I was carrying that.

As for my friends, it’s the same thing lol. They would still accept me– and I don’t really think that it would change anything but– I’m afraid. There would be an adjustment period and it’s that ephemeral feeling like I’m disappointing them– like I should apologize for no longer (did I ever?) fitting in the box that they put me in. Though, honestly, they’d be fools not to pick up the clues that I’ve been throwing out. It’s getting damned hard to keep everything under wraps now that I am becoming accustomed to it and am starting to actually embrace my sexuality.

Thank God for my writing lol. I’ve journaled for damn near a decade but I never knew that writing fiction– using characters and settings that I was already familiar with– could be so therapeutic to get my emotions and thoughts and feelings out there. I use it in a couple of areas and I’m very grateful that I have that outlet.

This is an outlet, too. everyone on tumblr knows (how could they not) and it’s nice to have a forum that I can just yell about being gay and know that no one cares– and quite a lot of people are in the same boat lmao. Twitter, too, is getting to be the same. I’m starting to give much less of a fuck lol.

I’m much better than I was six months ago and much, much better than I was last year or the years before that. I’ve had pretty blatant signs that I was Not Straight for a few years now but I always ignored it or explained it away. I was drinking pretty heavily last winter when the thoughts and confusion were eating away at me. I spent like every waking moment making lists and looking shit up and just generally obsessing over what I was. I eventually had to admit to myself what I was feeling, though, and it helped that my best friend was literally going through the journey. She was (is, always) my rock and I love her so much for always being there and accepting me and being someone who I could talk things through with.

As you probably know, I have days when I am elated that I am gay, that I’m a lesbian. Loving girls is pure and lovely and makes my heart sing. There are days, honestly, when I question it and agonize over it, and hate it, just a little (maybe a lot). I have my family and religion in my ear and it’s just all around very difficult sometimes.

But, it’s getting better. I’m getting better at working through things and it’s a combination of time– Since February, when I officially came out to pumpkin I am So much better. Plus, I have friends on here and twitter that are just the absolute best.

I know this turned into a very long message and I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but I just kinda rambled about everything lol (it has been A Day). Thank you for caring and wanting my world to change. I’ve accepted it, though. If I have anything to say about it, my family will never know. It might be a little bit before I tell my friends– though I have come close a time or two. They just are always talking about boys and who they want to set me up with. It’s disheartening for me– throws everything into stark relief– but I don’t want to ruin something so innocent. 

I have a lot of issues– a lot of insecurity and doubt. Sometimes, I just need to get the fuck out of my head. But, I’m better. I am gay. I could see myself loving a girl– the thought of it actually makes me really, really happy and content and warm. It’s turned into a comfort, the image of a girlfriend, when a year ago I refused to let myself even contemplate such a future.

Again, just thank you so so incredibly much for this message. It means the absolute world and I’ve teared up every time I’ve read this lol. It’s bolstering to know that there are people like you who would accept me, that not everyone is my parents or sister or family in general. Thank you

[rom-e-o]

Souyo: “Where are you going? It’s not safe out there!” ^///^ ty

((Thank you so much @livefreeordie13 for this fun request! This one is a little lengthy/wordy, but I hope it’s an entertaining read!))

Yu had to admit…it was a stupid idea to entire the TV world without asking Chie or Yukiko to tag along. It had been even more idiotic to also not ask Naoto or Kanji to tag along. Rise and Teddie would have also been valuable team members, but they were also absent.

Yu’s only companion was his best friend, and partner, Yosuke Hanamura.

At the moment, the two partners were sprinting as fast as they could through the shadowy labyrinth. Following closely on their heels was a pack of ravenous Shadows, snapping their jaws and scuttling their legs in an attempt to grab the two teens and escort them to an early demise.

“Oh, shit!” Yosuke screamed as they ran, feeling the hot breath from the monsters caress the exposed area of his neck. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! They’re right behind us, bro!”

“Yosuke, keep running!” Yu commanded firmly. “Don’t look back!”

Getting chased by a fleet of monsters had not been part of Yu’s plan.

What the teen had actually intended to do was enter the TV world alone to brush up on his fighting skills and, for lack of a better work, grind experience from weaker enemies in an attempt to brush up on his battle skills.

Following their last confrontation in Naoto’s labyrinth and an absolutely brutal fight with their newest comrade’s immensely persistent Shadow, Yu had a sobering wake-up call in the form of multiple injuries and collapsed party members that the enemies they were facing were becoming stronger and stronger.

If they wanted a fighting chance, Yu knew he would need to do some extra training. As the group leader, he also felt as if it was his sole responsibility to become stronger to protect his team, even if he had to go alone. Honestly, he would have preferred that, since it would have prevented his other allies from danger.

He stocked up on healing items, including a Goho-M for good measure, and planned to jump in secretly.

Yosuke, ever the persistent companion, spotted Yu trying to crawl into the TV at Junes and absolutely forbade him to go alone. The orange-haired teen rushed to have someone cover his shift at the store before jumping in after his partner, no questions asked.

At first, everything went smoothly.

They had landed at their usual entrance point, where the duo and Chie originally met Teddie. It was also close to where Yu remembered fighting Yosuke’s shadow mere months before. It had become somewhat of a nostalgic location.

They had long since grown in both skill and strength to abolish the weaker enemies that typically meandered in the area.

Both had expected to quickly jump in, fight a couple monsters and collect some sought-after loot, then leave.

Neither could have predicted that they would be ambushed.

“Partner, keep running!” Yosuke hollered over his shoulder at Yu, was only a few feet behind him. The Shadows were gaining on them quickly.

At the sight of his partner inching closer to the hoard of monsters, Yosuke’s hand flailed back gracelessly to grab Yu’s outstretched palm to pull him along with increased haste. What Yosuke lacked in strength, he made up for with speed.

“Thank you, Yosuke!” Yu said, almost too tired to even speak.

“Hey, don’t waste your breath on thanking me yet!” Yosuke yelled frantically in reply. “We can’t outrun them the whole way! We have to hide!”

Feeling his legs start to burn from running at full-speed, Yu knew Yosuke was right. They wouldn’t be able to escape at this rate. He quickly scanned the horizon to spot anywhere the duo could temporarily camp out.

After a few frantic glances around the area, he spotted a dark and abandoned storefront tucked away amidst a gathering of unsteady buildings.

Yu sharply yanked on Yosuke’s hand to pull him in the direction of the hideout. “This way!”

Hands still joined, the two sprinted to the building. They sidled down an alleyway and rolled into an abandoned room. Once inside, the flattered their backs against a wall and clapped their hands over their gaping mouths. They tried to remain as silent as death.

For a few moments, it seems the Shadows had lost them.

Then, the sound of breathing began to grow stronger. The two exchanged horrified glances to see that neither one of them was making the loud, wheezing sound. Then, a symphony of moans and groans began to grow louder from just outside the building.

They’d been spotted.

“Oh, crap,” Yosuke said as he heard the group of Shadows scuttle outside the thin walls.

Without noticing, he clenched his partner’s hand tightly.

“We’re really screwed, aren’t we?” he asked, sounding so full of fear that it broke Yu’s heart.

It was because of him that he and Yosuke were in such terrible danger. He should have known better than to try and tackle a challenge without his friends. He knew the consequences of trying to face challenges alone and bear burdens without help, and yet, he’d still acted recklessly.

He couldn’t let Yosuke be a causality of his foolhardiness. He was his best friend, and he’d be damned if any harm befell him.

“No, we’re not,” Yu said confidently. “You’ll be fine, Yosuke.”

Although he sounded self-assured, it was mostly a façade. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how he and Yosuke were going to escape the situation at hand.

There didn’t seem to be a way out. Not unless he did something drastic.

“I’m going out there,” Yu said, brandishing his blade and taking a step forward. He spoke with unshakable determination. “They’ll come after me, and you can run to the exit.”

A frantic hand bunched the back of his blazer and yanked him back with surprising strength. He stumbled back a few paces until he felt Yosuke’s chest bump gently against his back.

“Where are you going?” Yosuke asked in a frantic whisper. “It’s not safe out there!”

“I’ll be a distraction,” Yu said firmly, avoiding eye contact with his friend. He didn’t want to see the look of dread in his friend’s eyes. “Yosuke. I got us into this mess, but I have to make sure you get out alive.”

“No!” Yosuke said, raising his voice louder than he should have. Behind them, a thundering boom shook the entire building. Dust appeared in heavy clouds over their heads as the ancient structure began to shift and creak precariously.

Their heads snapped in the direction of the noise. Another boom shook the walls and inspired Yu to protectively wrap an arm around Yosuke and pull him onto the ground.

“Get down!” Yu screamed just as another shattering thud sent shrapnel of concrete metal into the air. Both collapsed onto the ground as one of the nearby walls began to crack under the pressure of the Shadows ramming their bodies against the structure.

Yu knew that if he didn’t go out there and stop them, the whole building would soon collapse.

“Partner, I’m not letting you go alone,” Yosuke said firmly.

Their hands were still entwined, and Yu could feel Yosuke’s fingers trembling between his own.

“I followed you here myself, and if we need to fight to get out of here, I’ll still follow you,” Yosuke said, determined. “But I’m not leaving you.”

“Yosuke…” Yu whispered, squinting past the cloud of dust that was starting to engulf them. He could barely see the pillars of the building swaying back as forth as precariously as the pendulum of a clock, ready to snap at any second.

Realizing what was to come, Yu slowly released his sword and extended his other hand to grab Yosuke’s other hand. When shifting his grip, he felt the weight of something in his pocket that he hadn’t felt before while they were standing upright.

The hopelessness he felt evaporated in an instant.

The Goho-M.

In his panic, Yu had completely forgotten that he’d brought one into the TV world so that he could leave without the assistance of any of his teammates.

He took the talisman in his hand hastily, gripping it so hard that his fingernails scored deep half-moons in the item.

Less than a second passed before he felt power begin to pulsate and vibrate in his palm.

“Yosuke, don’t let go!” Yu said as he clutched the talisman tightly against his chest. As expected, Yosuke remained close to his partner and held his hand as a light shimmered around them. The ground gave way beneath them as a gold light whisked them away.

The two teleported out just as the building’s supports cracked and the structure caved in with a deafening crash.

A crowd looked on in confusion at the sight before them.

Two teenagers were standing in the Junes electronic department, covered in dust and what might have been flecks of blood, holding onto each other for dear life. They were standing upright, arms wrapped around each other’s waists and leaning against a nearby wall.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” one woman asked in understandable concern.

“Hey, doesn’t that one guy work here?” another teenager asked while scratching his head. “Yeah, that’s the manager’s son!”

As a small group of customers continued to talk and chatter around them, Yu and Yosuke couldn’t do anything but stand still and hold onto each other. Yosuke was still shaking and Yu had to consciously hold himself back from squeezing Yosuke hard enough to leave bruises.

“Yosuke, I’m so sorry,” Yu said again.

In reply to Yu’s serious statement, Yosuke didn’t reply with words. Instead, he laughed good-naturedly and shook his head dismissively at Yu’s sudden stoniness. He sounded exhausted, but there was a veneer of palpable elation present that left Yu feeling puzzled.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked curiously. “Yosuke, I almost got you killed.”

“Yeah, but we’re alive,” Yosuke said. “As usual, you saved us. You saved me.”

“Barely,” Yu replied, eyes narrowing. He wasn’t taking Yosuke’s blatant disregard of his own safety lightly. Just the thought of Yosuke getting injured because of his own zealous needs was enough to leave cracks in Yu’s otherwise surly heart.

“Partner, c’mon…” Yosuke said, easing out of Yu’s arms slightly. He moved away just far enough so that he could look directly into Yu’s eyes. Yosuke lowered his voice slightly and added, “Listen. I followed you, remember? You didn’t force me to do anything. Hell, neither of us would have decided to go into the TV if we would have known about we’d get chased by some crazy…Shadow monster, right?”

“I suppose, but…” Yu stammered in reply, still feeling guilty.

“Besides, what would have happened if you really would have gone in alone like you really wanted?” Yosuke interrogated, voice becoming more serious. “Then something really bad might have actually happened.”

Yu opened his mouth to object, but was unable to find the words he longed to say. He realized that he couldn’t argue with his friend’s logic.

Yosuke had a fair point. Even though Yu had brought a Goho-M into the TV world as a precaution, he’d also completely forgotten about it until the absolute last second. Yosuke had also been the one to grab his hand and pull him along during the chase. Yosuke had also stopped Yu from serving as a distraction at the end of their escape, and upon further reflection, Yu realized the desperate act would have most likely led to his death. He also knew there were many other lesser people that would have accepted the self-sacrificing offer without a second thought. Yosuke had literally pulled him back and forbade him from leaving.

Most likely, his friend had realized even before he had what would have happened if Yu had walked into the fray alone.

At most, Yosuke had saved his life. At the very least, his friend has still stuck by his side and in the face of possible death.

“You’re right,” Yu conceded with a gentle smile. “Yosuke, I’m still so sorry…but I can’t thank you enough. We’ll never know how things would have turned out if you weren’t there to help me. To be honest, I think I’m okay with that.”

Perhaps Yu would have survived on his own, or perhaps he would have perished. Thankfully, he’d never have to find out.

“Aw, c’mon bro,” Yosuke said, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. “I didn’t actually protect you or anything.”

The statement elicited a laugh from Yu as he recalled Yosuke’s graceless flailing and screaming in response to the surprise attack.

“Okay, maybe you didn’t protect me in the traditional sense, but you were there with me when nobody else was,” Yu reasoned, grinning at his companion softly. “I can’t thank you enough for that, Partner.”

Yosuke’s face lit up with a bright pink blush that would have put Inaba’s more gorgeous cherry blossoms to shame, in Yu’s humble opinion. Although the embarrassment on his face was clear, Yu couldn’t help but notice the prideful smirk that also decorated his friend’s face. It filled Yu with a warmth to see his friend, who was usually so stressed or lethargic, now grinning with the utmost confidence.

Yu stared at Yosuke’s beaming face, bright as the most beautiful dawn, and decided to take a risk. He leaned forward and placed a very gentle kiss on Yosuke’s cheek.

The kiss brought Yosuke’s excited rambling to a halt as his freckled cheek became a few degrees hotter under the touch of Yu’s lips.

“A reward,” Yu explained, trying to keep his voice calm under Yosuke’s wide-eyed gaze. “For saving my life.”

For a second, Yosuke was at a complete loss for words. It looked as if the young man had suddenly slipped into a daydream. His eyes were focused on Yu, but his exact area of attention wasn’t as easy to pinpoint. It was as if he was staring at something nobody else could see, but he was still staring at his friend.

A little uncertain of Yosuke’s reaction, Yu proceeded with caution and his signature grace.

“Was the kiss no good?” Yu asked with an innocent tilt of the head. The joke was an attempt to fill the void of silence that stretched between them with some kind of humor.

To his delight, it worked. The off-hand comment seemed to awaken Yosuke from his daze. After snapping awake, his dreamy expression furrowed into a pout as he lifted a fist as punched Yu’s shoulder lightly. While Yosuke’s face seemed to indicate that he was upset, there was no fire behind his movements.

“Yeah, right,” Yosuke groaned, knifing his fingers through his sweat-dampened bangs. The words had no bite to them, and it also didn’t help that Yosuke punctuated his harsh statement with a smile. “You jerk. Even almost dying didn’t change you one bit, huh?”

“I’m afraid not,” Yu said with a chortle as he lifted his hands and dusted off his clothes as best. Then, he clapped his hands together and gestured to a hunched over, and now ridiculously flushed, Yosuke.

“Okay, seriously now,” he asked Yosuke in his signature, even tone. “What do you want as a real reward? My treat.”

The prospect of another reward brought a strange ardor to Yosuke’s eyes, but it immediately calmed when he remembered the two of them were in public. A smirk crossed Yu’s face as he dared to think of what Yosuke might have considered asking for.

“Okay, for once, I think you owe me some steak,” Yosuke said, still blushing a little bit from the kiss. “Just don’t tell Chie that she missed out on meat. Then I’ll be in real danger.”

Yu laughed heartily, adrenaline still throbbing through his veins from the experience. Feeling a little extra daring than usual, he wetted his thumb and reached out to wipe away a smudge of dirt that adorned Yosuke’s lightly freckled face.

“That’s more than a fair trade,” he said with a soft wink. Yosuke rolled his eyes and groaned but didn’t move away. Instead, he lingered ever closer and wrapped an arm around Yu’s shoulders so he could lean on him for support.

Yu not only accepted his friend’s weight, but he also wrapped his own arm about Yosuke’s somewhat more narrow shoulders, helping him walk off the tiredness as much as possible.

Disregarding the remaining onlookers, the couple walked arm-in-arm to the Junes food court.

[vixxscifiwritings]

no such thing as separation

Taekwoon and Sanghyuk’s affections touch across time. Goodbyes are only meant for those who love with their eyes. For those who love with their heart and soul, there is no such thing as separation.

Rating - General

Major Warning - None

Minor Warning - A hella lotta fluff

Prompt - Time Travel

Word Count - 1850

Pairing/Characters - LeoHyuk

Tags - A whole lot of fluff, seriously, it is fluffy af, non chronological timeline, VIXX members appear as minor characters

-x-

“You’re here?” Sanghyuk asks, lifting his head up from the pillow. His eyes are firmly shut and his voice is barely audible. By the end of the question, he is back to dozing off.

“Yeah. Go back to sleep honey” Taekwoon says, running his hands through Sanghyuk’s hair.

“I missed you” Sanghyuk says, shifting and stretching his arms out. Taekwoon takes the cue to shrug the warm layers he is wearing off and gets into bed with the man.

“I missed you too love” Taekwoon says fondly. Sanghyuk has dozed off again and is starting to snore. His hair is messy and his lips parted, loose and relaxed.

The afternoon sun is blocked by the curtains. Orange in colour, even the dim light makes the room warm. Taekwoon is grateful. It’s winter where he was and the warmth is much needed. He feels the chill in his bones seep away as Sanghyuk’s body heat warms him up by mere proximity.

Taekwoon takes a deep breathe and closes his eyes. He still feels disoriented and the break is much necessary.

-x-

“Why did you let me oversleep?” Taekwoon complains as he steps out. It’s morning and he feels guilty for having slept more than fourteen hours away.

“Oversleep?” Hongbin asks in surprise. “You told me not to wake you up since your exams were done.”

“Oh yeah…” Taekwoon says sheepishly, wracking his brains for what timeline he is supposed to be in. He went to sleep in Sanghyuk’s bed just a few hours ago but he woke up with his old roommate and friend Hongbin. And if he is talking about exams then this must be senior year in undergrad.

“I think my last final frazzled my brain” he says with a huff, sitting down on the chair by the kitchen counter.

“I understand that feeling. I am really calculating if I need my degree at the moment” Hongbin laments.

“Well… someday you are going to be a leading expert on the subject” Taekwoon assures him. It isn’t the full truth because he can’t give away the future just like that. But it is genuine enough for it to be reassuring when required. Hongbin smiles at him ruefully before going back to the extra highlighted pages of his thick textbooks.

“Maybe you should get some food. I’m heading to the library for a last revision before my exam” Hongbin tells him. Taekwoon watches him go before slumping. He misses Sanghyuk thought he doesn’t even know the man yet.

-x-

“So… where is Taekwoon?” Hakyeon asks, placing the Thai food on the counter.

“Travelling for work” Sanghyuk tells him. It’s a blatant lie and Sanghyuk knows that Hakyeon can tell. Yet he has no better explanation. He feels a little guilty because he knows Hakyeon would love Taekwoon under normal conditions. But their situation isn’t ordinary and Hakyeon thinks that Taekwoon is a straight up flight risk and negligent boyfriend.

“He’s not around that much, is he?” Hakyeon asks with the raise of an eyebrow.

“He’s busy and I don’t mind” Sanghyuk shrugs.

“But doesn’t it get lonely?” Hakyeon asks curiously.

“He comes home to me at the end of the day. I think that’s enough” Sanghyuk says. Hakyeon doesn’t say more, heading to the kitchen to get plates and cutlery.

-x-

Sanghyuk tries not to overthink Hakyeon’s statement. The question haunts him for days on end.

It’s a struggle to keep himself from feeling this way. It’s unfair to feel alone knowing that Taekwoon doesn’t abandon him by choice but just because his powers are not under his control.

But it does raise more questions. Sanghyuk has this nagging voice at the back of his head which asks him if it is enough. Taekwoon lives his life in leaps and bounds whereas Sanghyuk takes linear chronological baby steps. What if Taekwoon runs so far ahead that Sanghyuk cannot catch up? What if he gets tired of someone so… so constant and unexcitable?

Sometimes Taekwoon tells him of his adventures. He rarely travels beyond his own life span and even more rarely to other places. But he has done so enough for him to have a collection of adventures locked away. Even if he can't tell anyone about it.

Sanghyuk compares it to his life. He barely travels away from the city. Heck he can't afford to take too many days off because he works on an hourly wage and every hour counts if he wants any savings at all.

Why isn't Taekwoon bored of him yet?

The empty house has no answers and the food he was eating suddenly has zero flavour. He wraps up his lunch and shoves into the refrigerator. The mechanical humming of the machine is the only sound that resonates in the tiny room.

-x-

When Taekwoon wakes up, his bones are singing. He recognizes the tattle tale sign that he has travelled again. His senses are on high alert, causing him to sit up from bed abruptly.

This is not the small flat in Seoul that he has lived in for all his life. The room is of different dimensions and is painted a vibrant yellow with drawings on the lower ends. Red and green crayons form a jarring contrast and this confuses Taekwoon.

Has he travelled beyond his lifespan again?

The date on the calendar tells him that he is ten years after where he last was. This must be seven years after meeting Sanghyuk then.

Taekwoon puts his feet off the bed and contemplates if there is a way that he can avoid touching the ground because this weird future might become a reality then.

“Appa! Appa!”

A small child, roughly four years old comes running into the room. Taekwoon panics. He is in the wrong house for sure and now he has been discovered. The view from the window doesn't look very high up. He can always jump out and never return to this district and just let the household assume he was a thief.

“Jiwoo! Your father is asleep!” Sanghyuk admonishes, following the small child into the room.

“Appa awake!” the child claims, holding his hands up so that Taekwoon can pick him up. Taekwoon hesitantly picks the child up and Sanghyuk makes a guilty face. When Taekwoon looks at Sanghyuk all of it clicks into place.

He's the father.

Sanghyuk is also the father.

This is their child.

They have a family.

Taekwoon's heart swells and is in sure danger of bursting from joy and pride. He has a family. He has a family with Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk. The man he loves. The man he is afraid he will lose because he is never around and surely Sanghyuk deserves better than an absentee boyfriend. But they have a family. They made it.

A shrill squeal is heard as Taekwoon squishes his son. His Jiwoo. Taekwoon hugs him tightly and coos at him. He even lifts Jiwoo and pretends to throw him up and around till Sanghyuk intervenes to scold him for how reckless he is being. But Taekwoon will be damned if he can stop smiling through the entire act.

He pulls Sanghyuk into bed too, just so that he can cuddle his family. His family. He hopes the elation he feels at the moment will never fade.

Sanghyuk picks up on the fact that something is different. Something is not quite right with this set up and the way he is behaving. Taekwoon gets a look saying they will be talking soon. That hasn't changed over the years and this makes Taekwoon smile even more. In return for Sanghyuk frowning at him, Taekwoon kisses the corner of Sanghyuk’s lips and Jiwoo giggles.

-x-

It doesn't take long for Sanghyuk to figure out that Taekwoon mostly time travels when he is asleep. He rarely disappears during the day or when he is awake. But there are multiple occasions where he goes to bed with Taekwoon and wakes up alone.

Taekwoon is never gone for more than five days at maximum. It's a limit that they haven't tested and Sanghyuk hopes they won't. Going to bed alone is still terrible, no matter how heartwarming it is to wake up next to Taekwoon unexpectedly.

When Sanghyuk goes to bed that night, he holds onto the hope that Taekwoon will be back in the morning. His five days are almost up and he really wants Taekwoon home with him now.

Being woken up with slow kisses is a feeling he can get used to.

“Why are you so affectionate today?” Sanghyuk asks playfully. It's the middle of the night and he figures Taekwoon must have just returned.

“I love you” is all Taekwoon says, before trapping him between his legs and kissing him. He kisses his lips, jawline and cheeks. Any place he can get his lips on.

Sanghyuk doesn't know what to make of the increased affections. “Did you miss me so much?” he asks, dreading the answer.

“I always miss you” Taekwoon replies honestly. “And I don't want to live without you anymore. I want to get married and for us to have an army of children in a house in the suburbs.”

“At least take me to dinner first” Sanghyuk replies teasingly.

The playful tone hides a deep insecurity. Sanghyuk has been thinking. After spending days wondering, he has come to the same realizations as what Taekwoon easily put into words. A life without Taekwoon is meaningless because it would be a life without love.

But he was always worried that this realization came too fast. That Taekwoon may not be in the same space and state of mind. They've only known each other for a very short time and yet life when he didn't know Taekwoon feels like a lifetime ago.

But Taekwoon is serious, he realizes. “A family is a big responsibility” Sanghyuk replies. “And with our situation… I don't even know how we'll handle one child. Much less an army.”

“I took the long way home this time” Taekwoon says carefully. “I went to the past and then to our future.”

“What did you see?” Sanghyuk asks curiously.

“We had a family. We were happy” Taekwoon tells him. It's a vague and generic answer and Sanghyuk knows that Taekwoon won't speak more. He rarely gives Sanghyuk details from the future lest they affect it for the worse.

“Baby steps” he breathes, more for himself than Taekwoon. The realization leaves him reeling. It's a lot to take in.

“I promise to always stay by your side. Even if I have to leave occasionally” Taekwoon swears.

“We can work around that” Sanghyuk agrees. They settle into a sober embrace. Taekwoon's hold on him slackens.

“Do you hate me for never being around?” he asks. It's a loaded question with no easy answer. He is well aware that this question is entirely contradictory to his earlier actions.

“No” Sanghyuk says after a prolonged moment. “I don't hate you for it.”

“Do you love me?” Taekwoon asks childishly.

“Enough to have a family someday” Sanghyuk says wittily and the two of them laugh.

-The End-

[ritebeforeyoureyes]

Confessions

I officially suck at juggling two fics at once and I apologise that this took so long to write! Also, there’s a tad bit of smut x

Masterlist – Plot: Reality kicks back in and the honeymoon phase of Tom and Zendaya’s reunion ends.

Confessions (Chapter Twenty Seven)

As time went on and Zendaya and Tom became firmly embedded in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, their friends got used to it. In fact, they were kind of happy about it. The eye rolling came to a minimal, the innuendos came to an end and everyone just let the two go at it. Because, this was a new sight for Zendaya and Tom. There was no added stress of worrying about the paparazzi or Zendaya’s stalker. They were able to be young and carefree and normal and as their friends, the likes of Harrison, Darnell and Jacob were happy for the couple. They were so happy in fact, that the trio had decided to leave a room and uproot so that Tom and Zendaya could be romantic and mushy in privacy.

“We’re such good friends.” Darnell mocked as he flopped onto a couch, his eyes trying to rid itself of the burning image of Tom’s tongue down Zendaya’s throat.

“Trust me, mate.” Haz dove onto the seat beside Darnell. “Kinda makes me realise how single I am though.”

“You’re telling me.” Jacob added, with a hint of wistfulness in his voice. “But come on, bro, there must be someone you’re feeling right now?” All eyes moved to Haz who just stared back at them in confusion. There was no one he liked or was remotely interested in. “Elle, perhaps?”

“What?” Haz practically choked on his own spit. “Tom’s ex-girlfriend, Elle?”

“Yeah, come on, homie. You two have been spending loads of time together.” Darnell pointed out, him and Jacob sharing a knowing look that baffled Harrison completely.

“Apparently, she got some work down here for a bit, I’ve just been helping her get settled but that’s it...” Haz raised his arms up in surrender, a seriousness clouding his expression. “She’s cool and all but, I would never-“  

“Tom wouldn’t mind, though would he?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Haz knew and valued bro code to its fullest. He would never go there with Elle and he didn’t want to. He had never seen the girl in anything other than a platonic light. “Me and Elle are just friends.” The harsh tone in Haz’s voice was enough to make Jacob and Darnell drop the topic.

“Do you think they’re having sex on my couch?” To break the awkward silence that enveloped the room, Darnell made the comment that made the trio burst out laughing.

And it wasn’t just Darnell, Harrison and Jacob asking questions about Tom and Zendaya’s sex life. It didn’t take long for the general public to become intrigued by their relationship too. The rumours had started way before filming Spider-Man: Homecoming but, suddenly, the number of articles and blatant interest had increased threefold. The little interactions between the two on social media didn’t help control the flames and for once in her life, Zendaya didn’t seem to care all that much. She was elated, after what felt like an eternity, she would be damned if she let paparazzi ruin her happiness.

But, like life had taught her, happiness was an occurrence … not a continuity. And after weeks of domesticated bliss with her boyfriend, reality started to kick back in for Zendaya and Tom. Tom was preparing to head to Canada to start shooting Chaos Walking whilst Zendaya was getting all the details about her first leg of The Greatest Showman promotion tour.

“We start in London.” Zendaya nudged Tom’s side playfully, referring to the first stop in their extensive promotion tour. They were going to be apart for months once Tom left for Canada in a few days and Zendaya was already planning their reunion. “Do you think we’ll have time to hang out with your family?”

After getting back together with Tom, Zendaya and Nikki’s relationship had changed completely. There was a newfound appreciation for each other and from it, stemmed a beautiful relationship. Nikki appreciated how mature and how caring Zendaya was of Tom and Zendaya just adored how much Nikki cared for her son’s wellbeing. They would occasionally send one another a text; they’d even planned a few dinner dates for when they were scheduled to be in the same city again.

“Hmm.” Tom came up behind Zendaya, wrapping a bulky arm around her slim waist. He rested his chin against her shoulder and let his nose nuzzle her side. “I like the sound of that.” As Zendaya leaned into his touch readily, Tom took a hesitant step back; Zendaya was burning a furious fever. “Babe why are you so hot?” Using his hands on her shoulders, Tom forced Zendaya to turn around and placed a palm against her clammy forehead.

“I’m not a doctor, Thomas,” Zendaya joked, leaning forward to kiss him. “But I’m sure you could make me feel better.” With a teasing wink, Zendaya slid her fingers into the belt loop of Tom’s jeans and tugged him into her. With Tom’s departure impending, Zendaya spent every waking, breathing moment with her hands on him. Sometimes she just sat in his lap or caressed his hair … other times she was suddenly desperate for him, all of him.

“Z, you’re really hot.” Tom frowned, edging away from the kiss. He was worried for her health, but it seemed Zendaya’s mind was elsewhere. She was biting her lip and staring at him in a lustful haze, one that Tom was trying his absolute hardest to ignore.

“Well maybe I should do this then.” With no hesitation, Zendaya slipped out of her tank and dropped it aimlessly on the floor; she was wearing no bra.

“Z.” Tom groaned, the blood rushing straight to his loins. Her fever momentarily forgotten, Tom couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch her. Now he wasn’t sure if it was her fever or just her that made heat sparks fly through him.

“Kiss me.” Tom pulled his shirt over his head before immediately lunging for Zendaya’s hungry mouth. The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue; dirty and fulfilling. He used his hands to clumsily swipe at the table behind them, documents from Zendaya’s agent flying across the room. Once the table was clear, Tom hiked a scantily clad Zendaya on top of it, her lengthy legs encircling his waist. Their kisses are sloppy now, desperate for more of each other in that one given moment. And it wasn’t not enough, Tom was ripping at her leggings and she was visibly struggling with his belt.

They were like virgins who had no clue what they were doing until, finally, finally, they were both naked and exposed.

Indulgently, Tom felt up her thigh but Zendaya can’t stop from begging, pleading him to hurry. Her sex drive was as hurried as the day leading up to Tom’s departure and Tom couldn’t remember the last time they’d taken it slow. Their rounds of love making had become a frenzy of teeth, tongue and quick thrusts. But, honestly, Tom wasn’t complaining. It was refreshing almost; the change they needed before they spent months apart. In response to his now speedy actions, whimpers of his name and ‘oh God’ left Zendaya mouth as he pushed himself into her slowly, sheathed inside of her warmth. Tom took a moment to savour the feeling of her, his heavy gaze silently telling her how much he loves her. She nodded in response, her I love you too.

Then came the rush, the bright white light that had them both panting and gasping for air; their bodies one on top of her dining room table.

“That was-“ Zendaya silenced Tom with another kiss, his libido dying down as he registered her burning up skin again. “Babe, you seriously need to see a doctor-“

“I will, I will, I promise.” Zendaya rested her forehead against Tom’s, her eyes meeting his. She loved that he cared so much about her; her heath, her self-esteem, her sex life. Tom never hesitated to make Zendaya feel like a Queen and in that moment, she started to miss him. He hadn’t even left yet, and his absence was looming over her like a dark cloud. “Don’t go.” Her words were barely a whisper, a bit of optimism that she knew would never be true.

“I wish I didn’t have to.” Tom replied solemnly. He hated that he had to leave, and he hated it even more so knowing she didn’t want him to. The past few weeks had been unbelievably blissful, and Tom didn’t want to shatter the illusion of their honeymoon phase. He wanted to wake up with her tucked into his side, smell her horrid attempt at making toast, be the last person she looked at before she drifted to bed. But unfortunately, their jobs didn’t allow them that … they weren’t allowed normal.

“I know.” Zendaya whispered back. It was the brutal truth in the world of Hollywood; their careers would always come first.

“I’ll be in London when you’re there, okay?” Zendaya just nodded and Tom kissed the top of her head with a sudden sadness enveloping him. This was the longest that they’d be apart since meeting and that thought hadn’t really sunken in until now. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

If you enjoyed this piece and would like to help further me and my work, please support me whilst I try to raise money to do a ‘walk for charity.’ The money you donate will help create awareness for cancer research and will allow me to have added support throughout my journey. It is one hundred per cent a voluntary pursuit and greatly appreciated, however, your lovely comments and votes are always welcomed too. Thank you for being the greatest: https://ko-fi.com/D1D072V0