#Speaking of asking guys did you know the secret link has a certain thing open. Hey g (I’m so normal)

[cowardlybean]

Hi this is MalkyTop from ao3 I know I just wrote a long-ass comment on recollections and I sorta feel weird adding more to it there so I’m sending an ask instead, because! I am shaking the bars of my cell anyways since now im convinced that the stuff with reigen is heavily connected to Mogami I wonder if mogami’s “return” (chapter 2) is related to a certain evil spirit showing up at the office? After all they have previous history and dimple had just shown up. Anyways I am gnawing on this I love puzzling things out I want to get a good grade in recollections.

HELLO FIRST OFF I JUST WANNA SAY TYSM FOR BEING INTERESTED IN MY STORY!!!!! IT MAKES ME SO MUCH MORE EXCITED TO KEEP WORKING ON IT!!!!!!!!!

Mogami definitely plays a role in this story (if it wasn’t already obvious) though most of that role is gonna be shown in the next section! Not just through Reigen’s journaling either :3 I will say though! The author of the secret link is a canon character from Mob Psycho, so keep that in mind >:3c

APART FROM THAT I cant say much for the sake of not spoiling but about the plant spirit from S2 EP1 this is so embarrassing to admit but I did. Kinda rush that entry </3 To Reigen it was hardly any special exorcism apart from Mob learning something new, but to my readers the broccoli seeds are what is important! IM HEAVILY RESTRAINING FROM GIVING A HINT HERE ACK

but anyway thank you so much for theorizing and having fun with my fic!!! It makes it so much more fun to write :D

Read Recollection Here!

[trashyswitch]

Golden Freddy's Tickly Torment

Cassidy (Golden Freddy) remembers something from her childhood that proves super useful on William. She also finds out some body & Ghost connections and some bodily functions that William now lacks.

This fanfic has implied torture. But, there is a secret that makes the torture a little easier for the reader to handle.

This fanfic prompt was suggested by @trashylever on Tumblr. Link

I hope you enjoy!

Golden Freddy was sitting with William in the closet that he had been locked in for a decade now. Throughout all those years...William suffered at the hands of Golden Freddy. The Golden bear counterpart of Springtrap had been possessed by one of the victims of William’s kill streak: Cassidy. And Cassidy was determined to make William suffer for as many years as she can, so William regrets every second he took killing those innocent kids. While Charlie was looking after all the ghosts and protecting them from the hands of William, Cassidy was busy driving William insane in as many ways as she could…

Right now, Cassidy was doing what she normally did: taking his ear off, and talking some more into the separated ear. She kept on rambling and rambling and rambling...There was never a second of quiet. The only time Cassidy would take a break was to allow William the chance to not drown her out. By the time she stopped talking, William had turned the rambling into mumbling.

But then...it went silent…

Too silent…

...waaaay too-

“Oh yeah! I remember one time I was going to my friend’s house for a play date-”

Aaaaand there it was again. And again...and a-fucking-gain.

“And she wanted me to give her the game boy! But I didn’t wanna stop playing the game! So she decided to tickle me until I let go of it. I managed to last 10 minutes straight before I finally let go! Isn’t that amazing?!” She told him.

“Ugh…” He mumbled.

“I’ll take that as a big, fat, definite yes.” She started poking his arm.

William was about to smack her across the face. That would easily shut her up. It certainly did the trick when-

“Saaay, speaking of tickle-tickle-tickling, were you tickled as a kid?” She asked.

……….Wait what?

“No. Why would I be?” William lied.

“Everyone gets tickled at least once, William. How often were you ever tickled? How ticklish even are you? Did your Mom tickle you? Or your Dad? Or did both of your parent’s tickle you? Did you have an older brother or sister? DId they tickle you? Were you able to fight back? Or did you just take it like a strong boy?” Cassidy kept asking question after question.

William began to grow uncomfortable with what they were talking about now. Everytime she said the word...It gave him butterflies in his stomach. It made him wanna cower. It made him wanna...smile from pure embarrassment.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost...OH! WAIT!” Cassidy joked. “But seriously, you looked scared…” Cassidy admitted. “Are you scared of how long you’ll have to endure this evil, insanity test? Or are you scared the tiiiiickle monster’s gonna getcha?” Cassidy teased.

Oh no...Not that word again...and don’t bring the tickle monster into this…

“Do you know that a tickle monster creeps in this very room?” Cassidy teased, possessing Freddy to move herself onto the Golden animatronic’s kneecaps. Then, Cassidy’s ghost zoomed out of Golden Freddy’s mouth with a big smile on her face. “Did you know this tickle monster is waiting? Waiting for the peeeerrrfect time to strike~! Watching...Observing your every move...Waiting for the day it can slip out of the hiding spot and tickle you until you’re a tomato red blob of giggles!” Cassidy teased.

William was mentally dying at this point. The teasing was killing him suuuper slowly. He knew the tickle monster wasn’t really a thing. He knew the tickle monster was really Cassidy. He knew that really well. And yet...The fact that we was sitting with one of the most vengeful ghosts on the face of the earth, legitimately scared him. With how much she’s been doing already, it’ll be impossible to predict just where she was going with this...

But then William realized something: he can’t actually be tickled! He’s no longer connected to his human body, and animatronics don’t have nerves! So it should make sense!

...Right?

“IIIII wonder...where are the sources of this evil killer’s ticklish spots?” She asked casually. “You gonna tell me? Or do I have to tickle you myself to find out?” She asked evilly.

Wiliam sighed. “You can’t tickle me.” William told her.

“Oh I can’t? Well:” Cassidy possessed Golden Freddy again and flopped the Freddy Fazbear body right onto Springtrap’s.

“AAH! CASSIDY!” William shouted.

She ignored him and started scratching at his ribs with the golden animatronic’s fat, shiny fingers. William’s eyes just about bulged out of his skull as the butterflies in his stomach increased ten fold. “C-CASS-”

“Yeeeeeessss?” Cassidy moved the Golden Freddy thumbs into the pockets of the springlock suit and dug deeply into the hips.

OH NO! SHE COULD ACTUALLY TICKLE HIM! TALK ABOUT UNLUCKY! NOW SHE WAS GONNA USE IT AGAINST HIM! NOOOOO!

William wiggled around as much as he could from under Golden Freddy. He tried to prevent himself from laughing by holding his breath. He even unpossessed the springtrap suit to try and prevent the ticklishness from getting to him. But it still tickled like a son of a gun! Only now, William was wiggling around in ghost form and holding his hip while doubling over.

“Ooooooh! Interesting!” She reacted as she moved veeeery slowly up the ribs.

William desperately tried to tell her to not go there, due to just how ticklish it was when he was alive. But Cassidy ignored his begging words and moved closer and closer to his special little breaking point.

But as Cassidy was reaching a bad spot, William realized something horrific:

With William not possessing the springlock’s limbs, CASSIDY WAS ABLE TO MOVE THEM AROUND AS SHE PLEASED! WITH NO RESISTANCE WHATSOEVER!

“NO! NOOO! CASSY PLEASE!” William pleaded and reached his ghost arms out. “Sorry Mr. Afton…” She smirked with the look of pure devilish evil in her eyes… “But I’m not Cassidy anymore…”

It was then that Cassidy’s hand grabbed William’s hand and lifted the arm out of the way of the vulnerable spot.

“LEHEHET MEHEHEHE GOHOHOHO!” William shrieked as he anticipated ticklish fingers in his terrible armpits.

But...nothing.

Just...Nothing.

William was scared to open his eyes…

He accidentally let out a little chuckle. “C-Cass...what-”

[Let’s see how much pain you can stand.] The Golden Freddy’s voice declared…

then, Cassidy touched down on both armpits and dug deep into them. Every crevasse, every wire, every steel bit in the armpit...was touched and tickled for at least 5 minutes each.

“NOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” William finally let out his true, strongest belly laugh he had ever mustered. And it did NOT sound like that fake little fluffy laugh William used while with Cassidy.

This laugh was HEAVY. This laugh was DEEP. This laugh was ABSOLUTELY HYSTERICAL. It sounded slightly like pathological laughter! It even sounded slightly joker-ish at certain points! It was all over the place too! It was like he had 10 different laughs he was switching to every 8 seconds or so! It was surprising and strangely satisfying.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP STAHAHAP IHIHIHI’M GOHOHOHONNA DIHIHIHIHIE!” William begged.

Cassidy giggled. “Oh you silly goose! You’re already dead!” Cassidy joked.

All of the memories of people tickling him and reacting to his laugh and ticklish spots came flooding back into his head all at once. From Henry tickling him many times to get his glasses back, to his wife tickling him during her playful moods, to even Michael tickling him as a 9 year old! Would you believe that Henry’s wife even had a chance to tickle the poor guy? Yyyyup! She did, and she never did stop reminding him of it.

Cassidy moved her hands down to the middle to lower ribs to lessen his crazy laughter. William’s laughter turned calmer, and surprisingly adorable rather than concerning. “There! Now you sound a little less insane.” Cassidy told him.

William ignored her and only thanked the lord above for giving him a break.

But the break only lasted a few seconds before Cassidy explored down to his stomach and belly button.

William squeaked and really quickly possessed the animatronic body to move Cassidy off him. But with the tickling weakening him dramatically, he couldn’t do nearly as much as he thought he would be able to do. Cassidy settled for a compromise by laying partly on the springtrap’s side, and partly on the floor. With this decided, Cassidy decided to still attack his tummy.

This caused squeaks and squeals to leave William’s mouth. Then, wouldn’t you believe, giggle-filled laughter quickly filled the closet room. “Ooooooh! A whole new set of laughter! I wonder which one’s your real laughter…” Cassidy poked into the equivalent of William’s belly button…

William screeched and covered up the springtrap mouth. “MM MM! NOWAY!” He warned.

“No way? More like no way you’re getting out of this! So you minus well accept your fate.” Cassidy told him.

William whined as he wiggled around and kicked the empty air.

“Ooooh! Should I be going for those kicking feet of yours?” She asked.

OH NO…

He shook his head.

“Or perhaps I should go for your neck~” She asked.

William looked down and whimpered. His feet were way too ticklish, but his neck was the most embarrassing ticklish spot out of all of them! It made him all blushy, made him giggle and snort, and if he were a cat, he would most definitely purr. Even as a human, it made him dissolve into a puddle of giggles and titters.

Cassidy brought her hands towards the neck and wiggled them eagerly. “Kitchy kitchy kooo~” She teased.

William quickly decided to unpossess the animatronic suit. As much as he appreciated the feeling of moving the physical limbs around, William knew he’d need to move around and wiggle more the moment his neck was tickled even the slightest. So, he did just that and covered his ghost mouth.

“Oooooh! I see the murderer decided to finally come out of his shell! What a nice surprise!” Cassidy teased. It was then that she finally touched down onto his neck.

William squealed and rolled left and right as he floated in the air. His ghost had curled into the fetal position and his laughter was another octave higher. It sounded more like squeaky giggles rather than actual laughter. William definitely had a large variety of laughter that came with the man. No wonder everyone wanted to tickle him! They wanted to slightly gamble their trust away to see what type of laughter they could get out of William that day!

It didn’t take long for William to start snorting and covering up his mouth. Even Cassidy had to admit: He was kinda cute like this. Not love kinda cute, but definitely toddler kinda cute. He had that sort of vibe to him when he was tickled.

Cass actually had to remind herself for a second that William was a child killer and a manipulator. It was the strangest thing.

William’s laughter had begun to sound tiring. He sounded too mentally tired to really keep laughing, even though his body was forcing him to.

So, Cass enjoyed it for a few minutes. She found it interesting that William could be left in such a weak state through such a silly strategy. But, it worked and that’s all that mattered to Cassidy.

The animatronic slowed its fingers down and removed them from William’s neck. William breathed heavily and deeply to try and calm down. Though, Cassidy found this strange. His lungs should be a different scenario thanks to his ghost form and possessed state. William being able to be tickled and touched made sense. But lung capacity as a ghost? That didn’t make sense at all.

Was William faking it?

Cassidy decided to try something out to answer her question. She moved her fingers to William’s armpits and smirked. If he was really this tired, his laughter will be breathy, whiny, and weak.

Cassidy touched down-

“OHOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOHOHO! CAHAHAHAHASS COHOHOHOME OHOHOHOHON!” William screamed.

There’s your answer! He was definitely faking!

“Such a liar. You weren’t really getting tired...You were just trying to get me to sympathize with you and stop!” Cass called him out. “Now quit being a lying baby and act like a man!” Cassidy dug her fingers deeper into William’s armpit.

William SCREAMED and completely lost all his composure at this point. He couldn’t hide anything with his tickles being this strong! It was like trying to hide a huge, bright flamingo in the middle of a bedroom. EVERYONE’S EYES WILL GRAVITATE TOWARDS IT!

“There we go! Look at you being so brave and strong! Doesn’t it feel good?” Cassidy asked.

William shook his head.

“Is this really too much for you to handle? Would you like me to stop?” She asked.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! STAHAHAHAHAHA!” William’s laughter was all over the place and not even close to going silent.

It was this observation that fully confirmed Cassidy’s suspicions:

William has no lung capacity anymore.

“Hmmm…” Cassidy thought for a moment and stopped her fingers. William’s laughter lessened dramatically as he breathed...rather calmly for being tickled for potentially hours. Being in the closet meant that they both had no clue what time it was or how far along the years had gone.

William, with his newfound strength, pushed Cassidy off him. He was angry that Cassidy had brought him down to such a ‘weak’ state. How dared she make him laugh like that! How dare she figure out his tricks! And how dare she tickle him beyond the average human limits! It was a good thing he didn’t really have much lung capacity anymore! Or else he would be passed out cold from all the loss of oxygen.

Cassidy smiled and sat in silence for a few minutes as she processed the ticklish laughter. Then, she clicked a button on the Golden Freddy suit and giggled as recordings of William’s laughter and giggles filled the room.

Oh no she didn’t…

She recorded ALL OF IT?!

William growled and tackled his golden counterpart to the ground.

“HOW DARE YOU-” William yelped and lowered his face as his belly button was poked and tickled.

“Nice try, Mr. Will…but you should know something very important:” Cassidy’s voice changed to the animatronic’s voice...and the animatronic’s eyes glowed as she began to say the words:

[I always get the last laugh…]

The last thing William heard was a deep chuckle...

Does this fact about William (No lung capacity = no need for breaks) make the torment a little easier to handle? Let me know! I'm trying to find ways to not really go down the road of tickle torture unless it's fully justified.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Lovestruck and Lipstick Stained

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

synopsis: you and Tom don’t feel entirely out of characters after playing lovers in the MCU

thank you to @snowrosestonight​ for the idea!

Masterlist

“Well hey there Spiderman.”

You walked up to Tom at one of the many photoshoots of the press tour with a cheeky smile. He was dressed in his suit, a sight you had grown to love very dearly. Your time as Gwen Stacy in the MCU had been incredibly memorable, all thanks to Tom.

“Hey yourself.” Tom folded his arms and clocked your outfit, a white t shirt with Spider-Man’s mask in the shape of a heart and skin tight jeans. “Nice jeans. I think I can see the spare change in your pocket.”

You looked down at your jeans and pointed your foot, flexing the cherry red heels they’d put you in and laughed.

“I’m sure they’re no tighter than the suit. And at least I can go to the bathroom without a team to help me.” You teased him as you poked out your tongue.

“Don’t disrespect the suit.” Tom pretended to be insulted. “I recall saving your life a few times in it.”

“I mean no disrespect. Honestly, I never get tired of seeing you in that suit. It’s like a rush of endorphins every time.” You chuckled as you ran your fingertips down his arm. Tom couldn’t feel it through his many layers of material, but the act alone sent shivers down his spine.

“That’s how I felt when I saw that T-Shirt. Seriously, did they mold that to your body?” He teased as he eyed your ridiculously tight shirt. It was a classic look MJ had worn in the comics, and the wardrobe department wanted to pay homage to it. You had felt a little self conscious with the form fitting the ensemble was, but Toms comments had taken the edge off.

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” You shrugged playfully.

“Well you look amazing, darling. You should wear this more often.” Tom complimented as his eyes took their time going down your body. You stepped closer to him and fixed some stray hairs of his that had fallen out of place.

“You know, I just might.” You smiled as you touched up his hair. A content smile rested on Toms lips as comfortable silence settled between you.

“Are you two ready to go?” A set assistant came up to you, taking your attention away from each other.

“I think we are.” You answered for Tom and yourself.

“Let’s get started.”

You were lead onto set and given a mark to stand on. The flash of the camera wasn’t something you were used to yet, but having Tom directly at your side calmed your nerves.

You popped one of your legs up and gave the camera a sultry smile as you clung to Tom. There was a wind machine blowing your hair back as you posed, only adding to the magic. You switched up your face and position but never took your hands off Tom, and he did the same.

“Tom, can you put your hand in Y/n’s back pocket?” One of the photographers asked between shots.

“Is that okay with you?” Tom asked quietly, so only you could hear as he looked at you for permission.

“I prefer it.” You told him as you gave his face a once over. Tom smirked and held your gaze as he slid his hand into your back pocket, letting the cameras capture it. You winked at him before turning your attention back to the photographer, posing for a few more minutes before you took a break.

“Everyone take five. Great work guys.” The photographer smiled at the two of you before walking off set. You slowly untangled yourself from Tom, chuckling shyly as he slid his hand out of your pocket.

“That wasn’t too hard.” You joked as you walked towards your chairs on the set. Four women immediately came over to touch up your hair and makeup as you and Tom spoke.

“Hard? Looking pretty is my day job.” Tom scoffed and pretended to flip hair over his shoulder.

“And looking like I’m in love with you is mine.” You tweaked an eyebrows as someone fixed your hair.

“You do it so well.” Tom boasted. “Best I’ve ever seen, really.”

“Well, you know. I get lots of practice.” You shrugged casually. “And when looking at such a pretty face, it’s not that hard to look in love.” You teased him as you squished his cheeks. Tom laughed and pushed you off, smiling in gratitude at the hair and makeup people as they left.

“I, uh, I got pretty familiar with your back pocket today.” Tom said, keeping his yes down as he took a step towards you.

“Yeah.” You looked away as you felt your cheeks flush. “Not many get to say they’ve had that experience.”

“I better thank my lucky stars then, huh?” Tom folded his arms, giving you a cocky smile. You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes at him, not wanting him to get the upper hand.

“Yeah.” You spike softly, your breath fanning his face. “You better.”

With his chest touching yours now, Tom opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the set assistant.

“Are you guys ready to continue?” He asked, not realizing what he was interrupting. You and Tom shared own last look, heavy with disappointment, as you stepped away from each other and nodded.

“You got the lipstick, right?” He asked you. You looked at Tom in confusion, only to find him a blushing mess.

“Lipstick?” You asked.

“You’re gonna cover Tom’s face in lipstick stains for the second half of the photo shoot.” The assistant informed you, and you immediately understood the blush. Your cheeks flames up in a crimson of their own as you realized you’d have to kiss your best friend again after so many months without it.

“I got it.” Tom bashfully held up tube of red lipstick, avoiding eye contact with you. You stared at the tube, your mind drifting back to the long days on set where you and Tom, or Peter and Gwen, would kiss for hours until you got the perfect take.

“Awesome. Do you need any help Y/n?” The assistant asked you, snapping you out of your daze. You blinked a few times as you came back to reality and shook your head.

“I think I can manage.” You squeaked.

“Great. See you guys in a few.”

The assistant left you alone to get ready, a nervous flutter going through you as he left.

“Did you know about this?” You eyed Tom skeptically as you took the tube of lipstick from him.

“Oh, darling.” Tom snorted. “It was my idea.”

Your jaw dropped as he shrugged smugly and gave him a playful shove.

“You don’t quit, do you?” You clicked your tongue as you opened the lipstick, begging to apply it in the mirror as you held eye contact with him.

“No I do not.” He said proudly as he took a seat in his chair. “You said my face was pretty, right? Come make it even prettier.”

Tom beckoned you over with his fingers, making you gulp as you finished putting on your lipstick.

“Okay.” You waltzed over you him, dragging your finger along the side of your mouth to clean up the line. You put a knee between Toms legs and propped yourself up, leaning over him as you leaned your hands on each of his armrests.

“I think I’ll put one here.” You spoke softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Here.” Corner of the mouth.

“Both cheeks.” You narrated in a hushed tone as you pressed a kiss to either sides of his face. You could feel how hot his skin was under your lips, and it made you smile.

“This is already my favorite photo shoot.” Tom chuckled as you reapplied your lipstick and placed kisses along his hairline.

“Me too.” You mumbled before covering his neck and jawline in the red lipstick stains. After his neck was decently covered, you leaned back to admire your work. Tom looked at you with heavy eyelids, swimming in bliss as he drummed his fingers on your hips.

“One more.” You decided. “To top it off.”

You leaned in and placed a searing kiss to his lips, leaving a bright red mark in your wake.

“Good call.” Tom gave you a dopey smile one you pulled away.

“Come on.” You got up and took his hand. “Let’s go get our picture taken.”

~

“Wait, look.” You stopped walking to your hotel on your way back from the photoshoot when a certain building caught your eye. Tom stopped with you, as your arm had been linked through his.

“What are we looking at? A tattoo shop?” He looked at you curiously.

“Yeah. I was thinking of getting one to commemorate my time as Gwen Stacy.” You admitted as you shyly scratched behind your ear.

“What did you want to get?”

“Nothing crazy or anything.” You shrugged. “I just want something small to represent my role.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Tom asked as you walked inside the shop.

“About a million.” You chuckled. “That’s my problem. I can’t decide.”

“Well what’s your favorite scene?” He asked you as he browsed the artwork on the walls of the shop.

“I like when Peter sets up a picnic on the giant web. It’s my favorite scene visually and I, uh, I liked shooting it.” You looked at him timidly through your lashes. It was a great day on set, getting to cuddle into Toms side for eight hours straight. It held fond memories for the both of you.

“So there you go.” Tom half smiled. “Get a web.”

“You think I should?” You wanted his approval before you went through with anything.

“Yeah. You know how I know it’s the right move?” He raises his eyebrows.

“How?”

“That’s my favorite scene too.” He winked at you and pulled you towards the reception desk.

“Then I’ll do it.” You decided. “Under one condition, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I want you to do it.” You told him.

“Darling, I don’t know the first thing about tattoos.” He warned you.

“I don’t care.” You shook your head. “You were my partner in this and if it’s gonna be on my body forever, I want you to do it. It has to be you.”

“I would be honored, love.” Tom smiled softly. “Just remember how much you love me as your partner when it turns out horrible.”

“That will just add to the charm.” You shrugged it off, feeling confident in your decision.

“Are you sure they’ll let me do it on you?” He wondered as the receptionist came to the desk.

“We’re celebrities. They’ll let us do anything.” You laughed before explaining what you wanted done. Within thirty minutes, you were in a chair with Tom at your side. He was armed with a tattoo gun, bouncing his leg nervously as someone else loaded it with ink.

“I need both hands to do this, so you’ll have to squeeze my knee instead if it hurts.” Tom said sympathetically, wishing he could hold your hand to ease your pain.

“Okay. Try to be gentle.” You braced yourself, already squeezing his knee out of fear.

“Right. I’ll just use the gentle setting on the gun.” Tom replied sarcastically, your laughter replacing your fear.

“Just shut up and do me.” You covered your eyes with your hands and turned away.

“Oh? Someones feeling romantic.” Tom poked fun at your accidental innuendo.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You whined.

“Sure you didn’t, darling. Are you okay to start?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just do it.” You gulped and squeezes your eyes shut as Tom began to freehand a web. There was an actual tattoo artist beside him, instructing him on what to do as he worked. The pain wasn’t as bad as you thought it was, but it didn’t feel great either. You squeezed his knee for an hour straight until you heard the relieving words.

“All done.” Tom said proudly as the buzzing from the gun stopped.

“Is my arm still there?” You asked, still facing away.

“It’s still there, love.” Tom chuckled as he wiped it down. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Yeah.” You beamed as Tom helped you sit up. You excitedly held out your arm. You looked at your tattoo and felt the air get knocked out of your lungs.

“Tom.” You mumbled as you stared at the tattoo.

“Do you like it?” He asked hopefully, staring at your face to read your reaction.

“It’s horrible.” You stared as you gaped at the misshapen web Tom had permanently put on your body. Toms heart stopped when he discovered that you didn’t like it.

“Darling, I’m sorry.” He apologized sincerely. “I told you I wasn’t-“

“I love you.” You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “And I love it. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Really?” He gasped.

“Thank you so much. It’s perfect.” You threw your other arm around him and hugged him tightly as tears of joy streamed down your face.

“I’m glad I could help.” He smiled as he rubbed your back. “I’m definitely going to need a picture of my work.”

“Go ahead. The world deserves to see this masterpiece.” You beamed as Tom took out his phone. He went live on Instagram and held his phone up to his face.

“Guys, Y/n made a really bad decision and let me tattoo her. Wait, how do I flip the camera?” He looked at you for help as you laughed.

“Like this, sweetness.” You tapped his screen twice and held out your arm.

“Okay. Look at this. This is pretty good for my first time.” Tom praised himself as he took your arm and gently twisted it to show off the whole thing.

“I’m in love with it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You smiled gratefully as Tom panned the camera up to your face.

“The smile on your face right now is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Look at this girl. How cute is she?” Tom gushed as he squished your cheeks with his free hand.

“I’m just so happy. Look at my tattoo!” You happily held your arm out, absolutely in love with what he had done.

“It’s pretty shit.” Tom laughed at his crooked lines.

“Stop it!” You scolded him. “This is my favorite thing in the entire world right now. And forever.”

“I’m glad you like it. Just like how you guys are gonna like our movie.” He managed to turn the camera around to wink.

“You’re gonna love it. I love it and I’ve never seen it.” You came into view as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You heard the girl. Go see our movie.” Tom commanded as he wrapped his free arm around your waist to hold you close.

“Out next week!” You chirped before he shut the camera off. You let a professional wrap the tattoo before you paid and left the shop. Tom held your hand as you walked down the street, his way of making up for not being able to hold it while you got the tattoo.

“Hey, speaking of the movie, we have the premier in a week and I haven’t picked an outfit.” Tom realized as you neared your hotel.

“Really? I picked my dress the day I was cast.” You joked, tugging Tom into the lobby.

“I fully believe you.” He laughed. “What are you wearing?”

“I have a picture. Here.” You handed him your phone as you got into an elevator. Tom looked at the picture of you in a floor length, off the shoulder, royal blue ball gown that you had taken in a fitting room. His jaw immediately dropped at the sight of you as his heart picked up speed.

“You look incredible. Can you send this to me?” He asked sweetly as he looked up from the phone.

“Sure, but it’s not even the whole look.” You laughed shyly as he gawked at you. “I’m gonna have hair, makeup, and heels on the day of the premier. Plus jewelry.”

“You’re forgetting the most important part.” He clicked his tongue.

“What’s that?”

“Me as your arm candy.” Tom winked at you and handed your phone back.

“How could I forget you? My partner.” You took his hand and squeezed it ostentatiously.

“You keep calling me that, and I kind of love it. I think of you as my partner too.” He said shyly as he played with your fingers.

“Then we should match at the premier. We can show everyone our partnership.” You said as the idea came to you.

“You’re wearing blue…”

“So you wear red.” You finished his sentence. “You’ve always looked good in red.”

“Done.” Tom decoded. “I’ll tell my stylist tomorrow.”

“Awesome.” You smiled as you got to your floor.

“Hey, darling?” Tom asked as you stepped off the elevator.

“Yes?” You stopped in the hallway so you could give him your full attention.

“Would you be my date to the premier?” He asked as his lips curved into a smile. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded before you could form words.

“I would love too.” You told him. His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he rushed at you, picking you up and spinning you around as he hugged you tightly.

“Yes!” He cheered. “Everyones gonna be jealous of me.”

“Alright, alright.” You laughed as he set you down. “Save that energy for the premier.”

“Trust me darling, I will.” Tom grinned as he stood outside his hotel room, directly across from yours.

“Goodnight, idiot.” You rolled your eyes at him as you stood in your doorway.

“Goodnight Princess.” He blew you a kiss, making you groan. You went inside and shut your door, but Tom stayed out for a moment, looking at your door wistfully before going on himself.

~

“Are you all done?” You asked as you walked into Toms room while putting in your earring. It was the day of the premier and you had gotten ready in separate rooms like a bride and groom.

“Yeah I’m all…oh my God.” His sentence quickly changed course when he saw you. His jaw was slack as he gawkers at you, taking his time in taking you in.

“Do you like it?” A pink tint covered your face when you saw how star struck he was, making you look down shyly.

“What! What?!” Tom was still in awe as he looked you over, unable to believe how good you looked.

“Stop it. You look incredible.” You complimented him, and he did.

“You look so good!” He exclaimed. “Darling, you take my breath away.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Red is definitely your color.” You praised as he twirled you under his arm. His deep red suit perfectly complimented his skin tone and made him look extravagant, especially with the glasses he had opted for. Tom rested his hands on your shoulders and looked at you dress with a proud smile.

“I can’t get over you.” He shook his head in disbelief. “The color blue was made just for you. You look ravishing, love. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled as you pulled him into a hug. Neither of you wanted to admit it, but you both knew this was the last time you’d be together in this way. After tonight, the movie would be out and you’d no longer be on the press tour together. Because of this unspoken feat, the hug lingered a little longer than usually.

“You ready?” Tom asked as he rested his chin on your head.

“Ready.”

~

You walked out onto the red carpet together, hand in hand as the crowd roared. Tom kept one hand on your back as you stopped to pose for the cameras.

“We look like a couple.” He leaned down to say into your ear.

“A couple of besties.” You said without looking at him as you parted his chest. He tightened his grip on your waist as he continued smiling at the cameras.

“I hate you so much for saying that.” He laughed as he held you closer.

“Aw. But I love you.” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. The press cheered for you as you made your way down the carpet.

“Let’s do something different poses.” Tom suggested as you fixed your dress.

“Okay. Prom pose has to be first.” You said eagerly as you turned around. Tom wrapped his arms around you from behind and posed like you were going to prom.

“That was so stupid.” He shook his head with laughter as he let go of you.

“Here. Gaze lovingly into my eyes.” You instructed as you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Why?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he complied.

“So the fans can say “look at the way they look at each other” and swoon.” You laughed as you tugged on the lapel of his jacket. Tom rolled his eyes before placing his other hand on the small of your back and gazing, as you put it, lovingly into your eyes. You put your hand on his cheek to keep his face in place and let the paparazzi have a field day.

You walked a few places down the red carpet before getting into a new pose, this time wrapping your arms around his neck as he kept his arms around your waist.

“We look like the Twilight poster.” You whispered in his ear before smoldering at the press.

“Which one?” Tom chuckled as he looked at you with all the adoration in the world

“All of them.” You told him as you kept your perfectly manicured hand over her heart.

“I want to do the Will Smith pose.” Tom decided, taking a step away from you and opening his arms like he was presenting you. You covered you mouth as you laughed loudly, feeling a warm sense of joy as Tom held his arms out to behold you. You looked at him fondly and blew him a kiss.

“I feel like artwork.” You shouted over the roar of the press.

“You look like it too.” Tom shouted back, holding his hand out for you to take. You happily accepted his hand, letting him twirl you before you spun into his chest. Both laughing happily and only seeing each other, the roar of the crowd disappeared. All you could hear was Tom’s laughter, coming deep from his tummy.

“Stop it.” You shyly hid your face in his neck as he held you tightly. Tom took your chin between his fingers and beamed at you, grinning like a child before resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re my best friend.” He said between his laughter, keeping his eyes shut to block out the rest of the world.

“And you’re mine.” You reached up and gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, looking longingly at him even with his eyes shut.

“Let’s go.” He slipped his hand into yours and pulled you along. “We have more red carpet to dazzle.”

~

“It’s over.” Tom let out a breath as he plopped on his bed after the premier. “I can’t believe it over.”

You plopped down next to him and both of you stared at the ceiling in silence. You were exhausted from all the screaming fans, interviews and hours on your feet, but you had never been happier. You reached out and took Toms hand which was lying beside yours and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Honestly Tom, this has been a dream with you. You made my experience better than I ever could’ve imagined. I can’t thank you enough.” You told him as you looked to your side to see him. He turned his head to look at you and gave your hand a squeeze.

“You can thank me by keeping me around.” He mumbled. “Getting to know you has been my favorite part of this whole thing, honest to God. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

“I’m sad it’s all coming to an end. I’m gonna miss being with you every day. Eating all our meals together and all that. I loved that.” You spoke softly as you looked down at your hands, trying to hold in tears that came out of nowhere.

“It doesn’t have to end. We can still see each other.” Tom assured you as he propped himself up on his elbow.

“Yeah, but it won’t be the same. You’ll go off and film your next movie and hang out with your newest costar and forget all about me.” You looked up at him sadly. “And yeah, we’ll see each other but it will only be every once in a while. We literally lived together during filming and now I’ll see you every few months. If I’m lucky.”

“Then let’s keep living together.” Tom said as if the idea had been brewing in the back of his mind for a while.

“What?” You lifted your neck a little to get a better look at him.

“I’m serious. Let’s move in together. Who says this ever has to end?” His eyes were hopeful skies with anxious clouds as he waited for your answer. You stared at him a moment as you pondered it, but deep down you knew the answer straight away.

“I don’t want it to.” You mumbled. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You never will.” Tom smiled softly as he brushed a stray hair off of your nose.

“Good.” You stated firmly. “Then let’s move in together to make sure of it.”

“Alright.” He left out a happy sigh and fell on his back. “We can start looking for a flat tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You covered your grin and turned away, not wanting him to see how happy it made you that he felt the same connection you did.

“All the fans are saying we look like a couple.” Tom said suddenly, handing you his phone that was open to twitter. The ship name your fans had coined for you and Tom was number one on trending, Tom was number two, and you were number three. Taking his phone in your hands, you scrolled through a few of the many rows of tweets saying you and Tom made, would make, or were a perfect couple. You couldn’t help but smiling seeing that millions of people wanted you to date your best friend.

“Oh my goodness.” You chuckled as you handed his phone back. “That’s another weird thing. I’m so used to kissing you and acting like I’m your girlfriend from filming. I have to stop myself from being all over you when I see you. I guess I’m still not fully out of character.”

“I have a pretty simple solution for that.” Tom quipped, clicking his phone off and turned on his side to look at you.

“Tell me.” You smirked as you rolled on your side as well.

“You wouldn’t have to stop yourself from being all over me if you…” Tom trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut like he lost his nerve.

“If I what?” You wondered, putting your hand over his to reassure him.

“If you were my girlfriend.” He spoke timidly. “Who says our love has to be limited to the screen?”

“Are you asking me out, Holland?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry if I misread the moment.” His face fell when he thought you didn’t feel the same. “ I thought we-“

You didn’t let him finish, leaning forward and kissing him instead. A hesitant hand molded against your hip as he kissed you back, smiling against your lips until you pulled away.

“You thought right.” You laughed breathlessly. “Whether we’re in front of a camera or not, I want to be your girlfriend.”

Tag List 🏷

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[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 3

A/N: seablings headcanon? seablings headcanon. (i adore jimmy and lizzie's dynamic, they're siblings ur honor. and joel makes a pretty great in-law tbh)

Warnings: arguing, flirting, teasing/banter

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost 

-

Katherine was extremely serious about the “no weapons” thing. Not a single tool was allowed, not even shovels or hoes. She had everyone place their weapons and tools in specifically marked chests, assuring each of them that they could get them back after the meeting, and that her iron golems would protect them from any threats if they were to arise. Besides, the chests were just at the entrance of her castle, visible from the meeting table. They could easily rush to their weapons if need be. It didn’t mean anyone was less jumpy about it, though. And Jimmy was particularly antsy- Fwhip was practically glowering at the table, and while Sausage looked outwardly cheerful, there was an edge to every word he spoke. Jimmy couldn’t fight the paranoia that one or both of them had snuck weapons to the meeting, and was just waiting for the right moment to strike.

And then there was Scott. There wasn’t anything outwardly shifty about the winged elf, but… there was definitely… something. Jimmy wasn’t sure what it was, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Scott. He was perfectly poised, as always, every hair in place and wings mantled. There was something elegant and serene about Scott as he listened to Katherine speak with a gentle smile. His gaze was focused on her, and Jimmy tried to search those icy blue eyes for any hint of malice. He found nothing but kindness, and that was what worried him. Surely Scott should be up to something… right? He had seemed so hostile the other day, but then they both apologized to each other… maybe he had nothing to worry about. But then there was that strange, soft yet calculating look he had given Jimmy, like he could finally start seeing the complete picture a puzzle would make. Was that something bad?

Jimmy’s thoughts were interrupted by Scott’s eyes suddenly meeting his, one eyebrow raised. Jimmy tried his best not to jump as he quickly looked away, focusing on Katherine. He could still feel Scott’s eyes on him, and absurdly, Jimmy felt like he was melting. Figures that Scott would have secret laser eyes or something. He wouldn’t even need a weapon, that was his plan all along. Surely that’s why Jimmy felt like he was going to implode, he definitely wasn’t embarrassed. Definitely. Thankfully, Scott’s eyes shifted away as Katherine spoke again.

“Now, there is one very important thing I wanted to discuss at this meeting. I don’t know if any of you have heard, but there are some new empires rising up. I think we should do our best to welcome the new rulers,” Katherine said. For the first time in the whole meeting, Fwhip looked interested. Somehow that scared Jimmy more than when he was grumpy and despondent.

“What would you suggest?” Fwhip asked, voice smooth and suspiciously charming. Jimmy didn’t like his tone one bit, but Katherine seemed to fall for it, beaming at Fwhip’s sudden interest.

“I would like to hold the first ever House Blossom Ball. All rulers will be invited, and it will be held in honor of the two new empires in our lands,” she explained.

“Oh that sounds wonderful!” Gem exclaimed, and excited murmurs of agreement circled through the room. But Jimmy felt uneasy. He did like the idea of a ball, dancing and dressing up fancy with friends sounded fun! But Fwhip’s excitement didn’t sit quite right with him, and there was the other issue of the two new empires. How did they know they could really trust them? Establishing a good relationship was important, yes, but was inviting them in so openly the best idea? Jimmy had tried being so open before, but look where that got him. A war over a disc, and a ravine on the outskirts of his empire. And now whatever was happening between him and Scott. Then suddenly, as if just thinking of him prompted him to speak, Scott brought up one of the very things that Jimmy was worried about.

“What do we know about these empires? Do you think we can trust them?” he asked. The excited murmurs stopped, something uneasy settling in the air instead. Katherine faltered for a moment, but kept her head high.

“The House Blossom Ball will hold the same rule as our meetings now do: no weapons. So unwarranted attacks will not be an issue. And not a lot is known about the other empires… they are just starting out, after all. One of them is in the jungle, and his empire can only be found if you are lost. The other empire seems to have sprouted up from nowhere, but its ruler has come a long way to settle here. In a way, both are lost. As the ten ruling powers in this land, I think it is our duty to welcome them so that they won’t have to be lost anymore,” Katherine said firmly.

“Poetic,” Fwhip said, voice a little overly saccharine for Jimmy’s liking. Katherine seemed a little put off by his tone as well, but didn’t comment on it. A determined frown came to Jimmy’s face. His skepticism be damned, he was going to support Katherine. He turned to her and smiled, reaching out to gently clasp Katherine’s hand, not unlike how she had after the last meeting.

“I agree with you, Katherine. Let’s help them be found,” Jimmy said softly, giving her hand a light squeeze before letting go. Katherine smiled at the touch, seeming grateful that Jimmy backed her up.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Jimmy,” Scott said dryly. Jimmy looked to Scott in surprise, expecting more of a fight, some clever retort or thought-out reason for why the ball couldn’t happen.

“Thank you, Scott,” Jimmy said, unable to keep a small smile off of his face. Scott’s nose scrunched up in irritation- and yup, there was the Scott he knew. Always looking at Jimmy with disdain or irritation.

“I was more supporting Katherine here than anything else,” Scott pointed out with a huff.

“But you specifically mentioned me…” Jimmy trailed off with a teasing grin. Scott’s cheeks tinted pink, just ever so slightly- but he still glared at Jimmy in frustration.

“Shut up,” he muttered. Jimmy grinned wider.

“Make me,” he teased, parroting Scott’s words from the last meeting. Sausage gasped, excitedly tapping Pearl’s arm as she shushed him and muttered something about how we had talked about this, Sausage.

“Well… we definitely have two supporters of the ball, any other thoughts?” Katherine asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject.

“I am absolutely in support, it sounds fun!” Gem replied, elbowing Fwhip. He jumped, and nodded in agreement.

“If Scott and Jimmy are going to be there, I definitely want to see what goes down,” Sausage chimed in with a grin. Scott and Jimmy both made an offended sound, but Pearl spoke up before either of them could say anything.

“And it’s a good diplomatic foot forward with the two new empires, Sausage. I think the ball is a lovely idea, Katherine,” Pearl said, offering an apologetic smile to both Scott and Jimmy for Sausage’s comment.

“I’m in too! I’d love a chance to dress all fancy and dance with Joel,” Lizzie added, linking arms with Joel and gazing up at him with a charming smile. Joel blushed a bit, and nodded his agreement as well.

“Well, since it seems like everyone else is going to this dance, guess I’d better show up too,” Pixl said with a nonchalant shrug and a grin. Katherine clapped her hands in excitement.

“Oh wonderful! I think I’ll cut this meeting short then, I have a lot of preparations to take care of, and I will send out the invitations soon!” Katherine said, rising from the table. The other rulers followed her lead, each of them bidding her goodbye before they went to their respective chests to retrieve their weapons and tools.

“I look forward to the ball, Katherine. I’m sure it’ll be a blast,” Fwhip said with a bow of his head and a cocky grin. Katherine beamed in response.

“Thank you! I’m glad to see you’re excited!” she replied, bowing her head to Fwhip as well. Jimmy still wasn’t sure how he felt about Fwhip’s sudden interest at the meeting… but then again Fwhip was only really Jimmy’s enemy. He and Katherine were on good terms, after all. He should trust Katherine’s judgement, even if he didn’t like Fwhip. He did, however, wait until Fwhip left to walk up to Katherine and bid her goodbye.

“See you later, Katherine! I’m excited for the ball, I’m sure with you in charge it will go great!” he said with a grin. Katherine laughed, blushing slightly.

“Aw, thanks Jimmy! And who knows, maybe the ball will not only forge new alliances with the new empires, but will strengthen or fix the bonds of the current ones,” Katherine said, glancing pointedly at Scott, whose back was to them as he looked over his weapons, before she looked back at Jimmy. She smiled not-so-innocently, and Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“I- well, I dunno about that. But… maybe. Today’s meeting didn’t go too bad, right?” Jimmy asked with a hopeful smile. Katherine giggled.

“Right! You guys are really turning a corner here, I can feel it!” she chirped. Jimmy laughed, shaking his head.

“Whatever you say, Katherine. I’ll be off now,” Jimmy said, bowing his head.

“Bye!” Katherine replied, bowing her head too and offering a little wave as Jimmy left. He waved back, and was still smiling to himself as he met Joel and Lizzie outside. The two of them had their elytra on, and there was a smug grin on Lizzie’s face that Jimmy didn’t like one bit.

“What’s that smile for?” Jimmy asked with a laugh as he equipped his elytra.

“Oh, I was just thinking about how you couldn’t contribute anything to the first half of the meeting because you were making eyes at a certain elf,” Lizzie said with a teasing lilt.

“I wasn’t ‘making eyes,’ I was making sure that he wasn’t up to anything!” Jimmy spluttered.

“Sure you were,” Lizzie crooned, taking off before Jimmy got a chance to respond. Joel sighed, smiling sympathetically at him before following after Lizzie. Jimmy took off too, the conversation far from over, in his opinion.

-

Jimmy wasn’t quite fast enough to keep up with Lizzie, but she and Joel waited for him on the dock outside of his house. The three of them had often hung out and chatted on the dock, long before Joel and Lizzie had gotten married or even began courting. Their empires had been much smaller then, but the bond between the three of them hadn’t changed. Which was why Jimmy was (affectionately) furious with Lizzie for implying something about himself and Scott. He sat down beside her, feet dangling over the water.

“Explain yourself, right now,” Jimmy huffed, trying to put on an angry act but couldn’t really keep it up with Lizzie. She smiled far too innocently at him, and okay. Maybe he could manage a frustrated expression pointed at her.

“I mean, she’s got a point. Plus I heard about that uh- scuffle, you two had,” Joel said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned forward to look past Lizzie at Jimmy.

“Ooh yeah, Katherine did tell us about that. You’d better watch out for those land boys, Jimmy. They’re trouble,” Lizzie said with a mock-concerned tone, but her playful grin gave her away. Joel shifted to look at Lizzie with an offended noise.

“Babe, I’m right here,” he said, near pouting.

“I know what I said. You’re trouble, King of Mezalea,” Lizzie teased.

“Like you’re any better, Ocean Queen,” Joel replied with a laugh. Lizzie giggled, playfully swatting at Joel's arm.

"You may be right, but this is about Jimmy’s troublesome land boy," Lizzie pointed out as she turned back to Jimmy.

"He's not my land boy!" he protested, face heating up slightly.

"Aww, that blush says otherwise!" Lizzie teased.

“He could be your land boy if you weren’t so busy trying to kill each other,” Joel chimed in.

“That’s exactly why he’s never gonna be ‘mine,’ he hates me, and I hate him! There’s nothing else going on!” Jimmy protested.

“Are you sure you two hate each other? You seemed pretty friendly at the meeting today,” Joel pointed out, voice a bit more gentle than the teasing tone it had been before. Jimmy sighed.

“That’s only cause Katherine insisted on us apologizing to each other when we uh. Fought. We’re only playing nice for Katherine’s sake,” Jimmy said sheepishly.

“Uh huh. Or you’re playing nice because you think Scott is pretty,” Lizzie teased, elbowing Jimmy playfully.

“I don’t think he’s pretty! I- I mean objectively he looks nice I guess but it’s more irritating than anything! How can a guy be so perfectly poised and elegant all the time, it’s annoying!” Jimmy spluttered. Joel and Lizzie exchanged amused, bewildered looks before looking back at Jimmy.

“Wow, you really do have it bad for him, huh,” Joel commented with a disbelieving laugh. Jimmy made an offended sound, opening his mouth to retort but was halted by Lizzie patting his arm comfortingly.

“It’s okay Jimmy, I’m sure Scott will come around and see what a sweet swamp boy you are,” she crooned, Jimmy flushing at the childhood nickname Lizzie always used for him.

“You two are impossible, nothing’s going to happen between us! And I’d prefer it that way!” Jimmy shot back with a frown.

“Methinks the cod boy protests too much,” Joel said dryly.

“I’m the Codfather, thank you very much,” Jimmy huffed.

“Hey, maybe if things work out really well, you’ll be a Codhusband,” Lizzie replied with a sly grin. Jimmy buried his face in his hands, trying to hide how bright red he was.

“Stop iiiit,” he whined. Lizzie only laughed, but threw an arm around his shoulders to give a small hug in apology. Joel reached around Lizzie to pat Jimmy’s back, and despite the teasing he had endured from them, Jimmy felt pleasantly warm and comforted all the same. Although to be fair, Joel and Lizzie always playfully teased him. But it would often end like this, the three of them nestled close together on the edge of the dock, watching the sun set over the water.

-

Taglists below! Ask to be added or removed!!

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[twilightpoison]

It’s been brought up to me that a lot of my content is Isekai based. However I didn’t want this to be a Ieskai HC post. Instead let me tell you all about a stupid thing I came up with as a kid that I’ve been meaning to make into a fic for so long.:

What if the characters you play actually can feel your presence and/or can hear your commentary when playing?

Fair warning I never play Hyrule Warriors and Twilight Princess so let me know if I got things wrong.

Head canons under cut!

General head canons (These are all platonic headcanons btw.):

- Let’s say that the simple reason that you are here was to help the chain. Think of it like you’re the groups companion on this journey. Who better then someone that knows about each hyrule?

- The people who dealt with a lot of magic recognize you at first. The others need a bit of a push to connect the dots but everyone gets there.

- The connection wasn’t as strong at times during their original adventures, so its not like they could always hear you or sense you.

Time:

- You saw him and it was clear he has another sibling now.

- Time knew you where telling the true, that you followed both of his adventures however he wasn’t going to be fully open to you.

- Guess who isn’t scared of Time? You.

- Literally at one point you’ve pointed at Time and with a straight face says “thats a child”.

- This is also how the chain found out that Time actually fought the moon technically.

- “You fought Majora on the moon while it was falling. That’s not the same thing.”

- You meet Malon and it was an awkward first meeting since how do you explain this in the first place.

- Yet the two of you got along amazingly.

- When you and time are alone you instantly ask Time if he knew how she got the cow in his house. He kinda just… stares at you? Like you just met his wife and thats what your asking about?!

- The answer was that he wasn’t sure how she did that but the cow isn’t in his old house anymore. Since different timelines and all.

- It’s honestly weird for him to have someone remember both of his adventures in confidence.

- All be a little awkward hearing someone go, “oh yeah! Time had to do something similar.”

- Early on Time did go over boundaries since he really doesn’t like to talk about his adventures to much.

- So instead you both agree to be as cryptic as possible or at least there is an attempt on your part. Since your the only other person that can confirm or deny his claims.

- And no. You also don’t know his true age. But your guess is the closest.

Twilight:

- Since he is one of the Link’s that is drenched in magic, he recognizes your aura instantly.

- Chaotic sibling energy.

- If he is giving Wild or any of the other Link’s a hard time you are by his side calling Twilight out. Unless if the person in question did something truly idiotic then you let him go off.

- Speaking of, you call this man out as much as you possibly can. Like hell if you’re going to let the others think he isn’t a gremlin.

- He did try to stop you by covering your mouth but you licked his hand. So…. guess what he isn’t trying again unless it’s necessary.

- Somethings are kept a secret though. Since he did live through it and even if it was stupid he still could of gotten really hurt.

- You both play good cop, bad cop to the younger Links all the time.

- Twi is surprisingly very open with you about his adventure, to finally talk to someone about it with out having it sound crazy is nice.

- He also has some questions about you and your life. Since before this adventure started you just disappeared.

- The two of you honestly get along like two best friends who haven’t seen each other in years but still can banter like its the good old days.

- Knowing only small amounts about what they all been through it’s nice to know that you’re looking after the others as well.

- That feeling makes him really push himself to protect the family he has here and luckily you are here can smack him upside the head before lecturing him.

Warriors:

- heeeeey… you know what happen the last time he met someone that was suppose to be watching over the hero’s spirit?

- Yeah, so….War’s isn’t so keen on trusting you like some of these Heroes.

- You seem nice and not obsessively crazy. If anything what makes him decide to give you a chance. It’s seeing you get along with the other Heroes post battle or around the campfire when you think no one is watching.

- The moment that he recognizes you. You were cursing out some monsters and calling Dink every name under the sun. Which he actually remembers hearing your panicked voice briefly when fighting Cia.

- Anyway, you guys are a sass duo and even a trio when you get Leg involved.

- You steal his scarf sometimes with Time and Wind’s help

- He finds you and Wind wrapped inside of it leaning on time and his heart just- clenches, he has more siblings now!

- Then Warriors realizes he has another sibling… another sibling that will prank him…

- You two can be found discussing tactical strategies. Mostly him teaching you though since depending on the person not many people will know how to lead an army. Yet he is a good teacher and you catch on pretty quickly.

- Same with Twi, Warrior’s needs someone to pull him back sometimes it seems. Who better then to remind him then the person that already saw his lowest moment when his ego got the better of him?

- Seriously speaking. He wouldn’t come to you to talk. If anything he will try to avoid you if he wasn’t his best. In his head he has a reputation to uphold. Which will lead to a heart to heart. No sass. No banter. Just you and him sitting down to remind him that he is human.

- He needs a hug. Please give him a hug.

Sky:

- Sky actually didn’t recognize you at first!

- Yes he felt your presence and hear your voice in his adventure, but that was a while ago at this point. Also he isn’t as connected to magic as the others are.

- He does slowly befriend you despite everything.

- It wasn’t until you referred to a certain demon lord as a ‘B*tch A** Clown’ and a flood gate of memories open up for him. Memories of you cursing out Ghirahim, calling the imprisoned an ‘avocado with feet’ and so on.

- Nothing really changes between you two honestly, he just accepts it.

- If anything he becomes more open to you about everything, setting clear boundaries on what he doesn’t want to bring up. He will tell everyone about the curse eventually, but just hasn’t found a good opportunity too. Things like that.

- You do have to argue with Sky that the curse wasn’t his fault since you were also there when it was put on him, also the fact that he didn’t asked to be cursed in the first place.

- Most of the time you two are together its to get away from the chaos that the group of nine heroes could bring.

- Walking or sitting in silence is how you two end up most of the time together. It may not look like you two are bonding. There are some days while Sky is wood carving you would work on your small hobby as well. Then there are days he plays the harp and your reading.

- Despite it all he really enjoys the peace you bring. There is a sense of comfort that you have.

- When you and Sun finally meet. The first thing you ask him is to be invited to the wedding and it may or may not been in front of her too…

Wild:

- The recognition was really slow for him like Sky. Since Wild just got off of his first adventure he didn’t actually notice you were gone.

- It was until he realized that he couldn’t hear your panicked voice or snarky remarks when fighting in his head. That he finally realized you where outside of his head. He was quick to connects the dots after that.

- There was a moment where he didn’t know how to react since he just figured that you were just from his imagination.

- He now has another adventuring buddy with Hyurle! Though luckily you do keep the both of them from harm. Mostly because if something happens to them you will get in trouble with like Twi and Leg and thats never fun.

- Though you have your moments. Shield surfing and paragliding are on top of that list and Wild is all up for teaching you the ropes.

- The topic of the history of hyrule gets brought up a lot with the two of you. Since his era has a lot of connections to the past era’s. He is all up for learning about what came from where. Soon theories start to fly about.

- When You, Him and Flora are finally all together. There is nothing stopping you all from bouncing off theories. With your outside knowledge mixing with what they know. Things start to fall into place.

- The answer to why the timeline is like this doesn’t get answer. But hey! At least you all are having fun!

- If you can’t cook he will teach you that too! If you can! Well buckle up your going to share your knowledge with him whether you want to or not.

- Once you know how or get used to cooking while camping, you help him out a lot and its these moments where you both talk the most.

- It’s comforting to him to know he wasn’t alone this whole time.

Legend:

- As soon as you two locked eyes he felt instant dread. Yes he knew. No he isn’t going to opening up to you.

- Playful Insults to bond? Yeah that’s literally how he talks to everyone so no special treatment.

- He keeps you at a distance but its not actually working.

- You talk about his adventures so casually like it happened a few days ago. You avoid Link’s Awakening though. If you got hurt with the plot twist then you could only imagine the pain Leg went through.

- “I’m still trying to process the fact you married a tree.” “Hey remember that one time with Yuga, you slammed face first into a wall so hard you knocked yourself out?” “God do you not wear pants because of the fish thing?”

- This relationship is literally: Only I can bully this one.

- He fears the moment you meet Ravio and Fable knowing full well you all will bond over teasing him.

- Overall though he knows you got his back no matter what, to the point he finds himself confining in you slowly.

- Guess who is also teaming up with Hyrule to get Legend to sleep. It you.

- Once you probably have forced him to sleep by getting wolfie to lay on him. It was the wolf or yourself. In the end it was both of you and he was trapped.

- A sign that he was becoming soft towards you was when he started sharing his items with you. He trusts that you know how to use them and if you don’t he is actually willing to show you.

- He regrets giving the bee badge to you.

Hyrule:

- Another person that is drenched in magic. It only took one look at you for him to realize who you were.

- The two of you were awkward as anything at first. Since to you he never really spoken in his adventure so you didn’t know how to picture his personality.

- There’s a lot of mystery in your mind about him since again there isn’t much to go off of with what your given in game. It’s weird for him to hear about how you interpret his personality from that perspective.

- Hyrule didn’t honestly expect you to try and befriend him tbh. It mostly him over thinking it.

- You do follow him sometimes when he wants to wander around and explore. Mostly because you claim he finds the coolest things when he does.

- But its just a excuse to actually get to know him.

- The two of you trade stories and questions about each of your lives. There might be things you know that he might not know of about his adventure and his hyrule.

- Of course never going into to much details since there are things you couldn’t tell him.

- Hyrule honestly was dreading the day you all would land in his Era. He loves his home but is also very aware of it not being the most…welcoming place.

- So it’s more then surprising to him that there is even more then the glint of familiarity and excitement on your face. Knowing full well what dangers where a head of you, you still were open to exploring his world to the fullest.

- It’s honestly refreshing to see someone love his era as much as he does.

- Another boy that needs hugs, please give him a hug.

- You both cheer each other on though.

- This relationship is just aggressive support between you two and the others.

Four: (I’m actively mixing the Four Sword game and manga just to be clear.)

- Not sure if he would know exactly who you where since during the second adventure your voice and presence bounce between the four of them.

- Yet I also feel like he took after you because he was a child in his first adventure, which worries you a lot. Since you did have choice words for Vaati.

- The first to realize was Vio then it went Blue, Red and Green. Despite being in the same head it was just a theory they had over all. They all had their own ways of confirming it.

- Vio noticed the small things you do around Four. Like not stepping on their shadow, and covering Four when things got chaotic in their head. Small references here and there. When the two of you are alone he almost quizzes you about things. Just to see how much you know and to see if your telling the true or not.

- Blue recognize your mannerisms being something he picked up on during the first and second adventure. Only vaguely since again he was a child / there was only a small part only with him. Your fighting banter when your in battle made you see where Blue got his colorful language from…

- Your comfort was what clued Red in. He remembers your presence more clearly then the others from the first and second adventure. It was a comforting (yet chaotic) presence in their adventures that he latched on to. More so from his first adventure since as a kid he made an imaginary friend to process the fact he could sense and hear your presence. When you came back in the second time around it felt so natural for Red to have you there and really helped make him go forward through his small journey.

- For Green? It was a lot of things but when he see’s you treating each color differently when they are in charged. It’s a refreshing sight to be honest. He just enjoys hearing and seeing that his brothers had someone to confide in. Even when they switch who is in control you some how could tell and spoke to them accordingly.

- They were all some what surprise that none of the others picked up on your treatment of him swapping so much. Yet their also glad because their not ready to reveal themselves quiet yet.

- As Four or as you nicknamed him ‘Rainbow’ the two of you tend to sick together when the world’s shift around. Since his body needs more time to recover.

- You two are another pair that cheers each other on when the moral is low.

- He introduces you to the Minish! Getting you a jabber nut so you can speak to them too. You can’t shrink down to properly talk to them so this was the next best thing.

- The four of them makes you a dagger to bring home to remember him by, there’s a kin stone imbedded where the blade meets the hilt.

Wind: (hello self projection my dear friend)

- Wind didn’t recognize you ether at first, yet he didn’t even blink when you join everyone. He was fully on board with getting a new member and is easiest the most opened.

- It was when you two are alone together that something clicked in his head. You see during the Wind Waker he was alone most of the time when he was on land. So he had to face a lot by himself.

- Having you was reassuring to him when facing some of the monsters alone, especially with the puppet ganon fight. The two of you both agree that it was creepy.

- CHAOTIC SIBLINGS PART 2… well kinda

- Wind is a lot more mature then you realized but you two still have those moments.

- You, Aryll and Grandma get along too! So he and his family basically sees you and the chain as family.

- Pranking buddies! You’re targets would never know. Mostly because your covering up for him. You two team up with Four and Wild so the pranks can get chaotic at times.

- No matter what age you are compare to him and if your ok with it he does like platonic physical affection. Your going to be trading off with Warriors a lot of the time for cuddles or it’s the three of you together.

- You teaching him our worlds sea shanties and him teaching you his? Heck yeah! Even making up songs with the others is something on the table and in the works which is nice.

- It’s another thing to bring back home thats personalized!

Honestly since I’ve written all of this down I want to write the fic more. Though I’ll probably not only because idk if people would even read it lol. So it will just be a bunch of head canons. Anyway rambling is done.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Congratulations

Fred Weasley x Reader

~Master~

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: Hope you like! Please like, reblog, comment, whatever! I need validation! 😂 I wrote this on a whim and okay, if anyone knows that like interview or whatever that Selena Gomez did where she was asked a song that reminded her of being in love, that’s what got me writing this at midnight because I caught inspiration. 

***

“Y/N will play with us! Won’t you, Y/N?” Ginny yelled out as she entered the common room, ruining the world you distracted yourself in with your book. Behind her was a group of people, a couple of them having the Weasley red hair, but all of them your friends. Ginny smiled at you, approaching the table you sat at and sliding into the seat.

You sighed deeply, putting a fake smile on your own face as you closed your book. “What are we playing?” A few people celebrated as you agreed, but right away your eyes flickered to a certain nervous face. It wasn’t that Fred didn’t want you to play, it was that since you both broke up 3 weeks ago, you’ve barely said a word to him. If you play this game, you’d be close, not walking out of rooms the moment the other walks in. You gulped, feeling Ginny pull you over to the couches where everyone began taking seats. You fell in between Hermione and Harry, both of them quickly noticing Fred taking the seat farthest from you.

There were 7 people playing with you. Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron, the twins, and Angelina. George pulled out a box from behind him as you quirked a brow. “What are we playing?” you asked again, letting a laugh as George made a big debacle of opening it.

“It’s a game Fred and George made.” Hermione said as leaned over to you, amused to see how this would turn out. “We’re the test subjects.”

Your eyes went wide. “What pranks weren’t enough, they moved onto games?” you laughed as Hermione smiled and shrugged, knocking her shoulder with yours.

“Tell us the rules.” Ginny told her brother causing George to roll his eyes as he removed the last two things from the box.

“It’s a simple game.” He began, sharing a smirk with Fred.

“Like Truth or Dare.”

“Only different.” They said together, having planned their pitch beforehand. You kept your eyes on George as they spoke, too afraid of sparing a glance to Fred as he carried on.

“We’re spilt into two teams and each team gets a vial and a card.” He held up each object to demonstrate, the vial was quite large, barely able to fit his hand as he placed it on the table and the card looked blank. Fred’s eyes met yours briefly as you looked at the objects, a hitch in his breathing letting you know he hadn’t seen it coming. George waited for his brother to say the next line before realizing he was looking at you, too busy staring at your now down casted face as George took over.

“The card will ask whoever’s holding it a question, and you have to answer truthfully, otherwise you have to do the dare that’s written on the back.” Fred seemed to snap out of his trance in the middle of George’s instructions, shifting in his seat as he kept his eyes off you for the time being. “Whenever you answer a question truthfully, part of the vial fills up. If you choose the dare instead, the vial doesn’t fill. The first team to answer enough questions to fill the vial completely, wins.”

Small sounds of intrigue went around the group and it seemed like everyone wanted to play the game. “How are we splitting us up?” Ron asked, glancing around the group. “Older versus younger?” He offered and you swallowed thickly. That would put you on a team with Fred, and you weren’t sure that’s what you wanted. Hermione, having seen your reaction to Ron’s suggestion, was the first to step in.

“How about girls versus boys, instead?” She offered. There were a few sounds of agreement, but when Hermione shot Ron and Harry a glare and flickered her eyes between you and Fred, Harry and Ron were suddenly more enthusiastic about the idea. Everyone moved, putting the girls together on one side of the table and the boys on the other.

“Thank you.” You whispered to Hermione and she squeezed your hand under the table. She might be 2 years younger than you, but Hermione has always been easy to talk to, especially in the last few weeks.

The twins got the game started, using Harry as the first person to answer a question. The question he had to answer was simple: What’s your favorite dessert?

“Treacle tarts.” Harry answered immediately and you had to hold back a chuckle, remembering all the times you’ve seen him stuff his face with them. The boy’s vial started to fill slowly from the bottom, a blue liquid inside that you all furrowed your brows at.

“What is that?” Angelina asked from next to you.

Fred and George shared a look and a smile as the they answered her together. “Magic.” Everyone chuckled at them, including you. You knew they wouldn’t say, gotta have their secrets. What you weren’t aware of, was Fred watching as you laughed, the slight tug of his heart when he heard the sound he’d grown to miss.

The questions kept coming, each group taking turns answering them as the vials slowly filled up. A few people had opted for taking dares as the questions became harder to answer. George, for one, was dared to change into girl clothes for the rest of the game and you took him upstairs, throwing him a few of your clothes to wear. Needless to say, it was quite entertaining for everyone as he came downstairs with you in tow and the whole group laughed, including the boy himself. Harry was dared to sprint down to the Slytherin Common room and back 3 times, and Angelina was dared to perform a song for the group, which George immediately complained about the unfairness of the dares in his own product. You had answered quite a few questions yourself, ones like: Your favorite place in the world or what’s the most illegal thing you’ve ever done. The girls’ vial was almost full as Hermione answered her most likely final question, leaving enough room for one last person, which much to your luck, was you. You sat with a smile, everyone laughing as Ron opted out of answering his question, deciding spilling who his crush was wasn’t something he was going to do, despite the fact that everyone knew it was Hermione, who blushed as you poked her leg.

“Alright Y/N, you just need one more question to win it for the girls.” George said with a smirk as Hermione passed you the card. You stuck your tongue out at him, earning a laugh from everyone as George put his hands up. “Or you could take the dare like a chicken and let us prove once and for all that we’re better.” The boys cheered in a friendly fashion as the girls booed, everyone sitting with a smile on their faces.

“Haven’t taken a dare yet, Weasley. Don’t plan on it now.” You shrugged with a cocky look before putting your hand to your chest. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask, how’s my jeans, chicken?” you asked, hearing Ginny clap as she laughed at her brother’s fallen face. Fred pulled your attention as he laughed at your question, seeing George shift awkwardly next to him. You quickly let your head drop again, wearing a fake smile as you tried not to look back up at him. It was harder to do than you thought.

“Read the card!” Ron laughed out, seeing the card had already scribbled a question on it.

“Okay!” Your grin turned real again as you started reading. “What is a song...” Everyone knew something was wrong the moment you stopped in the middle of the sentence and gulped, letting your smile fall off your face immediately. They all got quiet as they waited. “… that reminds you of being in love?”

Fred wasn’t sure he was breathing as you finished reading. You couldn’t spare him a glance, instead staring at the paper in front of you. Everyone was watching you, sharing looks with each other without any clue of what to do.

“You can do the dare, on the back.” Harry spoke up, pointing to the under side of the car. His words reminded you that you weren’t alone as you sucked in a breath, looking up to him and shook your head.

“No, it’s fine.” You didn’t know what fine meant, but you knew you were far from it. You tried to think, any song in the world that reminded you of being in love. The only problem was had only been in love with one person, and it ended with your heart broken. The only song you could think of was the one playing at the yule ball when Fred and you went together, the first time he ever told he loved you.

Does it remind of being in love if all it makes you feel is heartbroken?

“I don’t know.” You whispered, gently placing the card down on the table. Your eyes moved around everyone in the room before landing on Fred and neither of you looked away. “I don’t think I have one.”

Fred felt the sting behind his eyes as they met yours and he tried not to cry, not in front of everyone here during a game. A game that was supposed to be fun, a project he started 3 weeks ago to get his mind busy and off the breakup and here it was hurting him more.

The vial on the table slowly filled up as you turned to look, watching it change a light shade of purple as well, meaning your team won. No one celebrated. Instead you all sat there, frowns on your faces and you weren’t sure how long you could last before breaking down.

“Congratulations.” Fred said, keeping his voice low. “You guys win.” You knew he was speaking to your group, but if you had willed yourself to look at him one last time, you would’ve seen he was looking directly at you. He was gone the moment the words left his lips, running upstairs to his room. When you couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, you felt Hermione putting an arm around you and pulling you into her arms. You allowed her to console you, letting the tears fall freely as Angelina grabbed your hand and Ginny moved behind you to rub your back.

You didn’t feel like you won anything.

***

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[pappydaddy]

Tribulations (n.w.)

 A/N: I am slowing knocking these requests down! I am so happy to finally be able to get these imagines out for you guys who have waited so, so patiently!! This one is for the lovely anon who requested Nancy x fem!reader with a secret relationship. I had no idea what to title this so I just went with a word😅! This has some hardcore angst so I hope you don’t mind! Hope you enjoy it lovely💛!

Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x Fem!Reader

Show/Movie: Stranger Things

Requested

Inspired by: i love you by billie eilish (slowed + reverb) (first bit) and She by dodie (second bit) *creds to owners, found in links)                    

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, argument, fluff.

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 There was a certain comfort about hiding something so tender from everyone else. Maybe it was the fact that it remained untouched by the menacing hands of the outside world, maybe it was the fact that it laid in the shadows, unseen by everyone else. Whatever it was, Nancy didn’t have a problem continuing this charade of hiding her relationship from her friends and family. She was perfectly content on hiding the loving touches and kisses that she and Y/N shared in the confines of their rooms. 

 Y/N on the other hand was growing tired of being hidden. She wanted nothing more than to hold Nancy’s hand as they walked down the street in the daylight. She wanted to kiss her in front of their friends just as Nancy had done with her boyfriend’s in the past. She wanted to have the sickeningly cute relationship you saw in the movies, but yet, she was restricted to stealing kisses when they snuck away under the pretenses of powdering their noses. 

 “Hey, Nance,” Y/N spoke up, her teeth picking at her bottom lip nervously. She didn’t lift her head off Nancy’s chest, remaining in her comfortable position of laying between Nancy’s thighs, their stomachs pressing together. Nancy hummed, her fingers continuing to comb through Y/N’s hair. “I’ve been thinking-”  

 “Uh oh, thinking almost always leads to something.” Nancy commented, trying to keep the lightness of the situation, almost as if she knew exactly what Y/N was going to try and talk about. Y/N sensed her girlfriend’s nerves rising, the panic stirring under her calm surface. She pulled herself from Nancy’s embrace, suddenly the calmness she once felt a second ago turned to undeniable tension. Sitting on her knees, she faced Nancy who sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. 

 “Yeah, that’s kinda the whole point,” Y/N nodded awkwardly, tangling her fingers together nervously. “Um, I was just wondering when we could maybe tell people about us,” She spoke the question that had been weighing on her mind for some time. “It doesn’t have to be everyone, it can start with Robin and Steve or something, or maybe just Robin, it doesn’t matter as long as you’re comfortable, but I just want someone else to know about us.” She rambled, worried that the thought of telling everyone they knew would freak Nancy out too much. 

 “I don’t know, Y/N, I kind of like this.” Nancy shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping. She knew that Nancy had worked at breaking from the mold of the perfect daughter, trying to stop living with a safety net under her at all times, but she also knew that the safety net had only dropped so far. 

 “Like what, Nancy? Like only being able to hold each other within a certain four walls? Is this all our relationship will be? Hiding in our rooms, stealing kisses in empty public washrooms?” Y/N pressed, gesturing to the room they currently sat in. The walls of Nancy’s room was a sight that Y/N saw pretty much daily, but right now, she would rather be anywhere else. 

 “Of course not,” Nancy defended, her mouth falling open as she struggled to find a way to reply to her. “But you have to admit that there is something special about keeping this,” She gestured between herself and Y/N who remained at the foot of her bed, keeping as much distance between them as she could. “Keeping us away from them.” She pointed her finger towards her window. Y/N glanced towards it before shaking her head.   

 “Look Nancy, I get that you’re nervous to tell people and that’s okay, but honestly,” She took a deep breath. “You might be okay with hiding us from the world, but it makes me feel like shit. It makes me think that you don’t want people to know that you’re dating me and that hurts.” Tears stung her eyes, but she hurriedly blinked them away. She kept her eyes from meeting Nancy’s brown ones, knowing that if she looked at them, she wouldn’t be able to stop the salty tears from streaking down her cheeks. 

 “That’s not what I meant to do, you have to trust me, Y/N/N,” Nancy pleaded, rolling onto her knees to reach for Y/N’s hands. Y/N scrambled off the bed, standing in the middle of Nancy’s room with her hands raised in the air to avoid Nancy from teaching them. She shook her head, a lump forming in her throat. “I never meant for you to feel like that, I just think it’d be better if we keep our relationship a secret for a bit longer-” 

 “Yeah, a bit longer,” Y/N’s voice was weak as she tried to hold back her emotions, her bitter sarcasm straining through just enough for Nancy to recognize it. “That’s what you said two months ago! And two months before that,” She exclaimed loudly. Nancy sent a panicked look to the closed bedroom door, shushing Y/N. “Christ Nancy! We’re nearing our one year anniversary and we are still keeping us a secret,” She continued. Nancy opened her mouth to talk, but Y/N unknowingly cut her off, finally meeting Nancy’s eyes. “Why,” She spoke the word softly, so softly that it was almost unheard. “Why do you want to keep us a secret?” Hurt was evident in her voice and Nancy knew that nothing she could say would make that hurt go away right now.  

 “I-I,” She stammered, this time, it was her eyes that dropped from Y/N’s. “I-”  

 “Is it because you’re dating me, a girl,” Y/N posed the question with a strained voice. This time a tear did roll down her cheek. “Because I really don’t want to think that you would be ashamed of that, but I really cannot find another reason why you would be so adamant about keeping us a secret. And if you’re not ready to come out to people yet, that’s fine. I am completely okay with that because that’s something you have to do on your own time, but all I am asking for is for you to tell me so that we can figure out where we can go from here,” She ranted her voice wobbling. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to will the tears and lump in her throat away, but it was useless. “Because I don’t want to sit here and just be a secret forever.”  

 “That’s not the reason! Maybe it’s part of it, but trust me when I say that I am ready to come out to my mom and brother! Even our friends, but I don’t want to fully disclose our relationship with them.” Nancy told her, her eyes wide.  

 “That’s the thing, Nancy,” She sighed. “I don’t want to force you to come out to anyone if you’re not ready. If you were truly ready, you would have talked about it or at least thought about before you realized that you could lose me from this,” Y/N finally shuffled back over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, just far enough out of Nancy’s reach to let her know she still didn’t want to be touched. “I’m not saying I want to break-up, I am saying that I want to talk about this with you, but I think we both need to take some time and think about what we want separately and then talk.”  

 “So you want to go on a break?” Nancy’s voice wobbled this time, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.  

 “No, just take a day or two, think about it and then we can talk and see where to go from there. We need to start communicating instead of just brushing everything under the rug,” Y/N paused, hesitantly reaching her hand out to lay in over Nancy’s, their eyes connecting. “But don’t feel like you need to come out to keep me, I don’t want to force you to come out, I just want to talk.” She reminded her. 

 “Talk,” Nancy nodded, swallowing thickly. “We can do that.”  

 “Okay,” Y/N whispered, pulling her hand off Nancy’s slowly. “I’m going to go now, call me when you want to talk?” She asked, picking her bag up off the floor. Nancy nodded, her lips pressing together in an attempt to stop the trembling. She didn’t answer, too scared that she’d break down if she opened her mouth to speak.  

 With a final nod and a tight smile, Y/N opened the door to Nancy’s room. It felt like even more of a weight settled down upon her now that the fate of their relationship hung in the balances of uncertainty as she closed the door behind her and quickly made her way out of the Wheeler household. “Leaving so soon, Y/N, I was just going to go up and ask if you were staying for dinner tonight.” Mrs. Wheeler perked up as the teen rushed past the entrance of the dining room. Y/N stopped, backing up to peek her head around the wall, a fake smile on her lips.  

 “Uh, not tonight Mrs. Wheeler, thanks for the offer though! I’m just really swamped with College Applications and stuff, the busy life of a Senior!” She lied, hoping the older woman would buy it. Mrs. Wheeler hummed, nodding as if she hadn’t bought the lie she gave her. 

 “You’re coming to the movie night this weekend though, right?” Mike popped up, blinking at the girl. The monthly movie night. It started with just Y/N, Steve, Robin, and the kids before it expanded to include Nancy after her break-up with Jonathan. 

 “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” She told him, earning a smile from the lanky teen. “See you, Mrs. Wheeler, thank you for having me!” She called over her shoulder, escaping the seemingly cheery house as she felt like she was suffocating. She regretted bringing the topic up. She wanted to huddle back under the shade of the shadows, the protection of blissful ignorance, but she knew that if they wanted to progress this relationship any farther, they had to talk about this sooner or later.  

 She held onto her tears long enough to slip into her car, but the second the door slammed, her shoulders shook as tears rolled freely down her cheeks. The fear that maybe this might be the end of her relationship weighing heavily on her mind. ____  

  “Nancy?” Y/N gasped in shock when she pulled her front door open to see her girlfriend standing on her porch. Nancy looked up from her feet, her eyes connecting with Y/N’s. Tension and an air of awkwardness surrounded them as they stood there staring at each other. 

 “Um, I know you asked me to call you, but I was out driving and I thought that there was no better time to talk than now,” Nancy explained, shuffling her feet. Y/N blinked, not having expected Nancy to be ready to talk so soon (a day) after the fight. “Could I come in?” She asked the stunned girl, pointing past her into her house.  

 “Yeah, yeah,” Y/N nodded, stepping aside as she ran a hand over her face. “Come in, and uh, sit down, my parents are out for the night so we can talk in the living room if you’d like.” Y/N swallowed, gesturing towards the empty living room. 

 “Thank you.” Nancy whispered in passing, slipping into the house and practically beelining towards the living room. Y/N softly closed the door, leaning her forehead against the wood of it before pushing off it and joining Nancy.  

 “Would you like a drink or something before we start talking,” She asked, rubbing the back of her neck. Nancy shook her head, settling down on the couch, placing her bag by her feet delicately. “Okay,” Y/N nodded, rubbing her nervous palms on her jeans. She sat on the opposite end of the couch stiffly, clearing her throat. “So, you’re ready to talk about us?”  

 “Yeah, um,” Nancy shifted, angling her body to look at Y/N better from the corner of her eyes. She kept her gaze on her interlocked fingers that were placed in her lap. “I gave it a lot of thought.” Nancy informed her. Y/N hummed, turning her head to look at Nancy, waiting for her to continue, but she didn’t.

 “And?”  

 “And I am ready to come out to our friends and my mom, but I just don’t know about telling them about us.” Nancy slowly let her eyes flirt up to look at Y/N, avoiding eye contact despite being glued to her face. Y/N nodded, pulling her face away from the girl, looking off towards the wall in front of her. The lump returned, blocking her airway.  

 “Okay, may I ask why you don’t want to tell them about us?” She wondered, trying to keep her watering eyes from developing into tears. Her heart sinking to the bottom of her feet. 

 “I don’t really know, it’s just that this is good - what we have is good.” Nancy tried to explain.

 “Can I ask if you feel scared to tell people about us?” Y/N once again wondered, not wanting to push Nancy into doing something she didn’t want to, but also wanting to be happy in a relationship. She wanted to be with Nancy, but if Nancy wasn’t willing to consider the option of telling someone about their relationship, Y/N wasn’t sure she would be happy in the relationship.  

 “No, of course not,” Nancy defended honestly, slumping when she realized that she would have to expose the real reason to Y/N. “I just don’t want anything to change. I like how this is going and I don’t want to let the world at what we have, it’s too tender and too soft for the world.”  

  “If what we have is too soft for the world then it’s doomed because even hidden behind a curtain of secrecy, our relationship still had to stand the test of the world,” Y/N told her, still not looking towards the slack-jawed girl. “Look, Nancy, the world will get to us, maybe even more if we keep this a secret. Change is inevitable, it will get us either way.”  

 “I get that, but for right now, we can protect this from the world for just a bit longer!” Nancy cried, trying to prove her point. Y/N shook her head, turning her watery eyes to look at Nancy. 

 “Don’t you see it, Nance? This right here,” She gestured around the room and between them. “This fight, this argument that we’re having. This is the world getting at we have. And as much as I respect your desire to stay a secret, I just can’t be happy in a secret relationship that has no signs of becoming public at all.”  

 “So you want to break-up?” Nancy’s question was so similar to the one she asked the other day and she wished that Y/N’s answer would be the same as it was that time. Nancy let out a breath when Y/N shook her head.

 “No, I don’t want to break-up, but I want to know that eventually, we will tell our friends at least because I love you and I want to hold your hand, I don’t want to pretend to be just friends in front of everyone. I love you Nancy Wheeler and I want to show you that I love you in front of our friends because it kills me to hear them asking you if you’ve met anyone and for you to tell them no.” Y/N ranted, her eyes darting away from Nancy’s once again.  

 Nancy sat there, her world shattering around her at the words Y/N spoke to her. “You love me?” Nancy whispered, hoping that Y/N didn’t mean those words.

 “Yeah,” Y/N whispered back, her body riddled with anxiety. She could hear Nancy swallow from the deafening silence blanketing the room. Y/N’s tongue darted out to wet her lips nervously, waiting for Nancy to say something. “If you don’t want to say it back, it’s fine. Really, and it’s okay that you don’t want to tell people about us, but I just want you to tell me that there is a chance of us telling people about us before I fall any deeper.”  

 Nancy watched the glistening tear roll down Y/N’s cheek, a ball forming in her throat and a suffocating weight being placed on her chest. “I-I don’t know,” Nancy stuttered out, standing from the couch, her purse dangling from her fingers. “I need to go and think more, I guess I wasn’t ready for this yet, I’m sorry, Y/N,” She rushed out. Y/N stood, her heart falling from Nancy’s hands and splattering on the carpeted floor under their feet. “I’ll call you when I’ve figured it out, okay?” Nancy fled to the door, yanking it open and darting to her car before Y/N could even get to the front door herself. 

 “Wait, Nancy,” Y/N called, scrambling onto the porch, watching as the girl she loved slid into a Station Wagon. “Where does this leave us?” Her voice echoed into the night, but it didn’t receive an answer. ____

  The weekend rolled around faster than Y/N wanted to. She had waited for so long for Nancy to come and talk to her, but her phone never rang nor did her doorbell. Y/N regretted a lot of things. The deep regret of bringing this up in the first place still grew in her stomach, the regret of saying that she loved her in the height of emotions piled on top of that to great a giant pile of regret. 

 Nancy on the other hand was high strung. Her mind ran a mile a minute. Her thoughts were all occupied by Y/N. The way her touch made her feel, the way her smile lit up the world, the beautiful melody that was her laugh. Before, she wasn’t sure why she wanted to keep the beautiful relationship between them a secret, but it came to her suddenly. She was scared, scared of having this relationship fail too. She had fallen out of love with Steve easily when Jonathan crept his way into her heart then she fell out of love with Jonathan due to the struggles of long-distance. When Y/N had uttered those words to her, it re-enforced that fear, but also made it clear that Nancy was once again free falling. She couldn’t escape her feelings, they were there and they needed to be tended to.  The doorbell to the Wheeler household rang through the still house, jolting Nancy out of her thoughts. It was Y/N without a doubt, the others were already piled in the basement waiting for the movie night to begin. Swallowing thickly, Nancy chewed on her bottom lip. She stood from her bed, rushing down the stairs when she heard her mom greeting Y/N with excitement. She always loved Y/N. “Y/N,” Nancy exclaimed, stopping on the turn of the stairs. Y/N snapped her head up at the call of her name as did Mrs. Wheeler. “Could I talk to you in my room for a second?” She nodded her head up the stairs, her eyes pleading.  

 “Yeah, of course, Nancy.” Y/N nodded, her voice full of worry and nerves. She was convinced that Nancy was going to break up with her. That this would be the end to Nancy and Y/N. Mrs. Wheeler sent her daughter a wink and a smile, causing Nancy’s cheeks to flush, but Y/N was too wrapped up in her mind to notice it.  The walk to Nancy’s room was short, but right now it felt like the length of Indiana itself. The silence between them was absolutely stifling. Nancy closed the door behind them, not missing the way Y/N moved to the other side of the room - putting as much distance between them as she could. 

  “Hi.” Nancy breathed, turning to face the silent girl. Y/N blinked, obviously filled with anxiety.  

 “You wanted to talk to me?” Y/N reminded, her hands slipping into the pockets of her denim jacket. Nancy cleared her throat, nodding. She took a few hesitant steps towards Y/N, not too many that she made her feel uncomfortable, but enough for her to get closer. From there, she was able to catch a whiff of Y/N’s calming scent from the spring breeze rolling in from the open window. Nancy took the chance to breathe it in, having missed it for the past few days.  

 “Yeah, I realized something while we were apart,” Nancy paused, looking down as she fiddled with her fingers. “I realized a lot actually and I’m not really sure where to start-”  

 “Just start where it feels natural, let your gut choose.” Y/N offered, making Nancy look up at her. The last rays of the sun shining through the window, creating a glow around her, making her look like an angel. Nancy lost her thoughts as she gazed upon her, the hues of pink and orange glowing off her skin, looking like a painting you would find in the Le Louvre.  

 “You mean everything to me,” She exhaled, startled that it had slipped out of her mouth. “Oh wow, okay, guess we are going with that first,” She admitted bashfully, dropping her head to face the carpet to hide the blush dusting her cheeks from Y/N. “I love you Y/N, so much and the reason I ran after you said that was because you were right, right about me being scared,” She sucked a breath in, trying to keep all the mustered up confidence that she had in her. “I was scared of those words, scared of yet another failed relationship and that’s why I was so against us telling people.”  

 “And what about now,” Y/N stepped one step closer, feeling hopeful. “Are you still scared?”  

 Nancy shook her head gently. “A little, but I’m more excited to see where this goes if you still love me.”  

 “Of course I still love you! It would take an awful lot for me not to love you,” Y/N smiled, taking a few more steps towards Nancy. Nancy took two steps, the two meeting in the center of the room, face to face. Their mouths were both stretched into large smiles, matching blushes painting their cheeks as they held each other. “You mean everything to me.” She whispered, leaning her face closer to Nancy’s. Nancy giggled, closing the distance between them to press their lips together.  

 They both welcomed the taste of each other, missing it desperately. Warmth spread through Y/N’s body, feeling like every single nerve was alive with happiness from the touching of their lips. Pulling back from the tender kiss, Nancy still held Y/N tight to her. “I want to tell them.”  

 “Tell them that you like girls and guys?” Y/N questioned, not knowing that Nancy had come out yet. 

 “I already told my family that, they are very accepting, my dad was a bit cold, but mom talked to him,” Nancy told her as if it wasn’t a big deal, but the growth of her smile told Y/N otherwise. “I want to tell them about us. I am pretty sure my mom already knows, I think she knew before I came out, but I want to tell our friends. Tonight.”  

 “Are you sure, I don’t want you to think that you have to do that in order for me to stay with you because I’ll stay with you regardless.” Y/N worried, not wanting to pressure Nancy into anything she didn’t want to do. 

 “I want to, I think it’d be a good baby step for us to slowly not be a secret anymore.” Nancy confirmed, pulling away from Y/N, but keeping one of her hands tightly in her grasp, her eyes twinkling with pure happiness. 

 “Only if you’re sure. You can take the reins on this one in case you change your mind, okay?” Nancy ignored this, pulling Y/N towards the door and into the hall, her fingers intertwining with Y/N’s absent-mindedly. Their hearts beat wildly in their chests as they rushed down the main stairs and dashed to the basement door. The room was already dark, the only light being from the blue screen coming from the TV, the VCR already prepped for the movie night.  

 “ ‘Bout time you two got down here.” Dustin grumbled from his spot on the floor next to Mike. 

 “Sorry, but we had to discuss something that we want to share with you guys,” Nancy could barely contain her excitement as she shared a giddy, love-struck look with Y/N. The group looked at her, Steve and Robin sitting on the couch with their feet propped up on the middle cushion. Max and Lucas sat on the floor with their backs pressed against the couch. “We’re dating, have been for almost a year.” They looked back at the group to see them all sharing looks.

“So,” Mike spoke up, as they all turned to look at the two girls again. “We already knew that. For a while now.” 

 “Wait, what?” Nancy sputtered, her eyes wide, her mouth falling open in shock.  

 “For starters, you guys are not discrete at all.” Steve broke the news, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. Nancy scoffed, rolling her eyes, muttering a small ‘says you’ under her breath, earning a whine from her ex-boyfriend.  

 “Secondly, you should see the way you two look at each other, it was so obvious that you guys were mad for each other,” Robin shrugged. “Now hurry up and sit down so we can start this movie, I’ve been itching to see it.” Robin ordered, pointing to the armchair that was conveniently the only chair left for them.  

 “And we thought this would be ground-breaking news,” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as Nancy led her across the darkroom. Plunking down in the soft chair, Nancy pulled Y/N down to sit on her lap, but Y/N shimmied so that only her legs rested over Nancy’s lap. “I love you.” She hummed, snuggling into her girlfriend.  

 Nancy pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, Angel.”

[zaffrenotes]

[TRR] Kairos

Kairos - Part 12

Pairing: Liam x Riley, Liam x OC Series Rating/Warnings: 18+; language; series will include ns*w 🍋 scenes Chapter Rating/Warnings: G Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * Kairos (καιρός) is a word in Greek that translates to “the right time” or “the right moment to act” * Liam’s wife asks about “the one that got away” one night over dinner, and Liam recounts a relationship from his past * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles​​ Prompt 89: This isn't what I had in mind, but okay. * Author’s Note 2: * I apologize if this chapter feels choppy; I haven't updated this story since January, and writing is H A R D, but I want to finish this AU. I know how it ends, I just have to *gestures at the air* get there. * Word Count: 1708

Catch up with previous chapters here

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for this series): @ao719 @blackcatkita @debramcg1106 @ofpixelsandscribbles @callmeellabella @smalltalk88 @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @choiceskatie @darley1101 @dcbbw @gardeningourmet @iplaydrake @liamxs-world @rainbowsinthestorm @riseandshinelittleblossom @superharriet @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @the-soot-sprite // @alyssalauren @clairexoxo100 @cordonianroyalty @cordonian-literature @gkittylove99 @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @mom2000aggie @pink-diamond13 @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @txemrn @yourmajesty09

The evening carried on, and it was nearly impossible for Liam to pull himself away from one conversation to the next. Most of the new suitors vied for his attention to make a good impression, various nobles edged their way into conversations to discuss official business, and his friends made every effort to steal him away for short reprieves. He was dancing when he caught a flash of Max’s dress near the edge of the dance floor.

Brief glimpses and glances of a link to Liam’s almost-love was all The Fates seemed to grant for the duration of the ball, despite his best efforts to carve out a moment with Max. The irony wasn’t lost on him; having found a connection to Elia after years had passed, without a way to speak with her sister. His hand warmed against his dancing partner’s palm as they waltzed with other couples.

“What’s troubling you tonight? Besides the obvious farce of this whole ordeal.” A pair of cherry red lips curled into a sympathetic grin, and Liam nodded in silent agreement. “Something other than counting steps is running through your mind.”

Liam adjusted his grip on Olivia’s hand as he led her across the floor, quickly scanning the crowd for another glimpse of Max. “I require the assistance of a dear friend,” he answered quietly, twirling her in a circle. “Someone who knows of secret passages in the palace to remain undetected, who can also speak with one of the new ladies at court.”

One of Olivia’s brows arched in Liam’s direction. “Has someone managed to catch your eye already?”

“Not the way you think,” he replied. “It’s a long story, and right now I’m grasping at straws, but it’s…something.” As Liam twirled his childhood friend in another circle, the expression in his eyes conveyed the seriousness of his request.

Olivia’s back tensed when she looked up to meet her friend’s gaze, though they moved effortlessly through the song. “What do you need me to do, Li?”

“There’s a young woman here, wearing a peacock ballgown. Her name is Max.”

“There’s some irony,” Olivia giggled. “Maxwell’s probably talking her ear off over her dress alone.”

“I haven’t been able to speak with her since we were introduced.”

“Tell me when and where, I’ll make sure you converse with her before morning.”

Liam shook his head at the suggestion. “That’s not the kind of conversation I need to have, Liv. I do need to speak with her though. It could mean cancelling the rest of the social season before it’s had a chance to begin, in a good way.”

Olivia arched her brow at Liam again, as the music began to come to an end. “I’m going to need a full story about this very soon, if she’s a means of ending the season.”

Liam let out an anxious laugh. “Soon enough, of course. Get her as close as possible to my office without being seen.” He looked over Olivia’s shoulder to see Bastien by the ballroom doors, nodding at him just before Bastien said something to another member of the Kings Guard. “Enjoy the rest of the ball, I’ve got to go over details for tomorrow’s events. Shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”

--

Nearly an hour after Liam departed the ballroom, he sighed with relief to enjoy the silence in his office once Regina and her team of event planners were satisfied with preparations for the garden party. He poured himself a bit of scotch in a glass as a nightcap, glancing at the clock on the wall. Most of the guests had ventured home while he went over checklists with Regina, minus the suitors and their sponsors that would live at the palace for the next several weeks.

Another weary sigh slipped past Liam’s lips as he returned to the ornate desk in the office, and he removed the cufflinks Madeleine had given to him as a gift. He rolled up his sleeves, trying to ignore the soft ticking of the clock, wondering if Olivia had managed to get a hold of Max. Princess Maria Amelita Xamira Basilio, who had a sister that went by the name Elia. There were too many similarities in her siblings names and the fact that Max looked so similar in appearance to Elia.

He’d opened the laptop on the desk and was about to type Elia’s real name into the search window, when there was a knock at the door. Liam rushed out of his seat to answer, loudly whispering a name when he turned the knob. “Olivia? Is that you?” He was surprised to see Max in the hallway by herself. “Your Highness, please, come in,” he said, stepping aside to let Max pass. “Did anyone see you?”

Max bowed her head to Liam as she stepped into his office. “No, Lady Olivia led me through a number of passages from my room, and distracted the very tall, silver-haired guard down the hall.”

Liam chuckled softly. “That would be Bastien. He’s always had a bit of a soft spot for Olivia, ever since we were children.” He closed the door shut before walking towards the liquor cabinet. “May I offer you something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, taking a seat in one of the small couches. “To what do I owe this clandestine invitation?”

Liam sat down in the matching sofa across from Max, clasping his hands together as he carefully chose what to say next. “Max, you and I are both aware of the reason you’re here, participating in the social season. Under other circumstances, I’m certain you would have caught my eye, just as you did earlier this evening.”

Max chewed a tiny spot of her inner cheek. “There’s a ‘but’, isn’t there?”

“The reason you caught my eye was because you bear a striking resemblance to someone I met several years ago, before I met and married my first wife, Riley. Someone who, until tonight, I thought was lost to me.”

“Are you saying I’ve got a secret twin you’ve already met? This isn’t what I had in mind, but okay.” She grinned conspiratorially at him. “Who’s this doppelgänger that’s stuck with you?”

Liam sucked in a breath before answering. “As it were, it’s your sister. Elia.”

Max blinked at him silently, her eyes welling up with glossy tears at the mention of her name. “You…you knew Elia? When? When did you see her? Have you heard from her?” The questions tumbled out all at once, as Max tried to compose herself.

He picked up a gilded box of tissues from a side table, offering it to her. Max pulled two from the box, dabbing at the corners of her eyes, waiting for a response. “It’s been a number of years,” he began. “She was vacationing in Greece, just before she was supposed to return to university to study law.”

Max stopped dabbing at her tears to look up and study Liam’s face. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the guy.”

Liam’s brows pinched together. “She mentioned me?”

“Very briefly,” she responded. “Only that she met someone that gave her a reason to laugh every day, and seemed to understand what she – what we,” she paused, motioning to herself, “were going through, being…high profile?”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Liam chuckled softly. “She never said outright that she was a princess, but after we parted ways, many of the things we shared in our conversations made sense.” He looked up to see a puzzled expression on Max’s face. “Her fluency in languages, the way she could tell stories about growing up in vivid detail while overlooking things like ‘I grew up in a palace’ or ‘my parents were especially strict with me and my siblings’…”

“Oh by the way, that’s because they’re the king and queen?” Max scoffed lightly, shaking her head.

“I tried to look for her, for quite some time after that trip,” Liam added. “Only…my efforts were in vain, as the names she used were all nicknames. Even her own name wasn’t fully hers. Elia de Leon.”

Max sniffled and the puzzled expression returned to her face. “De Leon? That’s…our great-grandmother’s name.”

“I suppose that makes sense as well, now that I’m familiar with your family name. Had I searched for Elia Basilio, I might have found out about the royal connection, not that it would’ve changed my opinion of her.” Liam ran a hand across his face, his jawline and chin already rough with stubble. “You haven’t heard from her since that summer either? Anyone in your family?”

“No,” Max answered. “When her personal guard called the morning he was supposed to escort her home, he told my parents the apartment was empty…that she must have snuck away the night before.”

“But I was with her until morning.”

“What?”

“I…” Liam hesitated, taking in a breath. “I had dinner with Elia the night before she was supposed to leave. We talked long into the night, and I told her I was a prince. I even offered to let her stay with me here to take more time and consider alternative options to create some distance with your parents.”

“Because they wanted to marry her off, right?”

“Correct,” Liam nodded. “She only told me it was for a political alliance, to put your family name in a positive light after Mariela’s marriage to someone caused trouble.”

Max sighed with indignation. “That guy, ugh. That’s a story for another evening.” She began to wring the tissue between her hands. “But you saw Elia the next morning?”

“Yes, in fact I was the one that slipped out while she was still sleeping, long after dawn. I stopped for a coffee in the café below where she’d been staying, on my way to return home as well, and I…” Liam paused, recalling the man in the café that morning, remembering the other patron. “You said she had a personal security guard assigned to her?”

“Beni…Benigno, yes,” Max replied.

“Do you have a photo of him?”

“I can do better than that,” Max answered, pulling her phone from the pocket of her cardigan. “He’s here as my security and chaperone for the duration of my stay.”

[fascination-street-writing]

For Make Believe and Not So | Part II of II | La Squadra x Reader

To wake up to the sight of your messy hair and eyes softened by sleep is a lovely pleasure in life, but one not granted to him nearly enough. Tonight, however, you will stay and dream of an impossible future together. Tonight, you will save the heartbreak for your better selves.

Link to Part I

Content Warnings: N-SFW Sexual Content

The faux leather of the booth seating creaks with each jostle of laughter and lunge across the table for another shot of liquor. You suppose – after weighing the throbbing of your knees to the disoriented thrum of your head – that you have drank far too much. But you do not care, for you know that you are indeed with good company. Never mind that you had agreed to work opening shift tomorrow, because that is not your trouble now.

Though the music from the speakers blares through the tight space of the bar and patrons shout in jovial cheer to one another, you could not be bothered by the distractions. After all, the game of briscola before you is far more enticing – that, and your team is winning.

Formaggio nudges you in the ribs and discretely flashes you his cards before playing his turn for the both of you. Melone throws his cards down with a groan, withdrawing from the game. If not for Formaggio, you might have done the same; you are lost – utterly and completely lost. Perhaps you would have done better for yourself if you were not currently so intoxicated.

You reach for your ears to twirl your earrings out of habit, only to be met with air. Your silver earrings sit discarded on the table. You remember now; something about Illuso using the reflection to cheat, and Formaggio begging you to take them out. You did so with a shrug, though not entirely certain that your partner’s whim was so embedded in truth. Your earrings were not that shiny.

In the end, the two of you finish the game victorious. The waiter sets down a tray full of cinnamon whiskey shots. A cloud of cigarette smoke engulfs the table as Prosciutto takes a drag and sighs, accepting his defeat. Seated beside him, a look of mortification sweeps across Pesci’s face. “Do I have to?” he asks, eyeing the amber-colored liquid with hesitation.

“You lost, ragazzo,” Formaggio sneers with a smirk. He slides the tray towards the younger man.

“Mhm, losers have to drink up,” you say with a giggle. “You knew the rules.”

Pesci bites his lip. “It’s just – Well I . . . Uh . . .”

Prosciutto rolls his eyes. “Gesù Cristo, Pesci,” he mutters. “If you want to salvage your dignity, then drink.”

The green-haired man turns red in the face. “It isn’t bad, Pesci,” you insist, reaching across the table to tap his knuckles in an attempt of reassurance. “I promise.”

It is enough to goad him, but begrudgingly so. Liquor held at eye level, he swallows his spit before downing it in two – no, three – sips. He sputters and coughs as the whiskey burns his throat. The others laugh, yet he feels as if he has conquered the world, though only for a moment. The way you praise him, like hailing some accolade of his, makes him want to try again. Just to hear you speak so fondly of him.

Alas, the night drones on. Formaggio leaves the booth to chat up the bartender, and Melone wastes no time in claiming the newly vacated space beside you. You do not mind the change in scenery and the way he practically dangles off you, or the comments he throws your way regarding just how much he admires the style of your hair tonight – or, about the way your outfit perfectly accentuates your birthing hips (“That dress was made for you, bella-bella”). It is not until he asks about your blood type that Risotto promptly hoists you from your seat and ushers you to sit betwixt he and Prosciutto. You never had the chance to protest.

“What’s this?” Formaggio asks when he returns with two drinks clutched in his hands – one for you, no doubt. “How the hell are the rest of us supposed to shoot our shot with [Y/N] when she’s sitting between you two?”

His words fly over your head. Your attention is instead trained on the purple concoction he holds. “Speak for yourselves,” Ghiaccio scoffs. “You should have better things to worry about than getting your dick wet.”

“Hey, hey – I never said I didn’t have important things on my mind, but she’s one of them!”

“Wait, what?” you suddenly ask, your interest piqued after receiving your drink.

“Formaggio’s trying to fuck you,” Ghiaccio says with disinterest.

You shake your head and chuckle, chewing on your straw. “Of all the people at this table – no, in this bar – you’re the last person I’d sleep with, Maggi.”

Those cat-like eyes glisten and his jaw drops. The others erupt, and you can only hope that you have not wounded his pride too much. It is all just fun and games, after all. Formaggio points an accusatory finger towards Pesci. “You’d even pick testa di ananas here over me?”

“I said what I said.”

“Mio dio!”

At the end of the night, it is Ghiaccio who agrees to drive you back to your apartment – and reluctantly so. You stumble out to his maroon Alpina with little help from him. You think that he must like watching you trip over the bits of loose cobblestone masonry that line the pathway to the parking lot; even more, you suspect that he does not care for you very much. Or at least, not nearly to the same extent that the others do. It is no matter, for you have learned that you cannot win the favor of everyone. It is one of life’s many daunting natures.

The soft lights of Napoli flash by in a whirl as the car speeds down the road. Admittedly, he drives a bit too fast for comfort – or perhaps it is his attempt at furthering the wedge between you two. When he nearly swerves into oncoming traffic, undoubtedly distracted by something, you wonder if it is his vendetta to get you killed tonight. You suppose he would not risk the insurance claim on his car, however. The thought quells you. But it does not change the matter of your non-existent comradery to the man driving.

He is intelligent – one of most intelligent people whom you have ever met. Yet, his fixating rampages over the most miniscule of things is startling. Frightening, even. More often than not, however, it is he who is the subject of his own rage.

“Ghiaccio, can I tell you something?” you ask, though you know he will tell you to be quiet. You do not give him the chance to say so. “I think that deep down, you’re a nice guy. You just don’t want the others to see it, for whatever reason.”

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

“I had a good time tonight, and I hope you did too. It was nice seeing you let loose a bit.”

To say that he ‘let loose’ is a gross understatement. He refused to join the game of briscola, insisting that it would not be a fair match, and that the lights were too dim to even see the cards properly. He had refused every beverage offered to him – even water. Ghiaccio merely sulked the entire night, making it clear enough that he would rather have been elsewhere.

“It would be nice to do it again, and I –“

“Just, stop,” he hisses, throwing out his fingers in frustration, without releasing the wheel. “Stop talking.”

You huff and look away. The air within the car turns cold. It makes you shiver. “I know you’re just trying to get me to take back what I said, but I won’t. Why can’t you just let me say something nice to you? Why can’t you let me try to be cordial? I’m not asking you to like me or anything. You don’t have to be so hostile, especially when I’ve done nothing wrong to you.”

The car rolls to a halt in front of the townhouse that you share with several other university schoolmates. You expected an attempt at some semblance of an apology, but you were simply hoping for too much from the man beside you. Grabbing your purse, you wrench the door open, failing to notice the ice chips that have formed around the seal. They crackle and shatter on the pavement.

“I’m sorry.”

You thought too soon, it seems. He does not look at you – in fact, he refuses to tear his gaze from the road ahead of him. Stiffly, his jaw juts out in vexation, and you can practically see the gears churning in his mind. He does not know what to say next, yet you have heard all you need.

With a glimmer of a smile, you bid him adieu: “Goodnight, Ghiaccio. Thank you for the ride.”

He watches you hobble up the steps, supposing that he ought to have at least offered to help you inside. But why should he force himself into your servitude when you were the one who chose to drink tonight? Shaking his head, he at least waits until you vanish behind the front door – though not because he wishes you well.  

Certainly not.

Behind closed doors, you have taken a lover. You do not dwell in childish games with one another. In front of the others, you spare the fleeting looks of longing – of insatiable adoration to the man who succeeded in swaying your affection in his favor, and he to yours. You suspect that they must know of the affair, but he insists that your secret has been kept. It is better this way, for all parties involved. Better than souring hearts or making enemies of those who have become your closest of friends.

You suppose that you might feel remorse with each passing of his fingers over the supple perks of your breasts – but guilt does not make your belly swell with anticipation. With a content sigh and a lopsided smile, laced with ardor, he leans over your sprawled form and brushes his lips to yours. He thinks you look like a goddess, naked and tangled in the mess of bedsheets; and perhaps you are, for he has never met a woman as beautiful as you. He pulls away, only to kiss you again, as if to prove to himself that you are real. Goddess or not, you are corporeal.

Do not ask him to say that he loves you, because he will not admit it. And yet, under his gaze, you swear that you have become a daisy flower, potted on a windowsill, and he the preening blue jay, just beyond the reach of the glass. You wish to feel this way forever.

“Do that again,” you command, a nymph-like grin on your face. You reach out a hand to cup his cheek and sweep your thumb over the moon of his cheek.

Illuminated by high-spirits and spent desire, he cocks an eyebrow. “Do what, cara?”

“Kiss me.”

Who is he to deny you? At the peak of your own satisfaction, his lips move to your neck, savoring the warmth of fresh love-bites. You turn your head to give him ample space. You will surely parish in the heat tomorrow, in what will be your decision to wear a turtleneck to cover the blemishes, but that is a problem for your future self. The gentle rumble of a stifled chuckle sends a vibration through you. You bury your fingers in his hair, holding him close – as if he might slip away if only you let go.

“You look pretty like this,” he says without pulling away. You quiver as wetness pools between your thighs. “Sei così bella.”

“And only for you,” you tell him.

He shifts until his trail of kisses have led him to your glistening folds. “Only for me.”

You wait in your own delirium for his mouth to work you open. And he does, until he has had his fill of your balm and saccharine sweetness. You writhe and buckle into his lips. Just before you reach your limit, he stops and beckons you to stand. You do so on shaking legs. He settles against the headboard and you follow suit, straddling his hips and sinking yourself down on his stiffened member. Arms coiled around his neck, you stretch around his shaft and sigh in delight as you contort to his hardness, as if already molded into memory. His hands clasp your hips, urging you along with each jostle of your body.

It is euphoric. Even when you throw your head back in ecstasy and cry out his name, reaching your fill and gifting to him your release, his eyes never leave your face. To wake up to the sight of your messy hair and eyes softened by sleep is a lovely pleasure in life, but one not granted to him nearly enough. Tonight, however, you will stay and dream of an impossible future together.

Tonight, you will save the heartbreak for your better selves.

When a neatly packaged box addressed to the men of La Squadra di Esecuzione arrives on the front doorstep of their hideout – via express mail, no less – Risotto is the one to bring it into the living room, though not because he wants to. He recognizes the penmanship of the scrawled address. He has seen it on dossiers, files, letters of grievances and recommendations, and of course, thirty-six wrapped formalin frames. As always, there is never a return address. But he knows who it is from, even before Formaggio slices through the tape that welds the box shut.

Photographs spill onto the coffee table. Far too many to count, admittedly. And all of them, pictures of you. The first that Melone pulls from the pile is one of you caught in motion, a textbook clutched in your arm and your cellphone held up to your ear – heading to a class amidst the bustle of your university campus, no doubt. A look of exasperation sweeps your face, frozen in an eye roll and a scoff. The next is a photograph of you at work, in mid-conversation with Formaggio, who leans over the front counter. Your hand hovers over the cash register, ready to punch in the total for his order. What the camera did not capture was the smile upon his face as he beamed up at you. He takes the picture from Illuso’s grasp.

The analog lettering in the corner is dated to the very same day that the green-eyed man first visited you at the pizza shop. “Unbelievable,” he hisses. “Unbe-fucking-lievable!”

There is a photograph of you sharing a cigarette with Risotto in a park near your apartment – something that has become an unspoken pastime between you two. There is a photograph of you sitting in Ghiaccio’s car the night of the bar trip; his scowl has been immortalized for the others to see, and for a moment, a twinge of regret eggs him. Another of you in the bar with everyone else, taken through the cloudy glass of the front window, earlier that same night. When the photograph of you and your lover is turned over, all eyes fall to the man – accusatory gazes laden with what might perhaps be anger. But it is not the time to dwell in jealousy and betrayal, because he will lose you soon enough.

“He’s been watching us, all this time.”

Melone begins to flip the photographs over. Despite the tension of the room, something has caught his attention. “Some of these have letters on the back,” he says as he shows the evidence to his squadmates. “This one’s an L. Here’s a P. And an A.”

It is Illuso who understands the intention, though only after finding an E and an I. Lei – she, in reference of course to you. “It’s a message,” he insists.

No one argues. Not even Ghiaccio makes the effort to refute the permissibility of Illuso’s discovery. By the time the code is finally pieced together, the room has grown heavy and odorous of cigarette smoke. Two spent packs litter the floor, but Prosciutto will worry about sweeping the ashes later. He can bear the mess a bit longer, for there is another – far more pressing – that needs tended to. In that tantalizing cursive, the ever-elusive Don of Passione speaks: “Lei è la prossima.”            

She’s next.

No one speaks. How could you, their fondest friend – a woman who delivers pizza to fund her way through her studies – have fallen into Passione’s snare? “It wasn’t enough that he killed Sorbet and Gelato,” Illuso sneers. “Now this? Now her?”

Risotto is quick to shut him down. “I told you to forget about them,” he reminds the men. “I told you to – ”

“How are we supposed to do that when this shows up at our doorstep?” It is Melone who interrupts. Risotto stiffens. “How are any of us supposed to forget about Sorbet and Gelato when the situation is about to repeat itself? We can’t, and you can’t expect us to.”

“I can, and I will. And I expect the same to be done of her.” The man with black sclerae cannot even utter your name. Even the thought of it makes his chest tighten. “From this point on, I am prohibiting all of you from seeing her. If not for your sakes, then hers.”

Truly, each man in the room already knew the daunting solution – they simply did not wish to hear it uttered aloud. Your safety and well-being are important to them; it just so happened that the bond you share has put your life in jeopardy. They will not be the reason for your death. “So, who’s going to tell her?” Pesci asks.

“Why bother?” Ghiaccio huffs. “What part of ‘forget about her’ don’t you understand, mammoni?”

Pesci casts his gaze downward to avert the glare of the hot-tempered man. No man in the room volunteers. Their leader supposes that it ought to be his duty – to assume the responsibility, considering that it was his insistence. But, despite the stoicism, he never has been good at saying farewell.

“I’ll do it.”

Prosciutto steps forward, and the others are grateful for it. “It seems that, in the Don’s attempt to herd us like sheep – to weaken us into subordination – he’s instead succeeded in creating enemies for himself.”

He releases a puff of cigarette smoke. Perhaps he should have held it in for a bit longer, until his lungs swelled, and his head grew dizzy – because in the end, he feels nothing.

Aprile in Napoli is, you think, the loveliest time of the year. The pavement is slick with afternoon rain, but it does not trouble you in the slightest. In truth, you enjoy the smell of rain – it is purity and earth, and a fresh start. You peddle to a stop just before the row of graffitied townhouses at Vivo Pallonetto Santa Chiara. This time, there is no dog to gawk at you through a window. No child in rags to run past you with a stolen purse. No pizzas with sausage, eggplant, or porcini mushrooms, either.

Only you and your shattered heart.

You do not bother to tether your bike in place, because you will not stay long. With each step on the cracked concrete stairwell, it becomes harder to breathe, and you imagine that you are traversing your own ascension. Only, there is no heaven at the top – unless heaven is a locked door. In that case, you want little to do with her. You find the key buried within your purse, amongst gum wrappers, a bottle of vitamins, and receipts that ought to have been thrown out long ago.

You had not known what to say to the young man – no, the boy – with golden hair and turquoise eyes who met you in a black Maserati with tinted windows. You had not known what to say when he handed you an envelope with money and the key. Something of compensation for their family, he had said, to get along after their deaths. Had they even had family outside their tightly woven niche? You never knew. Your tongue grew heavy like lead: you did not thank the boy, but he did not expect you to. Instead, you sat in the backseat of his car and wept, moistening the expensive upholstery with tears.

There were no funerals. No memorial services. No solidary condolences. Only money to finish your studies, loneliness, and a key.

You begged the chauffer to pull over. You exited the car without so much as a contemplation of gratitude. There you stood, in some distant courtyard of a café, where you had met Prosciutto one last time just months ago. Or maybe it has been years. Grief has a way of making time pass slower. Perhaps you are already an old lady – or perhaps, only twenty and some more.

He greeted you with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a peculiar tiredness to his eyes. You moved to take a seat, but he held out his hand to stop you. You understood what he wanted – he wanted you to walk with him until you reached the park where too many times before you sojourned with Risotto. Only then, with Prosciutto instead, the sight of the neatly cropped grass made your stomach curl.

“Don’t make this difficult for me,” the blonde man said, all the while avoiding your furrowed brow and gaping mouth. “But you need to stop coming around. It’s better this way, for all of us and yourself.”

Do not be difficult – and so, you do not beg or cry, nor do you ask questions. You had always known that dangerous men did not make safe company. You knew, forever in your soul, that Eden did not last forever; and one day, you would have to leave. Prosciutto stubbed his spent cigarette on the heel of his shoe. You thought he meant to reach for a new one, but you did not give him the opportunity to.

He never said you could not hug him. And so, you did. Face buried in the lapel of his suit jacket, you spoke: “I know it’s not any of my business why, so I won’t ask,” you told him. His breath hitched. “It’s not my place to pry. Oh, I’ll miss you all so terribly, but, in the end, I wish you the best.”

His arms encircled your back, hesitant to return the gesture of your affection. At first, he merely hovered; yet, when you moved to pull away, he held you, tight. “I told you not to make this hard,” he mumbled into your hair. Vanilla – your hair smelled like vanilla. “Be good, bella ragazza. Stay safe for us, huh?”

“You too, Prosciutto.”

You insert the key into the lock. A part of you wishes it will not fit – that you can turn around and leave this wretched place that you love so dearly; why bother with something that will only make you wish you had not done it? Alas, the knob clicks. It is closure you seek, and you open the door. You could have prayed for a nasty little prank. That, sitting on the couch, Formaggio would be waiting for you, with a lopsided grin on his face, asking what took you so long?

Prosciutto might be cooking pasta and puttanesca in the kitchen, simply because he knows it is your favorite. Pesci might be watching a game of soccer on the television, glad for a new spectator to endorse his commentary. Illuso might be standing there, offering you a glass of wine to share with his own – a toast to the end of an arduous week, or just because he feels like it. Melone might beckon you to sit on the floor so that he can give you a back massage after your long night of running around Napoli. Risotto might be brooding in silence, though his demeaner brightens whenever you enter the room; and already, his fingers will begin to itch at the anticipation of slipping away for a cigarette with you. And Ghiaccio . . . Well, maybe Ghiaccio might scoff at your intrusion, but you would welcome it all the same.

But it is only you and your thoughts. With a shudder and a sigh, you sit down on the couch. The springs contort beneath your weight. Cobwebs adorn the walls like autumn decorations. Dust collects on the furniture. Everything has been left out as if they all might walk through the door at any moment and resume their allotted daily leisure.  A tear trickles down your cheek. You wipe it away and hold your breath until your eyes dry and you cannot cry. They would not want to see you like this, and you know that it is best to just move on with your life. To reach for the opportunities that were never permitted to them.

Your cellphone vibrates – a phone call from a schoolmate. Against your better judgement, you flip the screen open and accept. “Hey, [Y/N]!” she says to you. “We’re still meeting up to study tonight, right?”

You look to your watch. You were supposed to be at the library twenty minutes ago – this little detour of yours has not come without consequences. “Um, yeah,” you tell her. Your voice echoes in the dark space of the room. It makes you wince. “Sorry, I just lost track of the time. I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Well, if you’re going to keep me waiting, I’ll get us some coffees. Addio!”

You toss the key on the coffee table, atop a stack of over-turned photographs that you cannot be bothered to look at. It is none of your business, anyways. Or at least, that is what you told Prosciutto. At the door, you turn the lock, prepared to seal it all away. In the hue of the setting sun, you cast one final longing gaze into the living room. With the shaking of your head, you shut the door behind you and take your first step forward, though not before uttering to vacancy of that which was once irrefutable happiness.  

“Arrivederci, amici miei.”

| 4364 Words | Epilogue |

[otenamihurricane]

GABULI - Antisystem’s Prologue “Room 101″ english translation! :)

Two men are alone in a dimly-lit room.

The only possessions either man carry are the roles they have been given - the Interrogator and the Subject. Any additional information about the two - name, age, shoe size - is irrelevant to this case. What is relevant, however, is the questioning that will shortly begin, and the figures that the questioning will concern: the young men known as Liu and Tough, and the many mysteries which surround them.

*　　　*　　　*

“…Help me…” The Subject, bound in handcuffs and struggling to push past the fear in his throat, begins to speak. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Whatever is to happen to you is entirely irrelevant to the matter at hand.” The Interrogator remains completely still as he replies, his voice cold. “Remember your place in these proceedings. I am the one who will be asking the questions here.”

The walls of the room are windowless, and not a single timepiece can be found within. The Subject, perception of the passage of time failing him, finds himself unsure whether he had been thrown into the interrogation room mere minutes ago, or if it had happened weeks prior. But what scares him far more than not knowing how long he has been here, is not knowing how much longer this situation will last.

*　　　*　　　*

“I suppose it’s time to begin questioning. I want you to tell me what you know about that pair of troublemakers from the slums, Liu and Tough.” “I don’t know anything about those guys, I swear.” “Don’t lie to me.” “I’m not! I swear I’m not lying! No matter what you ask me, I won’t have any answers for you.” “Everyone I’ve questioned has said the exact same thing.”

The Interrogator stares down at the Subject, his eyes seeming to pierce through his very being and see all the way down into the depths of his heart.

“However, once I’ve got their jaw pried open and begin pulling their teeth one by one, they always change their tune. Crying that they’ll tell me everything they know if it means I’ll let them keep the teeth they have left. I wonder if you’ll react the same?”

The Subject’s expression stiffens. The Interrogator smiles faintly, before producing a small glass container. “Do you know what this jar contains?” “…??” “Jelly beans. The kind that Liu always keeps on his person. Tell me, why does he eat these so often? What secret purpose do they have?” “…Secret? Um, I think… he just likes them…?”

The Interrogator shakes his head, seemingly unsatisfied with the Subject’s answer. “That isn’t all there is to this. There’s clearly some other motive at play here. It doesn’t matter how much he likes them; no normal person would eat such a large amount of candy in a single day.” “Well, I mean, he’s not really a normal person, is he?” “You’re right about that. I’m very familiar with the kid’s eccentricities myself; the fact that he “isn’t normal” isn’t what I wanted to hear from you. What I did want to hear from you was the effect that high-volume consumption of these jelly beans has on the human body. There’s no doubt that this is directly linked to the abilities he possesses.”

The Subject only stares back blankly, seemingly completely clueless as to what the Interrogator is trying to say. Growing impatient, the Interrogator makes a noise of frustration before adjusting the lamp upon the desk, angling the bulbs directly towards his Subject. A jolt of pain sears through him as he is suddenly overcome by the intense light.

*　　　*　　　*

“Let’s discuss a different subject. I trust you’ve seen the tattoo Liu has upon his arm?” “Yeah, of course.” “Are you aware of the meaning behind it?” “No, I’m not, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know himself. Poor kid can’t stand that the one mystery he’s never been able to solve is one that’s inscribed right onto him.” “So, you’re saying that he wasn’t tattooed of his own accord?” “I guess not… I mean, it’s kinda hard to know anything about him for certain - he doesn’t really like to talk about himself, and he usually keeps a pretty big distance from other people. The only person he ever lets his guard down around is Tough.”

“Well, why don’t you tell me more about Tough, then?” “That kid’s simple to a fault, kinda comes off as an idiot sometimes. But, God, it’s scary how strong he is. No matter who he’s up against, he can knock ‘em down in the blink of an eye. …Speaking of, there’s this one rumour I’ve heard going around. Apparently Tough really likes playing hide-and-seek for some reason. But he never hides; he takes on the role of seeker, every single time.”

The Interrogator thinks deeply about the strange rumour presented to him, drumming his fingers upon the desk. Watching the movement, the Subject suddenly finds his eyes drawn to the man’s fingernails. They are strikingly neat, carefully filed to perfection. In this moment, the gap between the fortunate and the less-fortunate couldn’t have felt any wider.

*　　　*　　　*

“You tell nothing but lies.”

The Interrogator suddenly ceases tapping at the desk and begins to speak.

“As did your parents, and their parents as well, and their parents’ parents before them. They are all nothing but liars. And, to tell the truth, I myself am very experienced at lying as well. We as humans owe our very existence to our ability to lie - constructing ourselves as a species from a long string of falsehoods, creating our desired fiction and designating it history."

Listening intently to the words of the Interrogator, the Subject nods.

“Let me tell you something. This room is known as Room 101. However, it is not the only Room 101 within this building. There are hundreds of interrogation rooms, each identical, each bearing the same designation of number 101. Do you understand the reason why? The fiction we compose in turn composes the world itself. And within that fiction, you and I are merely playing the roles of “Interrogator” and “Subject” as the narrative demands. Tell me, are you and I any different from our shadows?”

Upon the cold, lifeless wall, two cold, lifeless figures are cast. The Subject gazes upon them as he considers the role he has been chosen to play.

*　　　*　　　*

“I tell nothing but lies.”

The Interrogator’s voice rings out through the stale air.

“Within the fictional location known as Room 101, the moment any phrase is uttered it becomes a lie. The blackest crow, in an instant, becomes the purest white. And thus it becomes clear: the only thing you can do is lie.”

“…I can only tell lies?”

“That’s right! Our lies become truth, and we surpass the paradox!!”

Unable to contain his excitement, the Interrogator stands from his chair. The movement causes the lamp to topple, and the shadows cast upon the wall erratically shift and warp.

“Within this world, there are certain lies that must not be questioned, truths that must not be uncovered. But according to information we’ve received, there is a group of unregistered slum-dwelling non-citizens, a group of NoIDs, who aim to violate the taboos that have been put in place. And at the centre of it all is Liu, who will uncover the truth at any cost, and Tough, who will take out anybody in their way. What are they planning? What kind of expression are they hiding behind those masks?”

The Subject simply grins widely in response. The Interrogator can only grimace back at him before he is interrupted by the phone as it begins to ring.

“Hello? …W-- What!?”

In a panic, the Interrogator rushes to switch on the nearby monitor. The television feed springs to life, proudly displaying a group of NoIDs wearing yellow raincoats and masks breaking into a government residence. More images appear in succession - the forgery of famous artworks, the destruction of the slums with no regards for its residents - truths that the authorities had a great interest in suppressing, now being laid out for the world to see.

“Stop the broadcast! Right now!”

As the Interrogator shouts into the receiver, the Subject brings his fists down on the desk. The sound of his handcuffs hitting the surface rings out once, then twice, then many times in succession. And then, as if in response to his call, the same sound begins to resound through the walls - hundreds of handcuffs beating against hundreds of desks in hundreds of instances of Room 101. The building is engulfed in a deafening noise.

── This is the noise of those left behind by society, shouting their opposition to the world. ──

[jamiedc-they-them]

Legacies and the people behind them Part II (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: A year or so later with your family, you are brought on for another job involving a dead man you called a friend and another friend trying to get you to see the good in your powers that all had done bad What could go wrong?

“How was Y/N?” Deke asked, still a bit bitter at not hearing about his grandad’s passing. Still, you were his friend, and you had – apparently – returned, even if he hadn’t seen you yet.

“They were fine. Good fighter. Saved my ass multiple times.” Daisy responded with as she checked the Zephier once again, doing anything to avoid faux Coulson downstairs. She missed Deke’s little smile.

“Yeah, they always were up for a good scrap when it came to it…I’m glad they found you,” Daisy stopped what she was doing and turned to him, “Really, I think you’ve been a great help. Especially when it comes to her – you know,” He held out his hand as you both would to use your ability, “That whole thing.” He was little awkward at that one.

Daisy nodded slowly, “Yeah…haven’t seen them use that a lot out there. Not much time to cover it and all, given our hunt and small ship to practice in.” Daisy admitted, going back to work.

That made Deke’s smile drop, “What? But, I thought –”

“I would’ve, Deke. Trust me, I want them to get a hang of it. But…whenever I try and do it, they just…hide from it.” She almost sounded a little sad at having to admit that.

Deke then nodded, “Always did scare them.”

Daisy nodded too, “You know, I keep telling them that it’s ok to be scared, but that they’re a gift, not a curse. Just seems to fall on deaf ears; definitely a Johnson trait they got from me.” Daisy forced a chuckle at her own words.

But, she then paused, an idea struck.

 You, meanwhile, were in your room. Despite being a Johnson, you were definitely more introverted than Daisy was. She had no issue with that, of course, just something of note.

But one thing that was, you could tell, of note and concern was the way you didn’t Quake anyone at all on your journey to find Fitz, even when high.

If anything, that just amplified your fear.

You heard a knock at the door. Opening, you saw Daisy there.

She gave you a smile, “I need you for something.” She said, getting right to it.

Despite the smile, you knew it was to disarm you, “Daisy –” You said, putting your head against the doorway.

“It’s with Coulson.” That made you look up, “I can’t do this alone. And…I think it’ll be good practice for you –”

“No.” You were the one who was blunt now, eyes sharp and sure of your answer.

She sighed, “Y/N, I get that you’re scared –”

“I’m terrified. I – we saved the world, but I’m not even meant to be here yet. Like…what if I do it now.”

She saw so much of herself in you, “Y/N…I’d never let that happen.”

“Yeah, well, be too late by then.” You forced out your chuckle at your words.

“I’ll be right here. I’ll be with you the whole time. Ok, promise.” She swore to you.

She knew she didn’t make promises lightly. And you knew that you were now, officially an agent. So, it was your duty to go after the weird shit.

You sighed, “Let’s go.” You agreed.

Daisy’s smile grew, but now it had a supportive edge to it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had seen Sarge like once, but my god if he wasn’t a carbon copy of Coulson. Well, in everything but personality.

And, almost immediately, Daisy’s promise died, “You, hacker, with me.” Sarge ordered.

“I’m ok back here.” Daisy said, knowing that you were silently distressed by his demand.

He turned and looked back at you all with a cold expression, “I need an extra pair of eyes in front. Motormouth is busy, and last time Smiles was up there she tried to kill me. And the antithesis to Motormouth is living up to the name, but I’ll took to them later, so...”

“She’s your OG crew. Take her.” Daisy said, pointing to the female who was indeed on Coulson’s – Sarges original crew.

“Snowflake stays here. You don’t trust me, I don’t trust you. So, take a seat in front or tell your boss to send me someone useful.”

Daisy looked to you, putting a hand on your shoulder, “I’ll be back, promise.” She then left you. And, after you looked to Deke, who gave you a tiny smile before becoming enamoured with Snowflake once again, yourself and May went to sit down.

You were in for a long ride.

“Daisy told me about how you fought while you were away. Glad to see the training came in handy.” May said as you both sat on the sofa. You kind of liked the silence, the way the road made the vehicle bounce.

You felt the vibration from it, and you felt it probably more than she did.

You knew May was a keen observer of things, so you knew you had to be careful.

“She told me –”

“I get what you’re trying to do. I don’t need them, not here. Besides, if we do, Daisy will use them. She controls them better.” You argued, knowing where this was going.

May just held your stare as she spoke, “We could always use another –”

“Yeah, well, I think one Johnson blowing up the world is enough.” You did not want to sound mean, but still.

“It won’t if you control it. Daisy can help.” May seemed adamant to not let it go, “I know you can feel the vibration. I know you feel the urge to do something with them. It’s ok to –”

“All this thing’s ever done is hurt. I hurt Daisy with it when I first met her; hurt myself when I was ‘training’. If I could get rid of it, I would.”

May went to talk, when Daisy left the room, “You, pebbles, you’re up next.” Sarge ordered.

You gulped; you weren’t going to lie if you weren’t nervous. You felt the vibrations more then, you felt your body itching for you ability to be used. You clenched your hand in a fist.

You met the eyes of Daisy, “You got this.” She told you, trying to make you believe the words. You nodded, smiling a bit in thanks for them. You appreciated them.

Just like other words of encouragement she has given you on a certain topic, they were appreciated, but not believed.

You entered his cabin; it looked like any normal truck cabin. To be honest, he looked like a normal man.

So did you. So, you had that in common.

“Daisy says you’re have something different about you too.” Jesus, seemed everyone wanted to talk about this topic, huh?

“Sure. Just as you’re something else too.”

“Touché. And, before you ask about the face, no I don’t care.”

“Good, I wasn’t. You gonna ask me about my ‘gift’.”

Sarge scoffed, “I’m interested. But, your friend seemed almost desperate, even moved the conversation onto that. Seems you’ve got someone protective.”

“More like insistent on my abilities.”

Sarge chuckled, “You got people who care. But, you don’t control that thing, it’ll be the end of you all. You’ll be the weak link, you’d be vulnerable.”

His words hit you; hard. Sure, Daisy had talked about a worry with your abilities; you even had your own insecurities. But…this. This hurt.

You didn’t reply. You didn’t want to become any weaker.

You didn’t want to be the end of them all.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You left, seeing that apparently Deke had made a playmate. Daisy and May came to you when they saw you leave.

“You ok?” Daisy asked.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, fine.” You said, feeling the urge with your ability more and more.

Daisy and May shared a look, clearly not believing yours.

However, Sarge then came out. He looked to you, only. You, however, got a better read on him this time.

Seemed, almost, that your words to him and openness made him want to open up a little with you.

You smiled a bit, you were getting somewhere.

“Chronyca-2 was the closest we came to stopping her. We took out her crew, we had her trapped…and then she was gone. We have no idea how.” He told you as he brewed…something, and you guys drank from your mugs.

“After you destroyed the planet?” May questioned.

“We didn’t destroy it. By the time we got there, it had already begun. But, this time, we’re one step ahead. We can keep it from happening here. All of us, with all our abilities.” You just knew he threw that last bit in for you. Daisy snuck a glance to you, but your eyes was only on the man.

May then pushed, after the pause, “What’s her motive?”

“Hatred, for all living things.” Well, then.

“What’s yours?” Daisy asked that one.

“Love,” you all looked at him with doubting looks, “No, it’s hate. That’s my thing, too. Hate and revenge.” There you go.

“She took my family from me. I won’t stop until she pays for that.” It was honest.

“How do we stop her?” You asked, speaking up now.

Sarge rose, going to grab an object. He showed it to you, “There’s only one way to kill the beast.”

It was –

“A galaxy hopping hate-beast that eats planets and you want to defeat her with a, um, sword?” Daisy scoffed, not being able to hide the amusement.

“It’s sharp, feel it.” He offered.

“Yeah, gonna have to pass on that one.” You said, Daisy looked to you with a smirk.

“Well, I’ll tell you what it’s really made of once you tell me your secret.” You knew what that meant.

He went for Daisy with the blade, but it was shot out of his hand the next moment by a strong and concentrated – well, kind of – gust of wind.

Daisy looked to your outstretched hand, eyes wide. She then looked back as Sarge picked it up again, she then sent it up to the ceiling with a more controlled blast.

“There they are. Hacker, and silent, huh?” So, he knew. And you had – thankfully – not destroyed anything.

His device then pinged, “It’s starting.” That was concerning.

“What’s starting?” May asked.

“The end.” That was even more concerning.

As you all went to the cabin, you saw just what ‘The end’ was. It was a tower, a massive one made of what looked like to be spikes.

Or, as you coined the term when Sarge explained them, Shrike spikes.

His plan was even worse. May even scoffed at it. Now, apparently, SHIELD had some shit plans in the past, but with Sarges, it seemed to almost take the cake.

It was to simply plough into the tower, then stab Izel when she came down.

Yeah, failproof.

Deke came back with what he had been working on, apparently a thing to help attract the Shrike.

Then the call from your friends came in.

Then came what would be your end if you didn’t act quick.

So, you and Daisy both held out your hands just in case. Just in case you needed to do this.

As he explained his plan, he then looked to you, “You won’t do it. You’ll just hit the bomb and set if off too early.” Wit the look in your eyes and how it shifted, he could tell he was right, “As I said, weakest link.”

With Snowflake realising this was it and shrieking (ha), Sarge used it to escape. Daisy went to quake the door, but May stopped her.

Then it was a desperate search. You ignored all the chatter, you could only hear the heartbeat thudding your ears as you looked. You felt the vibrations more, you felt the urge more and more.

You then happened to look over and saw that Deke held the bomb. It was glowing, pulsing. It was bigger than you thought it would be.

Deke looked around, meeting your eyes with his wide ones.

Fuck.

The world to you was a buzz, the vibrations getting more and more. You saw Daisy saying something to Deke, but you could tell she was antsy. You could tell she was scared. You could feel it in the vibrations of her footsteps, the vibration of her heartbeat. It was beating faster than your own.

You felt it pick up more as Deke looked at you all with a sorrowful expression. You felt a hand in your hand, seeing Daisy look at you with what was an attempt at a comforting smile.

“But, you don’t control that thing, it’ll be the end of you all. You’ll be the weak link, you’d be vulnerable.” You remembered Sarge saying.

You were vulnerable right now. And a bomb that was going to go off was in front of you.

You looked to Daisy, and you clenched your free fist, before you pushed her towards May and ran to the bomb. Then the lights went out.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lights came back on, and Daisy heard it. She heard it. It was the first thing she heard.

That familiar hum.

She opened her eyes, seeing you, both hands out, a look of pure concentration on your face. She saw the way you were sweating. She saw the way you weren’t fighting it anymore. She saw the way you were putting your all into it.

She saw the way you put the nuke back in the bomb. She caught you when you fell back, panting for air.

“You did it. You did it.” You told you.

Now, you had one more issue, the Shrike. The tower had been destroyed, but now they had been unleashed. And they were hungry and pissed.

So, guess who the target was?

You all got panels for the windows. You heard them. You didn’t know how many, but you knew you didn’t want to find out. All you wanted was to keep them away.

You could deal with Sarge later.

You had done what you could, but then they went silent.

You and Daisy shared a silent look, you felt it too.

Together, you both went to the door, opening it and looking up at them. Instantly, they swarmed down.

You both looked back at your friends, telling them to hold back.

Together, you held out your hands…waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Finally, they entered…

Only to turn to dust.

You had done it, your mission was completed. You had made it.

[cycat4077]

When the Time is Right

Summary: Is it time to take your relationship to the next level?  Set at the start of S18 - roughly August 2016. Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Mature themes...of the NSFW variety, some cussing, fluff, feels, etc. Words: 1927 AO3 here

Technically part 12 in the Changes verse, but can act as a stand-alone.

Consider this a Valentine’s day themed thingy even though it’s set in August 🥰

"It's weird I guess," you say in between sips of tea, "how some parts of our relationship have happened so quickly, like meeting his parents right away, while other parts of it aren't rushed at all. For instance, the two of us were complete idiots and it took a couple of months to formally say ‘I love you’." The admission makes you chuckle, but as you look up from your drink, the devious grin pasted across your friend’s face tells you that she’s hung up on one small detail.

"You guys haven't done it yet, have you?" blurts Sydney, sitting wide-eyed across from you on her sofa.

You're normally a pretty private person so you can't help it when your cheeks start to burn, effectively giving away your secret.

"You haven't!" she exclaims, eagerly setting down her teacup, ready for details.

"Syd!"

The blonde raises her arms in mock defense. "Hey, hey! There's nothing wrong with it but it's kind of a rarity to not be in each other's pants by now!"

You grow even more self-conscious, tracing the rim of your mug handle as a distraction.

"Listen,” Sydney begins sternly, “he's super nice to you and charming and sweet, so I just wanna make sure he's not -"

But you interrupt her before she can make the accusation. "Sonny isn't like that," you state, adopting a firm tone of your own. "We just haven't gotten there yet...there's been no rush. I feel totally comfortable around Sonny and he's never once made me feel like we should be doing anything."

"Good," she asserts. "I just want to make sure you're not being played because the good ones are really hard to find."

Ever since you met in college, Sydney has been fiercely protective of you, and clearly that side of her is something that's never changed. Despite her thirst for details, you also know that you can truly trust her so you suppose there's no harm in opening up a little. "I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it,” you confess sheepishly. “I went on the pill not long after we started dating because you never know, but our lives have been so busy and messy. Especially this summer. We've had our ups and downs - some beyond our control and some were issues that we've worked out together. I really feel like we've come out of it stronger and the more we experience together, the more I’m certain that Sonny is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Sydney cracks a goofy smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Corny. I know," you wave dismissively, "but I can't help loving him more and more each day. Our relationship is so special to me and personally, sex is one of the most intimate things a couple can do. It's about love. So, waiting for the right time isn't a big deal. If anything, it will just bring us that much closer."

"Girl, you're crazy lucky!” chimes Sydney, affectionately. "And there's nothing wrong with waiting to bang. You remember me from back in the day and how I had my fair share of ‘promiscuous encounters’. Actually, with Geoff..." Sydney's eyes narrow as she recollects her ex, "fuck, do I wish we had waited! He said all the right things and made all the right gestures. Our relationship moved so fast! We hit the milestones at a hundred miles per hour…and I believed it! But then the cheating started. When I found out - and I still feel this way sometimes - when I think about having slept with him, I feel so dirty and cheap." She ducks her head and you can tell that the wound still smarts.

"You can't blame yourself for his behavior!" you rationalize, wishing your friend wouldn't be so hard on herself.

"I know! And I don't, but it's that shame and embarrassment of knowing I was so foolish to believe there was love there. Even the thought of having given myself over to him in that way makes me wanna upchuck. Hell, those one-night stands where the guy dips out as soon as he finishes don't feel as cheap or degrading. So, hon, there's nothing wrong with the pace you're moving at. Believe me. Maybe if I had waited longer with Geoff, his true colours would have shone through earlier..."

"It's in the past, Syd," you reason, "and you know what is special about that? It goes to show you how much you can trust and love someone. And even though Geoff was a total asshole, there's gonna be a guy out there for you someday who will be worthy of all that."

Sydney smiles despite herself. "You're a total sap, you know that, right?" You grin at her and nod proudly. "But I love ya for it." She then leans across the sofa and gives you a grateful hug. Parting, Sydney continues. "You'll know when the time is right," she reassures you. "You may talk about it or it may just happen, but you and Sonny are the mushiest, most in-love couple I've ever seen, so I know you'll be just fine."

-x-

Nights in with Sonny are the best. Lately you both had been so busy. Sonny was working overtime on top of double shifts, while you were occupied with perfecting your new course curriculum before the semester started.

When the two of you were finally able to have an evening off, you'd find something to eat and just lounge on the couch; maybe pop in a movie and sit snuggled up together. You didn't need to be doing anything in particular to enjoy each other's company.

Sometimes though, those cozy moments strayed towards other forms of physical affection. To put it in simple terms: you’d make out…And tonight happened to be no different.

"This movie's dumb," grumbles Sonny, leaning his head on the back of the sofa.

"Yep," you agree, staring blankly at the tv screen.

Sonny then turns his face towards you, offering a cheeky grin. "At least tha company's good."

You flop yours in his direction. "I suppoooose so," you tease with a roll of your eyes.

Sonny pouts and you laugh at how ridiculous he looks. When his put-on expression doesn't crack, you decide it's time to steer the evening towards a more preferable form of entertainment. "Y'know, if you don't stop making that face, I'm gonna have to wipe it off you myself." There's a deliberate hint of suggestion in your voice and you bite your lip to make your intentions crystal clear.

With a gleam in his eye, Sonny playfully deepens the curl of his frown which obviously leaves you with no choice but to reach out, nab his jaw and pull him to your lips. His arm encircles you and his hand presses against your back to coax you near. The quick peck blossoms into several more deep and passionate kisses; the two of you barely able to spare a breath in between.

As things continue to heat up you climb over and straddle Sonny’s lap. To your delight, this move elicits an 'Mmm!' of pleasant surprise from the Italian detective’s throat. Your hair falls over your shoulder as you peer down into his swirling blue eyes. "Hi," you grin quietly.

Sonny stares up at you in wonder. His hands fix themselves to the small of your waist. "Hey," he returns softly as the corners of his mouth cradle a gentle smile.

You hold his gaze a moment longer, soaking in the view. You're still in awe that the man before you is all yours, but as you lean down to capture his lips, you're reassured of your reality. Sonny mirrors your every move, matching your passion. The kisses grow even more heated. Your fingertips work at his silver temples while Sonny's hands burn up your skin where they've snuck themselves beneath your shirt. A gentle but firm squeeze is all it takes for your hips to involuntarily grind down against his.

Suddenly, Sonny raises your bum off of his lap. "What's wrong?" you ask with worry.

He shuts his eyes reluctantly before opening them to you, brow furrowed and expression vulnerable. "It's just...well, if we keep this up..." He winces and his cheeks turn pink.

You shift your knees on the sofa to steady yourself and raise your own eyebrows in understanding. "Oh," you say, growing quiet and nervous. The two of you never did get around to a discussion on taking things further, which left you to wonder where Sonny stood on the matter.

Ever the gentleman, he delicately tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "I just don't know if we're ready for...this."

"Babe," you sit back on his thighs, rubbing your palms soothingly along his shoulders. "Do you want to wait? I know your beliefs are a little firmer than mine."

"Nuh-no! It's not that!" he exclaims. "I just don't wanna move too fast for you!" Sonny too, turns timid as he speaks.

You can't help but smile down at him. What had you done to deserve such a sweetheart? You recall the conversation with Sydney from a couple weeks ago. She was right.

"I believe in love," you breathe, running your thumb tenderly along his cheek, "and I love you more than anything."

"I love you too, doll," echoes Sonny, the confidence returning to his voice.

You kiss him again. It's long and lingering, reigniting the flame between you. Sonny draws you to his chest and you link your arms behind his neck. "I want this, if you do," you speak in a soft voice.

"I want this too. I want you...so much." The reply is almost a whisper, his lips mere inches from your own.

Emboldened, you withdraw and stand up, your skin tingling where his fingers brush along your waist. Never breaking eye contact, you reach out your hand. Sonny accepts and you lead him to the bedroom.

-x-

The next morning you awake to orange licks of early sunlight flickering through the blinds. Sonny's arm surrounds you, clutching you to his bare chest. His heavy breathing sounds beside your ear and you think it impossible for life to be any more perfect. You snuggle your naked form closer into his, wishing to stay in his warm embrace forever.

Then Sonny begins to stir. "Mornin' beautiful," he says, Staten Island accent heavy with sleep.

"Morning," you turn over in his arms to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He releases you, propping his head up on an elbow. "Last night was..."

"Wow," you finish with a flirtatious grin.

Sonny sighs dreamily, "yeah." He then takes a finger and beings tracing light circles over your exposed shoulder. "Kinda wish we'd done that sooner." His tone is husky but his eyes are filled with affection.

"We've got our whole lives ahead of us, Sonny," you offer before delicately sweeping a piece of his hair away from his forehead.

You watch his blue eyes soften and crinkle at the corners. Dimples form from his smile. But instead of answering, he simply leans forward and kisses you.

Last night wasn't just physical; you found a whole new connection with Sonny. One deeply rooted in attraction but brought to life and nurtured by love. It was like you were completely in synch, giving and taking from one another wholly and completely. And, as you once again melt into his kiss, you know that everything had worked out just as it was meant to be.

---

Part 13 here!

A/N: I really love this fic. I've had it in my drafts for a long time and I really wanted to find the perfect place to add it into the series. I'm no expert but it kind of ticks me off how the media portrays physical relationships to be the holy grail...like it's a make or break type thing or that people need to be physical to fall in love. So, I tend to gravitate towards character-couples who do the opposite...and to me, Sonny seems like the type who values an emotional connection over a purely physical one. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed reading this fic! The last paragraph is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written!

[miraculous-mare]

Brooklyn Brawl

Hi guys, long time no see! This fic is based on a request I got in January that I’ve been chipping away at for past month or so, which said: how about a dickinette salt fic? the class gets attacked while in Gotham and Marinette who is already dating dick helps fight back in civilian clothes and they end up flirting in front of the entire class and maybe Lila gets exposed because she told people she was dating Robin? Alya and Adrien salt

I changed up some key details, and it’s not so much a salt fic as it is a slightly salty fic. I also based Dick off of Young Justice!Robin from season one since I was rewatching that show when I started writing. I imagine this taking place in an AU where Guardian!Marinette and Bee!Chloe are part of the Team, but use different Miraculi when they fight with them in order to maintain the whole ‘covert ops team’ thing. Marinette uses the cat and Chloe combines the ladybug with the dragon. If you’re asking where Adrien is, I truly have no clue, but I quite like this AU so I might expand on that later. Happy Maribat March, and enjoy! Tagging @mochegato because your comments always push me to write, and I want to say thank you. 

Word Count: 3.7k slightly underedited words

Ever since Marinette walked out of the first year assembly that marked the start of her time in Lycée, she’d been dreaming about her class senior trip. After términale was officially over and she’d sat all her exams, Marinette, along with Mme. Bustier’s class, would be flying to New York City for an entire week. At the time, Marinette couldn’t wait to go shopping with Alya and the girls, to watch Kim and Alix race across the Brooklyn Bridge and maybe even to hold hands with Adrien as they explored Times Square. When Lila joined their class and Marinette’s friendships all shattered around her, she began dreaming of a different week, one she would mainly spend on a bench in Central Park, lost in her sketchbook. Then things changed again, and Marinette became much more acquainted with the US than she ever expected to be at seventeen, mainly due to her… extracurricular activities. As she got off the plane, she hoped she could spend her days keeping her head down, giggling quietly with Chloe as they wandered behind the rest of their class (who were all too preoccupied with Lila’s tall tales to pay any attention to them). If she were lucky (which, regardless of her powers, she new she rarely was), maybe Bast and Lightning Bug would even be able to sneak away for a rooftop run one night, perhaps along with some of their American… acquaintances. 

But, as usual, things didn’t go in Marinette’s favor at all. Rather, Chloe came down with a terrible stomach flu the first night of the trip, and couldn’t join the class on their trip to Brooklyn Bridge. Instead of joking around with her best friend, Marinette was forced to dawdle behind her classmates as they posed for pictures together and clamored to hear of Lila’s latest adventures. Today, she appeared to be recounting the forbidden friendship-turned-love affair between her and Robin, one of the world’s most well-known heroes.

“We met when I was fourteen, before we moved to Paris. My mom was stationed in Gotham.” Yeah, it’s not like all US embassies are in Washington DC, Marinette thought. “He landed on my balcony and it was love at first sight.” You mean back when he was dating Zatanna? Right… “Of course he told me his identity straight away, and taught me how to fight”  Marinette actually let out a scoff at that one— Like Bruce would ever let that slide. “But I’m supposed to keep it a secret. I only told you guys all this because I trust you so much!”

As if on cue, her cronies began to fawn over her the minute she stopped talking, Alya taking it upon herself to scream particularly loudly. Marinette regretted leaving Tikki at home to tend to Chloe, because she really needed a moral compass right now. Instead, all she had was Trixx snarling in her backpack, almost begging Mari to call Lila out. But Marinette Dupain Cheng would not succumb to the whims of a tiny mischievous goddess today, thank you very much. Not when her day had already gone so horribly and pushing Lila would do nothing but worsen it. Not when she had a rooftop date planned for the evening that she would not, under any circumstances, risk compromising. “Staying out of things won’t make anything better,” she muttered to Trixx, “But it might stop them from getting wo—“

Marinette hadn’t finished her sentence when she felt a familiar shiver run the length of her spine. “oh mon dieu…”

Looking up, she watched Killer Frost land on the archway on the far side of the bridge. The woman was staring off into the distance, too preoccupied with what she saw to pay mind to the tourists. Usually, Ladybug would take that as a sign of greater trouble, but Marinette saw it as an opportunity to get civilians to safety. She immediately turned to the nearest person, pulling them aside to explain the issue before instructing him to get as many people off the bridge and to safety as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. As he walked off, she moved to the next person, speaking quietly and moving slowly. The last thing anyone needed was for Frosty to be alerted to her actio— “AHHH! IT’S KILLER FROST!”

Of fucking course Alya had to notice. You’d think after a lifetime of being chased by Akuma, the girl would know not to draw the big bad’s attention. But common sense was not her strong suit, and now Bustier’s class was standing on an otherwise deserted, easily collapsible, bridge, Killer Frost smirking down at them.

“What are you all waiting for?” Mari yelled at her classmates. A couple of them swung around to look at her, but most of them continued to stare. Summoning the authoritative tone she usually preserved for her masked outings, she tried again. “Run!”

That seemed to do the trick. One by one, her classmates came out of their stupor and began following her across the bridge, Mme Bustier close behind. Marinette heard the crackling of ice forming and a soft swish of something sliding across it, but continued to lead her classmates in the other direction. The group was almost halfway back to land, approaching the second archway, when Marinette stopped in her tracks, feeling the ground shake beneath her. Looking up, she saw Mr. Freeze at the end of the bridge, boots clanking with every step towards them. She doesn’t have to look back to know Killer Frost has them trapped from behind.

Marinette looks around, her limited options racing through her mind. Jumping overboard would take too long and was too dangerous. Transforming, even with Trixx, would doubtless reveal her identity. She could alert the team, but Freeze was now staring her down as he levied his freeze ray at her, so she’d have to act fast.

Swinging her arm, Marinette let her bag fall to her side as she ducked. She ripped the zipper open and shoved her hand inside, smashing her thumb against the button as quickly as she could. As she did, she braced herself, certain that Freeze had already fired at her and waiting to be engulfed in ice. But the overwhelming rush of cold never came. Instead, Marinette felt a body land in front of her and heard the hushed gasps and cheers of her classmates. When she opened her eyes, they met Aqualad’s, suddenly stood in front of her and using his water bearers to block Freeze’s attacks.

The minute their eyes met, she felt a soft touch in her mind and memories flooded her senses. She saw Kaldur announce a lead on Killer Frost the ex-sidekicks would have to handle (lest the remainder of the Team get exposed in such a public fight), heard M’gann volunteer to come along as backup in the Bioship. She watched Wally split off to investigate a disturbance while Kaldur took to the river and Dick to the rooftops, hoping to corner the escapee before she started anything they couldn’t stop.

Mari! She heard Miss Martian cry the minute her telepathic bond was fully established, and knew that if she looked up she’d be able to make out the faint outline of the concealed Bioship fluttering above them. You okay?

Now that Kaldur was pushing Mr. Freeze back, she could take a second to regain her bearings. She found her class cowering in the middle of the bridge behind her, heads swiveling around in an attempt the keep track of the fight. Overhead, she found Robin had forced Killer Frost onto the archway again. He kept trying to knock her over with his Birdarangs, swinging from the bridge cables as he went, but she’d dodge them by jumping onto makeshift ice platforms. Whenever he stopped, she’d send flurries of snow at his head. So far, he’d been able to flip and jump out of her way, but Marinette wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last.

Hey! I heard that. Came his voice in her head.

Sorry baby bird. There’s only so many cables, you know?

Marinette could feel his glare on the mind link. Kaldur, she thought, what can I do to help?

Clear the civilians, he grunted, don’t do anything to expose yourself. She watched him block another attack before jumping into action.

“Hey, everyone,” she yelled, waving her hands above her head to gain the class’s attention. “The bridge archway collapse any minute. We need to take cover.” At her words, a majority of the students dispersed, crawling toward the sides of the bridge where they could easily jump into the river if need be. At least Akuma attacks made them sensible. Only Alya remained standing, her phone out as she frantically recorded the fight around her. Mari registered Kaldur mentally cursing at the reporter, then saw Freeze’s attention shift to her through his eyes. Reflexes kicking in, Marinette lunged at Alya, managing to throw them both behind a pillar. Half a second later, a ray of cryogenic liquid shot through the air where Alya had been standing, and Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief. Alya wasn’t as thrilled.

“Bitch! I was filming!” She screeched, frantically checking her phone. She was clutching Marinette’s wrist, nails digging into the other girl’s flesh. “You could have ruined my footage!” Marinette was about to bite back, but Dick’s sparking anger in the back of her head drew her back to the reality. 

“Just film from here,” she muttered. “So you’re not in danger. Besides,” she continued when she noticed Lila crouching a few feet away, “you need to be able to protect your bestie.” That seemed to placate Alya, and she released her grip on Marinette to scoot closer to her friend. Now free to get back on the field, the superhero turned her attention back to Robin, who was still evading Frost’s hits. That is, until Marinette noticed the villain’s aim shift, and she realized what was about to happen a split second before it did. She mentally called out to him, but it was too late: Robin was halfway across the bridge, aiming for a cable, when Killer Frost fired at the edge of the archway on which she stood, where the bridge cables connected. They froze through entirely, and Marinette could hear them reverberate for half a second before they all snapped. Robin, who’d been swinging across the bridge ready to snatch a cable, now came barreling towards the ground. 

As Marinette watched him fall, time seemed to slow down around her. Stretching her leg out, she slid across the half-frozen concrete, arms extended to catch him as he neared the ground. When he landed in her grip, she pulled him back under the archway, out of Frost’s range.

“Wow, I didn’t know such pretty birds fell from the sky!” Her voice, laced with humor, was enough to snap him out of his reverie. She knew Dick didn’t mind heights, but no one liked falling, and she didn’t want him getting to caught up in it. 

“what are you, my guardian angel?” He said wryly, but she didn’t miss the appreciative tone in his voice. 

Marinette scoffed. “Aren’t angels the ones that fall from heaven?” She flashed him a smile, and her toothy grin reminded him more of Bast’s snarl than of Marinette’s quick humor. He almost forgot they were in the middle of battle until Kaldur’s voice rang in their heads.

 I didn’t think I’d have to say this, but you can’t flirt with him in front of everyone! Marinette  rolled her eyes, but her attention flitted back to the fighting around her. Aqualad was pushing Freeze back, but was struggling now that Killer Frost, thinking Robin was down, had begun firing at him from above.

I just wish I could help.

Hold on, Dick thought back, eyes zeroing in on Alya’s camera. The reporter had trained it on the two, and he knew this interaction would be online. Maybe we can give the people a show…

She catches his train of thought easily, though she wont deny the mind link played a role. It’s no sooner she’s agreed than he’s swinging away, angling himself so the camera has a good view of their exchange.

“Thanks for the assist,” he grumbled at her, tone suddenly serious. “But you know I always land on my feet.”

“I thought only cats could do that,” she challenged, “and they eat little birds like you, remember?”

“you talk a big game. Can you fight to match?” He made sure to keep a playful lilt in his voice, if only for the onlookers, and saw Marinette tense convincingly at his words. 

“Of course I can. I just need the right weapon.” She held her hand out expectantly, and Robin, feigning shock, made a show of pulling his cape away, giving her access to his utility belt. Smirking at him, she grabbed the extendable bo staff, turning around to face the fight. “see if you can keep up, baby bird.” And just like that, she dashed away. Not bothering to hide the smile on his face, Robin followed.

As it happened, they’d made it just in time to join the fight. Aqualad, distracted by Killer Frost, had lost track of Freeze, who was now aiming his cold gun at the hero’s back. Robin’s Birdarang managed to knock the weapon out of his hand just in time. From there, the fight ended quickly.

“Hey birdie!” Marinette called, running towards him, “Make me fly.” In his head, she whispered maneuver seven, And he immediately got ready to lift her into the air.

As she launched herself towards Mr. Freeze, she pointed her staff straight down. As she landed, she rammed it straight through his helmet, pushing down until the glass cracked beneath her weight. Marinette pulled away, watching the villain pant for a moment before she realized he couldn’t simply freeze himself like he usually would in these situations. Robin was already on it, grabbing the freeze ray from where it landed and shooting it at the man’s head, saving his life and effectively putting him out of the fight.

Meanwhile, Aqualad had managed to take down Killer Frost, wrapping her in jets of water and sending a surge of electricity through them. The shock was enough to knock her unconscious, and he was in the process of dragging her towards the others. He made a show of looking Marinette over, appearing shocked at the bo staff in her hands.

“I see Robin made a friend,” he commented wryly. Marinette knew she would get a stern talking-to for pulling this stunt, but she figured her classmates were too dumb to make anything of it, and any incriminating evidence posted on the LadyBlog could easily be corrupted by WayneTech. 

“I like to help when I can,” she shot back, just as much sarcasm in her voice. “Though, I have to wonder, don’t these two usually have an accomplice?”

Before anyone could answer, a yellow blur shot past them, and Kid Flash appeared, holding a tied up Captain Cold for them to see. “Indeed they do. Caught this one trying to break into the Star Labs Facility in the City. The others were probably just a distraction.” 

Marinette’s classmates had started to trickle out of hiding once the fight ended. With the arrival of the new hero, they began to cheer, circling the group. Alya pushed past them all, shoving her camera in front of her. Lila, looking more nervous than usual, followed closely behind her. 

“oh mon dieu!” Alya screeched. “You’re all amazing fighters. You did such a good job, even with Marinette in the way.” As she finished speaking, she gave her old friend a disgusted look, and Marinette had to wonder if she truly believed what she was saying or if she was just playing it up for attention. “I’m sorry about her, she doesn’t know how to step out of the limelight.”

“It’s alright,” Robin said, tone harsh.

Calm down, Marinette thought, It’s not worth it. 

He made sure the camera caught his next words. “Marinette actually helped us a lot.” He swung an arm over her shoulder, smirk flashing across his face for all to see. “Besides, it’s not every day you get to fight alongside a gorgeous girl.”

Said ‘gorgeous girl’ blushed a deep shade of red in spite of herself, biting back the urge to kiss him then and there. 

Alya, on the other hand, did not seem to know when to stop. “What? How can you say that about her? Especially in front of your girlfriend!” With that declaration, the class began muttering amongst themselves. Lila tried ducking behind Alya, but the attention was already on her. 

“What are you doing?” Lila hissed. “I told you that was a secret!”

Alya’s eyes narrowed, and she fixed Robin with a determined stare. “Just because he—“ she spat out the word “— doesn’t want people to know about your relationship doesn’t mean he can flirt with other girls in front of you. Or at all, actually. Come on girl, don’t let him treat you like that!”

Robin’s face looked more and more shocked the more she spoke, but before he could respond a peel of laughter broke the air. Kid Flash was doubled over beside him, looking at Alya like she was a comedian. 

“H-her?” He pointed at Lila, still shaking from his laughing fit. “His girlfriend? No way!” Lila stood quietly, eyes downcast, though she had the gall to look insulted at that remark. “No offence, kid, but I’ve seen Robin’s girlfriends, and you’re not really his type. He prefers black-haired, blue-eyed girls, you know? Preferably those who can kick his ass and have some magic powers.” He turned to Marinette, a devious smile on his face.

If you say anything I don’t appreciate, she whispered across the mind link, I will kill you. And I won’t even bother to make it look like an accident.

His eyes widened at her thoughts, but in true Wally West fashion he disregarded all warning and pushed forward. “Kind of like you. You really helped take down Freeze over there?” She nodded harshly, and his grin only widened. “Figures he’s all over you. Robin’s like that with powerful women. If you ever want his number, let me know.” Hearing Wally’s laughter echoing across the mind link did not, surprisingly enough, weaken her resolve to commit murder. 

Perhaps sensing her bubbling anger, Kaldur took the opportunity to step in. “Now that we’ve established that Robin is indeed single, it’s time for us to leave.” His voice, commanding as it always was in battle, captured everyone’s attention. Even the class, though utterly confused at the heroes’ declarations, remained quiet. “The police will arrive soon to take your statements. If anyone is hurt, they’ll be able to direct you to medical help. We apologize for this disturbance, and hope the rest of your trip is less eventful. With that, the superheroes all hefted an ice villain across their shoulders and made to leave. Marinette, realizing she still clutched the bo staff, held it out to Robin. 

“nah, keep it,” he told her, “consider it a thank you.” With a final wink, he disappeared after his teammates. 

Uh, bye Mari, M’gann’s voice echoed in her head. And, good luck with this mess. I can sense a lot of anger here. Call me if you need anything okay?

Thanks, Mari thought back, just before the alien’s touch slipped away and she heard the faint woosh of the bioship flying out of range. When she focused back on the class she found them dead silent, staring at Lila. Marinette noted duly that Alya was still filming

“What?” Lila yelled, trying to keep the panic from her voice. “He had to do that. What would we do if my identity got out, huh?”

Marinette could, and likely should, let these lies slide like she usually would. She should try not to let it get to her, and focus on the evening ahead with her American (and extraterrestrial) friends. But the rush of battle was still flowing through her, and Trixx was very strongly urging her to react, and, really, Marinette Dupain-Cheng did not have half the self control she claimed to possess. So of course, she just had to respond: “Hide your identity from who? The class full of people who obviously already knew about it, given that one of them brought it up first, or his superhero friends who he would have definitely told already, especially if you’ve been dating him in and out of the mask for four years now? Sounds a little odd to me, and I’m still confused about why he would need to flirt with another girl just to hide your relationship. Though I’m sure you have an incredibly logical explanation for all of this, right Lila? Hey, maybe Alya can post it on her blog and people can debate on just how much bullshit you’re spewing” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and as she finished speaking she quickly turned on her heel, swinging her newly-acquired bo staff over her shoulder and walking off the bridge toward the approaching convoy of NYPD cars. 

Behind her, she could hear her classmates’ angry voices beginning to rise, drowning out Lila’s sputtering excuses. Marinette was no fool, of course— she knew most of them would be back in the liar’s web by tonight. But that didn’t make calling her out any less fun, and now that her days with this class were extremely limited, she figured these small pleasures were worth the backlash. Besides, maybe the encounter would teach Lila to keep her mouth shut for the next few days—and if Marinette was going to think of a way to catch one of the fastest men alive by tonight, she needed the quiet.

Please let me know what you think! this is my first full piece I’m publishing for this fandom and I would love some feedback. I’m trying to write and post Maribat March prompts every weekend, so look out for that as well. PS. If you have a link to the discord or the list of prompts, I would greatly appreciate either. Thanks for reading!

[thephantomofthe-internet]

A Fool for Love| Steve Harrington x Reader

MASTERLIST

Words: 7,354 OOF

Warnings: swearing, Shakespearean English, general fluff

Author’s Note: So I got inspired by @jxnehxpper‘s headcanon on Steve being a secret theatre lover and set to giving us what we deserve-Steve being a little theatre kid. And then I told her about it. And then I reread it. And now I’m doubtful of what this even is and how long it is. Good luck I guess

Tag List: @marvelslut16 @shinydixon @jxnehxpper 

The laces were too tight. You couldn’t breathe. You were going to faint once you got up there. And your sleeves were too tight. You were already sweating through the long sleeves. Damn your overconfidence and crappy old patterns. And damn the seventies for making their bodices too tight and tan suede lacing so pretty over rouge coloured linen. And your shoes were too loose; they were going to fall off the second you took a step. Stupid Tammy Thompson and her stupid wide feet. You weren’t even supposed to be here.

Mrs. Blackburn loved to plan out a big spring show without thinking about how many students would be there on auditions. She chose these bombastic plays without thinking about who was actually going to be there. The drama club was made up of about ten members, who’d all be there on audition day, and that was usually it. And Mrs. Blackburn would throw a fit about it to you, her trusted right hand man with a plan. Then she’d spend her classes kissing ass to get students to come out for promised roles after stroking their egos enough to get them to bother with extracurricular theatre. Most kids took the class for an easy A, a quick passing grade that would boost their GPAs without making them want to claw their eyes out. Only a certain type of student would go through with this sort of embarrassment.

So when Mrs. Blackburn announced the spring show to be an abridged version of Twelfth Night, a choice you thought was decent enough. Cutting down the b-plot with Malvolio and the servants made the story run smoother and cut a metric crap ton of roles. Unfortunately, Mrs. Blackburn didn’t have the heart to cut the fool, which meant that she needed another guy to be in the show. And your little crew of nerds only had two boys. If only cross dressing was something she deigned to allow, alas Mrs. Blackburn believed firmly in women playing women and men playing men, which made it even harder to cast anything. It was ironic, knowing the actual plot of the play she’d chosen. Still, now she had a little challenge to hum and ha over for a month before casting the thing.

It was during this casting point that you heard quite possibly the worst idea you’d ever heard.

You often ate lunch in Mrs. Blackburn’s classroom. The entire drama club did. It was a nice, quiet place where no screaming teens or bullies could attack a boy for trotting around in a kilt from costume cupboard and kick a girl for her looks if they didn’t conform to what was considered pretty by the rest of the school. A hodgepodge of personalities grew in there like bacteria. Usually, there shining saviour would eat in the teacher’s lounge with the rest of the staff, but as shows got closer, she’d make sporadic appearances.

“Y/N!” the door slammed open, Mrs. Blackburn standing in the doorway, her wild red curls bouncing wildly around her tiny face, her thin pointed glasses slipping off her nose. “I’ve done it!”

“You’ve done what?” you looked up from your sack lunch. Mrs. Blackburn looked a mess. Her olive green paisley skirt was stained with coffee and her raggedy cream blouse was flashing her bra to the world. She looked as if she’d gotten dressed in her donation bag. You had a sort of love-hate relationship with the woman. She was like a second mother to you, which meant that you loved her unconditionally but hated her in the moment.

“I’ve found us a diamond in the rough,” she marched over to the desk. As always, you’d taken over the teacher’s desk. You were the only person she trusted to sit there with her unmarked tests and unopened lipsticks gifted to her by Lisa Gardner’s Avon selling mother. Her hands slapped the fake wood “I’ve found our Duke Orsino.”

You watched from behind her as both Gordon Fisher and Dale Michaels deflated behind you. The only boys in the club would kill for a leading role. They shouldn’t have to kill, there were only two of them; there shouldn’t be a fight at all. But Mrs. Blackburn liked to do a bit of stunt casting within the Hawkins High School student body.

“No one has been chosen yet!” you turned you attention directly to them. Of course, that was a blatant lie. Both you and Mrs. Blackburn already had pretty much the entire show cast before auditions had even been announced. Dale would play the jester, who Mrs. Blackburn had flagrantly rewritten as a sort of narrator, believing herself capable of rewriting Shakespeare, and Gordon would play Sebastian. He was fundamentally much more attractive than Dale, and much less mockable. Dale was the kid hiding in the classroom in a kilt from Tommy H, which he was wearing because he ripped his pants and didn’t want to walk around with his stained tighty whities.

You turned your attention back to Mrs. Blackburn, a small excited smile spreading across your face. “Who is it?” you asked.

“Oh he’s simply marvellous! He’s in our afternoon class, a Mr. Harrington!” Mrs. Blackburn had a dreamy grin spread across her face, her hands linked together in front of her chest.

Your smile dropped “Steve? Really?” This had to be a joke. Steve was in your drama class so to speak, he was never there. He skipped every class and only showed up for tests and to do graded performances. And his performances were shit. He was never off script and even with the script in front of his face he couldn’t keep the lines straight. He was useless!

“Oh yes yes! We had a very interesting conversation just a few moments ago and he’s very intrigued by our production and I think that he’ll make an interesting, dynamic choice for the role!” Mrs. Blackburn mused, her arms floating around as she spoke as if she was performing Swan Lake instead of properly explaining her decision.

“So, he’s coming into audition?” you asked slowly, leaning on your elbows. Mrs. Blackburn nodded. That was a surprise. The great king of Hawkins high bothering to join the unwashed, artistic masses? That was a shock. You expected him to just demand the role to be his. Not that you thought he’d read the play. You doubted he’d even skimmed the Cliff’s Notes.

“Yes, I’ve already signed him up. By the looks of it, if all the auditions go well we’ll have a full cast without call backs.” She turned her attention to the cowering masses behind her, all staring up in awe. Well, all except Robin Buckley. She wasn’t really a part of the collective though; she was just there for Tammy Thompson.

“Alright, then I can’t wait to see what he does…” you replied with a small smirk. Everyone else in the room was thinking the same thing: Steve Harrington was going to choke. The second Mrs. Blackburn left the room, everyone began their muttering and musing. The only person who seemed to sympathize with the kid was Tammy, who kept whining about poor, poor Steve and how he was going to make a fool of himself. Everyone had seen Steve’s failings with performance, most of the room either spent their free period in your drama class or had taken drama with him in freshman year. His misgivings were known throughout the little crew, even Robin seemed to understand that the kid just wasn’t talented.

And when auditions rolled around, you except the worst. As always, you were playing stage manager slash costumer for the production, your chosen role, and you sat at the back of the classroom with a clipboard and red pen in hand. You had the audition list copied on a few sheets of paper with the role presumed to fit them best. You’d seen most of the room audition a million times before. Both you and Mrs. Blackburn had a clear idea of what was going to happen. And, for the most part, it all fell into place. Tammy, despite her pleas to be Viola, was much more suited to the prissy and rich Olivia; Dale actually wanted to be the fool, which made your life easier, now you wouldn’t have to crush him dreams; Heather Holloway would happily play Viola, which you were more than happy to give her; and sweet little Nicole Chandler would play the nursemaid Maria.

Then, there was Steve Harrington and Gordon Fisher. Gordon had come in and bashed all of your notions of him being fabulously brash and boisterous Sebastian by auditioning instead for the powerful and yet underwhelming awkward Duke Orsino. And he was great! He was better than great!

And then there was Steve. He was terrible. Just plain awful. He didn’t look up once from the crumpled photocopied pages he held in his fist and he didn’t seem to know what he was saying. No, scratch that he had no idea what he was saying. He wasn’t so much playing a character but instead just trying to pronounce the words on the page and string them together in complete sentences. It was painful. But, to Mrs. Blackburn, it was perfect. She clapped when he finished, smiling far too wide as she egged him on. She kicked you under the table to follow suit and you added in a few slow claps. With a hefty dose of praise hefted on him like whipped cream, she sent Steve off and turned her attention to you.

“He’s perfect,” she said. You almost expected her to let out a dreamy sigh, like a love struck teenager instead of a married middle aged woman. She just looked so happy about the whole thing. You took a bit of secret joy in popping her bubble.

“Gordon was much better for the part.” You slipped your pen behind your ear and crossed your arms over your chest. Mrs. Blackburn’s thin mouth dropped open into a tiny ‘o’, only really defined by her cherry red lipstick.

“What?” she cried before composing herself “No, no Gordon was fine, he’ll make a fabulous Sebastian, but Steve is what I want for the Duke.”

“Are you sure I mean-” You couldn’t help but try to argue the point. You knew in your heart that the little shows you helped put on weren’t award worthy by any means but you still took great care in making them as good as possible, if only as a self-serving move to make them watchable from the booth.

Mrs. Blackburn shook her head, her tiny mouth pulling into a stern frown. “The decision is made. You cannot change my mind, Y/N.” she said flippantly, turning away from her to collect her papers. “We’ll have the list up by Monday, yes?”

You swallowed and nodded once. Mrs. Blackburn swept out of the room, her silver bracelets clattering together as she left. Once the door shut, you let out a heavy sigh and put away your clipboard. You’d type up the temporary list and deal with your temperamental director. First, you had to find Steve.

You found him hunched over at his locker. If you didn’t know him better, you’d say that he was ashamed. But he was too much of a cocky shit to ever feel ashamed of his own showboating. And what you just saw was showboating. There was no other way to explain it. He didn’t care about the show, or the play, he only cared about himself and showing off.

You tapped him hard on the shoulder. Steve turned his head. He wasn’t certain of your name but he recognized you from only a few minutes prior. He wanted to disappear. He’d just made a complete fool of himself and now had to atone to his butchering of words he didn’t quite get.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you’re just signing onto this thing to fuck around and make fun of people, I suggest you back the fuck down. Fisher and Michaels might stand down to your asshole buddies but I won’t.” you sneered, planting your hands on your hips and straightening your back to reach your fullest height. You had never been in a fight before, at least not one that wasn’t staged and within a classroom setting, but you’d stand up for those kids. Anyone who volunteered themselves for theatrical productions were doing something vulnerable, and vulnerability wasn’t something that could be taught or captured in a bottle, it was something given that should be protected. And you vowed to protect them from someone with ill will, if only to make your show better.

“Look,” Steve swallowed hard, looking away from you. Your gaze was searing into him and he was already embarrassed as is. He didn’t think he could blush any harder. “I’m not bullshitting. Mrs. Blackburn offered and I said yes, that’s all. No buddy’s gonna find out about this.”

You watched him squirm like a worm on a hook. He looked genuine. His eyes spoke more volumes than his words. You nodded, letting out a sharp breath through your nose. “Alright…” you turned on your heel and walked off without a goodbye to the thoroughly embarrassed boy.

Once the work started, it was a wash of a production. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Tammy was over the moon that Steve Harrington was joining them to play pretend and thrilled to explain to him that his character was in love with hers. He seemed horrified by the idea but dutifully played along. Gordon was beyond pissed, having to watch Steve stumble through lines and direction given by Mrs. Blackburn while he waited for his shot to do any acting at all. Robin was pissed too. Mrs. Blackburn had roped her into the production to do a few flute solos in pivotal scenes, which meant her having to watch the scenes she’d be playing in and you’d have to make her a little costume to wear. You’d been given your budget and some ancient patterns from Mrs. Blackburn’s collection, a 1970s renaissance faire dress pattern that didn’t fit in at all with the period. You bit back complaints about how little money you had to make anything nice.

You silently thanked god for Heather Holloway and her rich parents. They would pay to have her costumes done separately from your handiwork and all you’d have to do was make some decent things for the rest of the cast. You’d be sewing until your fingers bled. You were just thankful that you had made patterns for men’s pants in the same style of the dresses. You wouldn’t have to draft different sizes off a thin parchment pattern for them. Nicole, Tammy, and Heather were all around the same size so you’d only need to two different sizes of pattern. The project would be fairly simple.

Which meant that Mrs. Blackburn had to throw a wrench in everything.

She asked you to speak with her after your afternoon class one month into rehearsals. You stood awkwardly in front of her desk, your trapper keeper clutched tight to your chest, a few fingers bandaged from pricks and pokes from rouge pins and needles. You’d spent the night before alternating between putting blocking notes into your script and hemming the skirt of Tammy Thompson’s pale yellow dress. You’d bought a very pretty pale yellow brocade fabric with thin gold laurel patterns over the material and it was heavier than expected but it looked rightfully rich enough for a duchess to wear.

“Now, I might have overestimated Mr. Harrington’s acting abilities,” she said quietly, looking between you and the door. Steve was the first out of the room when the bell rang, he wasn’t lurking by the door waiting to hear you shit talk him. “He’s not performing well.”

“Well yes, I tried to tell you that when we auditioned him.” You replied, trying to hold back an eye roll.

“There’s no need to be bitter, he’s salvageable.” Mrs. Blackburn turned her attention to erasing the board. She had a freshman year drama class after this and the smelly youths would burst through the door at any moment. “What we’ll do is simply give him some extra help, less time working with the others and have him focus on really working on his lines. He’s not off book anyway.”

You nodded “So, what do you need me to do here?” Mrs. Blackburn reached into her desk and pulled out her pads of excused late slips, pulling out a pen and scribbling out your student information.

“Well, I can’t very well stop blocking the performance and we need to start heading over to the theatre soon. So you’ll handle helping Mr. Harrington from here on out.” She said nonchalantly. Her hoard her stinky children burst into the room, taking over the class with sound and fury, signifying nothing but an assault on your eardrums.

“So, and just for clarification here, you want me to make all the costume, stage manage the production, and teach Steve his lines?” you asked, taking the green slip she dangled out in front of you.

“Well yes of course that’s what you signed on to do and we always come through on what we choose to do.” Mrs. Blackburn turned her attention to her classroom, clapping twice to grab their attention. You knew that this was your cue to leave and you slinked away with your tail betwixt your legs, put back in your place by the older woman. You could’ve screamed. Teaching lines was not what you signed up for. Working with Steve was not what you signed up for. You signed on for making costumes and stage managing. Steve was not a part of the equation. He wasn’t even associated with the equation. He was a whole separate equation that you weren’t supposed to be tasked with solving.

And yet when Mrs. Blackburn announced that the rest of the cast would be heading to the theatre and you’d be staying behind with Steve to run lines, you didn’t complain. Steve did, he wanted to see the theatre, but you stayed silent, waving them goodbye as they left the cramped classroom. You and Steve stared at each other for a moment, silent and awkward, before you reached down and picked up the paper grocery bag you’d brought along with you and pulled out the pretty rouge pink linen you’d bought to make Nicole’s dress. You lay it flat on the desks and unfolded your newspaper patterns.

“Alright, sit.” You pointed to the desk in front of you and opened your patterning kit, pulling out your white tailor’s chalk and sewing scissors. Steve obeyed, tucking himself into the desk. You looked up with a forced smile “Alright, this is how we’re doing to do this. You are going to perform the lines without your script. When you need a line, say line and I’ll give it to you. Repeat it and then start again from the top. We’ll do that until you can say the whole thing without stuttering or calling line. Got it?”

Steve swallowed hard “Got it.”

“Alright, we’ll start from the first scene.” You pulled out your copy of the abridged play. Steve looked at you for a moment, confused and you summoned him to begin.

He took a heaving breath and you began pinning your pattern pieces to the material. “If music be the food of love, play on, give me…” Steve began, already stuttering. He went silent before shamefully asking “Line?”

You looked up with a raised eyebrow. You were hoping for at least a few lines to be known before he needed help. Mrs. Blackburn underestimated how little he knew. “Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting the appetite may sicken, and so die…that strain again!” you read out, monotone before turning your attention to Steve “Start again.”

He spouted out the dialogue, just a nervous as before and stuttering all the while. You managed to get through pinning the skirt piece down before he called line again. He only got through a line of dialogue past your last prompting. Steve looked utterly defeated and small in his seat. “I can’t think like this…” he muttered.

“The stand up. Or pace. Whatever you need to do. Just get through the speech here,” you said with a sigh “Do you need the line?” Steve nodded sadly and you read out the next line and Steve started again.

“If music be the food of love; play on, give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken and so die…that strain again! It had a dying fall: o’ it came o’er my ear like the sweet south that breathes upon a bank of violets; stealing odour…enough, no more!” he took a heaving breath. He was halfway across the room now and staring at the wall. You had turned your attention to him and were watching almost in awe. He knew the lines. He knew the whole speech. When he finished, he looked to you as if for the next line. You didn’t give it, instead you stepped out from the desk.

“You know the lines…” you breathed. It wasn’t a good performance, but he was off book. He was putting in work. You were impressed. Surprised, but impressed.

“When I’m walking around the room I do…” Steve chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with a small smile.

“But you have no idea what you’re saying…” you breathed, watching as Steve deflated, giving a small nod.

“Why can’t he just write what he means, I get it’s supposed to be like poetry or whatever, but it makes no sense.” He pushed himself up onto the desk, crossing his legs under him.

“It helps to think about the character as a whole. What do you know about the duke?” you asked, taking a step back to approach the scene with script in hand.

“I mean…he’s a duke, which is an important person with a lot of people who work under him, and he’s in love with Olivia, who’s a rich duchess,” he counted them off with his fingers, chewing on his lower lip as he thought.

“Exactly!” you stopped him mid-sentence, pointing excitedly “He’s in love with Olivia and Olivia doesn’t love him back, right?”

“Right?” he had a right to be confused; Mrs. Blackburn had given Tammy the note to stop playing Olivia so moony eyed over Orsino for weeks now. She hadn’t stopped, despite swearing up and down that she wasn’t trying.

“She doesn’t, and so when he’s talking about love and music, do you think he’s happy to hear the music or not?” you asked.

“I mean…I guess yes and no?” you raised an eyebrow at him. That wasn’t the exact answer you expected. He continued “Cause he’s love sick, and being love sick is fun and terrible at the same time. He talks about being sick in the speech.”

You nodded “Yes! And when he says that he wants to surfeit, that means to like overdose. He wants to die from all the love. He’s overwhelmed by it all.” Steve’s smile grew. For the first time, he felt like he was getting it now. When you explained it, the scene made sense.

You reached for your scissors and picked up the material, taking a deep breath before making the first cut in the fabric. “Alright, now I want you to take all that stuff I told you and try to put it on the words.” You said, gesturing with your finger for him to start again.

And he did. He did the scene over and over again, pacing the room while trying to feel different things. It was easy to be overwhelmed-he was overwhelmed. Everything he was doing overwhelmed him. It didn’t help that you were watching him. He didn’t like being watched. And you kept smiling at some parts and frowning at others. He wanted you to smile all the way through it. That meant that it was good, that he was doing good. And he liked your smile. This was the first time he’d seen it directed at him.

“Alright,” you stopped him mid sentence, holding out a flat palm out “Enough pacing. The blocking has you seat in like this big chair.” You stepped out from behind the desks and pulled out a chair, placing it in the centre of the room. “Sit down, we’re going to put it altogether.”

Steve gingerly sat in the chair, positioning himself the way Mrs. Blackburn had instructed with his legs splayed wide and his right elbow propped on his knee, holding his head up. With a heavy breath he started again “If music be the food of love, play on…fuck!” you looked up from your work curiously “I forgot the line already! I keep thinking about the words and the meaning and the emotions and the meter-I can’t do it all.”

You nodded, pulling the pins out of the pattern and marking the pieces numerically. “Tap your foot to the beat of the words, one less thing to think about.” You said, capping the pin box. “Do it one more time and then we’re done. They’re finishing up at the theatre now, we have to vacate ASAP.”

Steve tried your trick. It worked. He was shocked. You knew so much about this stuff. He didn’t know anything about any of this. He felt like a doofus. But you helped him through. He thought it was a onetime thing, but every rehearsal you’d take him aside and work on the words. Mrs. Blackburn had cut the thing down to about two acts, still longer than most parents wanted to sit through, but better than five acts and two intermissions. He didn’t know how he was going to do this at all. Still, he felt safe with you watching. He could perform to you instead of the audience.

For your part, you liked working with Steve. You didn’t think that you would, but he was pretty self sufficient with the piece after you gave him your Cliff’s Notes version of the text to help him understand the scenes he had to do and the context of the play as a whole. And he was funny. You didn’t know that he was funny. And he hated Tammy. Anyone who hated Tammy was a friend of yours. She was brutally annoying in rehearsals and at this point was refusing to kiss Gordon. And poor Gordon was more than over having Steve there, he swore that the guy was doing something to distract Tammy. Of course he was, he was existing in her world for the first time, but you were quick to defend him, because he was trying. It wasn’t his fault that Tammy couldn’t keep it in her pants or that Heather was more focused on her costumes than her performance. Still, nobody understood why he was there.

Sat with Steve at the back of the Hawkins Community Playhouse, you decided to ask him. “Hey,” you asked quietly. Gordon and Tammy were doing their little love scene on the stage below and Mrs. Blackburn would kill you if she could hear you talking. “Can I ask you something?” Steve nodded, looking up from his script.

“Why are you doing this show?” Steve frowned and you backtracked quickly “I mean, this isn’t your bag I just was curious…”

“Honestly?” Steve asked. You gave a half nod, trying not to appear too curious. “Mrs. Blackburn promised me that if I did this, she’d pass me for the year and that I can skip out on the final.” Your eyes blew wide. You were pissed. Not because he was only doing the show for a decent grade, but because you still had to prepare a monologue performance to perform for your final on top of all this work.

“That bitch…” you murmured “I wanna skip out on the final!”

Steve laughed “Ask! She was only gonna pass me, I haggled for the final.”

“She’d never. She wants to work me to death, I swear.” You chuckled darkly. You flipped up the tan suede Bodice you built, the lace dangling loosely from the eyelets. It looked good. It would look better on Nicole, for now it would have to look good on the floor.

Steve was called up to the stage and you returned to Mrs. Blackburn’s side, watching the ending go down, as Viola’s true nature is revealed and Sebastian is reunited with his sister. It was a messy scene, with the Malvolio plotline cut there wasn’t a scheme to reveal or a villain to unmask, so the scene became instead a bit of a wedding. You still wished you’d done A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream, you would’ve actually auditioned for that show. Still, Twelfth Night was turning into a half decent show. You hadn’t expected Steve to bring anything, but he played the duke like a sort of well meaning dunce, a loveable yet hopeless fool. He just seemed to have fun, especially when Nicole and Dale were acting silly behind him. He just seemed to have fun with them, unlike Tammy and Heather who had no interest in playing and seemed to be fighting for who could look the most bored. It had been a long day, it was nearly eight o’clock at night and Mrs. Blackburn had sent her husband to go pick up pizza for the cast an hour ago. Everyone was exhausted, but you were supposed to do a full fitting for the cast after they were done.

Thankfully, Mrs. Blackburn ended the torture. “Alright,” she clapped once, calling an end to the scene “Let’s call it quits there. Y/N has brought all the costumes for the show with her today, let’s have a try on and then we’ll take our pizza to go. Sound good?” the whole room let out an exhausted half cheer and you picked up the massive duffel bag you’d brought from home.

“I hope everyone remembered their shoes,” you said, pulling out the first hanger, holding the intense yellow brocade with the golden Bodice for Tammy to take. “Heather, your stuff is here, right?” Heather scoffed, taking the three off the stage and picking up her own bag. You handed Nicole her dress and passed out the brown faux burlap pants and white puffy shirts. You’d made separate vests for each character-Steve’s a rich navy blue, Dale’s a jaunty royal purple with a matching jester cap from the prop closet, and Gordon a dull olive green. Their colours would have to do to differentiate them to the audience. Everyone left to do their try on and when they returned you were transported to the ren faire.

You stepped off the stage, joining Mrs. Blackburn in the fifth row. You smiled; the brocade looked lovely under the lights, as did the silver buttons you’d put on Steve’s vest. It was a bit wide. “Alright, Tammy you’re good to change, Steve stay put.” You jumped back onto the stage, stepping behind him. Up close, it was hard to look at him. He was too attractive. You were stunned that any man could look sexy in a stupid puffy shirt, but there Steve was, ruining your work relationship with him.

“Stay still, I’m putting pins in your vest, I don’t want to poke you.” You whispered, pulling a couple pins from your cushion. You felt Steve suck in a deep breath as your fingers grazed his lower back, tingles running up his spine. You pulled the material in a bit, pinning it flat. You noted that you’d have to add a couple darts to each side to make it fit better. It only took a few moments, but when you came back around to look over Steve he looked as if he might faint. “Steve,” he looked to you with blown out eyes “Breathe.” He nodded twice and you stepped off the stage. It was only a week until performances. He must have been scared shitless.

Steve was scared shitless. Of you. He didn’t know how to act when you were watching him. Well, he knew how to act, you’d trained him to play Orsino, but he didn’t know how Steve fit into your relationship. All he knew was that when he had to kiss Heather at the end of the show, he only had you on his mind. He couldn’t even look at you when it was over, he felt like he’d cheated on you. Which was insane, but the feeling stuck in his gut.

When the day of performances came around, Steve was shaken. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He hadn’t told any of his friends about what he was doing and yet word had gone around the school. All of his friends were coming opening night, he swore with pitchforks and rotten fruit to throw. When he got the theatre at four o’clock that afternoon, however, the whole cast was in a tizzy.

Heather was an hour late. And, according to Nicole, she wasn’t coming. “Her father’s hosting a benefit at the Carmel Country Club tonight, there’s no way that she’s showing.” She moaned. Mrs. Blackburn was already in the phone book, looking up the number of the club. She left to make a call, promising that Heather would never do such a thing.

Tammy was crying off her makeup in the corner, with Robin consoling her while trying to not get blackened tears on her white shirt. “She’s going to ruin my show! She’s ruining it!” she sobbed.

You were stood in the corner, unsure where to place yourself. Luckily, Mrs. Blackburn returned quickly. “I’ve just spoken to Heather,” she announced. The room fell into a hush.

“And?” you asked, looking up from the hot rollers you were putting in Nicole’s hair.

“And she’s not coming. She told me about this and I said it was okay. I guess I forgot.” Mrs. Blackburn replied. You knew that was bullshit, but you held your tongue.

“What’re we going to do???” Tammy cried out. That sent the room into an uproar, everyone talking over one another. Steve stayed silent. In truth, he was a bit glad to be rid of Heather. Maybe they wouldn’t have to perform.

“Now, now as we know in the theatre the show must go on!” Mrs. Blackburn cried. “Y/N, as stage manager, has been learning the blocking and pacing for the show. She will go on as Viola and I will make a speech before we go on! It’s all we can do!”

Everyone turned to look at you. You turned your attention to Mrs. Blackburn, walking over to her and whispering in her ear. “If I do this, I don’t have to do the final. You grade on this.” She looked you over and then turned once. You turned to the cast and sighed softly, nodding “The show will go on.” You shrugged, heaving up your trapper keeper.

“She doesn’t look right. She doesn’t have a costume.” Tammy whined.

“I will go to the school and get what we have left. I’m sure we have a pair of trousers and a puffed shirt for her to wear.” Mrs. Blackburn grabbed her purse off the makeup counter “Girls, work your magic on her.”

You put the last roller in Nicole’s hair and she grabbed your arm, pulling her into the chair next to her. “Grab that green skirt from last year!” Nicole called after her teacher “You’re gonna wear this dress for the opening. I’ll wear the skirt and whatever else she brings back, now let’s make you Viola.”

You were poked and prodded and burned until you were as close to looking like Heather as you were going to get. Then, you were stuffed into Nicole’s dress. Thankfully, Mrs. Blackburn had found two leftover puffy white shirts and a bodice, and the decision was made that you’d wear the rouge dress and she’d wear the green skirt from last year. It was a nice enough gesture, as was Tammy being forced to give up her extra pair of character shoes, which she did begrudgingly at the behest of Robin.

And then, you were stood offstage. And you were terrified. You’d never done this before. In your four years of stage managing, no one had ever called out of a performance, you’d never had to take over a role last minute. Your mind kept focusing on the discomfort of the costume. Nicole had tied your bodice too tight. Tammy’s shoes were too big. The skirt was too long. You were too wrong for this. You wanted to run. And then, the lights came up on Steve. Your breath caught in your throat as he spoke the opening lines so well and Robin began her first flute solo. Steve was doing wonderfully. With his left foot tapping lightly on the wooden stage floor, he knew what he was saying, even with distraction surrounding him. Internally, he felt as close to someone else as he’d ever felt in his life. Steve didn’t like that you weren’t in the audience to watch him, but he couldn’t see anyone with the lights on anyway. The audience clapped as he finished his scene and left with Dale, the lights going out fully as Robin cleared her chair and music stand and Gordon carried off the throne. Steve reached out and squeeze your shoulder with a kind smile.

“You have this,” he said softly. You heaved out a breath and stepped on the stage. You went right to the centre and right up to the edge, sitting down so your legs dangled off. You had no idea how Heather did this. You were too close to the audience. As the lights came up, you looked down at the lines in front of you. Dale stepped onto the stage in a sailor’s cap. He really had to play everyone in this stupid show. He nodded to you with a smile.

“What…” you voice came out in a whisper. No one could hear you. You took a breath, closing your eyes before trying again. “What country, friends, is this?” you asked loudly.

Dale’s smile grew. The scene was actually happening. “This is Illyria, lady.” He said, doing his best to sound like an old man.

The first scene was bumpy. Dale wanted to show off a bit and make the audience laugh, even though the scene was an info dump, which meant that you could just read the lines back to him and follow the blocking. You were more comfortable moving than you were speaking. But it got easier. Once you were dressed as Ceserio and working with Steve, things went smoother. You knew those scenes very well, the lines were almost memorized on your part from playing scene partner to him. Steve was fun to work with, he constantly made you smile.

It wasn’t hard for you to pretend to be in love with Steve. You felt like you were. Well, maybe not love. But like. Like a whole lot. And you were sure that he liked you to. Or maybe he was just that good of an actor.

The show went so fast. It was refreshing. Sat in the booth, it was a slog to get through, but onstage it went quick. You were nervous over the ending. You knew Heather’s last scene was a kiss with Steve. It wasn’t the passionate, intense kiss that Tammy and Gordon would do a scene before, but it was still a kiss. No matter how he felt about you, this was going to change your friendship forever.

You joined the cast last on stage, the who’s who of the plot being broken down, Steve was supposed to be mad when you came onstage, but he smiled like he’d seen what heaven looked like. You smiled up at Steve as the changed scene began, cutting the duel that leads the group into their explanations of the mix ups. Mrs. Blackwell hadn’t had the heart to cut a bit of Viola’s dialogue, so it lead the group into the explanations instead.

“After him I love, more than I love these eyes, more than my life, more by all the mores than e’er I shall love my wife.” You had no direction for what to do with the line. Heather had said it dramatically towards the audience. You turned your attention to Steve, caressing his face with your thumb. It was greedy, you were using the scene to get a bit of affection from the boy. You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help it. Steve seemed bewildered but happy, he fit the moment perfectly.

The scene continued as planned, with all the reveals shown to the characters and couples happily coupled off. Sebastian and Olivia were revealed to be married and that all was okay between Viola and Olivia once her gender was revealed.

Steve turned to you, smiling ear to ear “Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times thou never shouldst love woman like me.” He took your hands in his squeezing them tight.

“And all those sayings will I over-swear, and all those swearing keep me as true in soul as doth orbed continent the fire that severs day from night.” You replied, matching his giddy grin. The kiss was coming soon, he had one more line and then he’d plant one on you.

“Give me thy hand,” you both looked down at your still clasped together hands. The audience chuckled. Steve pressed on “And let me see thee in thy woman’s weeds.” You and Nicole rushed offstage and quickly changed you into the dress again. You were all butterflies and pins and needles, shaking in your loose heels. Nicole brushed out your skirt and smiled, escorting you back onstage.

The audience clapped politely on your return, you tried your best to smile although was hard to breath with Steve looking at you like that. He scooped you up in his arms and kissed you quickly before you had a moment to react. You swore that he had a line before this happened but you didn’t care. Your script was out of your hands anyway, he’d knocked it out of your hands when he lifted you off the ground. You swore you were flying.

And then you were on the ground. Steve cleared his throat. He was blushing madly. He remembered his line. He turned to Tammy, who was holding back a laugh before turning back to you.

“Cesario, come! For so you shall be, while you are a man; but, when in other habits you are seen, Orsino’s mistress and his fancy’s queen.” He announced, grabbing your hand and sweeping you off the stage, Gordon and Tammy in close pursuit. Dale and Nicole still had a scene, which Mrs. Blackburn had changed for them to share. You weren’t paying attention to them though.

“Nice work,” Steve breathed, squeezing your hand in his.

“You surprised the hell outta me,” you chuckled “Made me lose my script.”

“You look really pretty like this,” Steve said. You looked at him carefully. He was sweaty and shy, his eye barely met yours.

You smiled “Thank you, you look good in cheap period costumes.” You knocked your hip into his, making him stumble just a bit. He grabbed your hip, pulling them parallel to his.

“Yeah?” he asked, bring his left hand to grab your chin.

You smiled “Oh yeah, definitely,” you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you again as Tammy and Gordon ran to grab you for curtain call. You didn’t care. Looking into Steve’s eyes, you knew he wasn’t a good enough actor to fake the way he looked at you. And you swore the world went silent in that moment, nothing standing between you and the swirling stars and hearts in his eyes.

[sunset-bobby]

Title: You Mean the Holograms

Summary: Julie invites Carrie over to tell her the truth about her band, and maybe her dad, but what if she already knows

Word Count: 1886

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822940

If there was one thing Carrie Wilson was good at, it was acting as if she was not aware of things. People often assume because she is the daughter of Trevor Wilson and shallow, which she is sometimes and is working on it, that she is not in tune with what’s going on in other people’s lives, but she is. So, when Julie texted her to come over saying she ‘needed to tell her something’. Carrie had a pretty good idea of what she was getting herself into. After all her dad is Trevor Wilson, and well he’s a terrible liar no matter how hard he tries. So that is how she found herself at Julie’s studio on a Saturday afternoon sitting on a chair, with Julie pacing in front of her nervously.

“Okay, so I called you here to introduce you to my band,” Julie stated and Carrie nodded along.

“The holograms?” she asked her in a false tone that made Julie believe she was clueless.

“That’s the thing. They aren’t actually holograms,” she paused and Carrie looked at her in anticipation., “ They’re ghosts.” Carrie gave her a look that was a mix of disbelief and confusion, but before she could say anything Julie cut her off.

“Before you say anything, let me show you,” and she heads off to the piano. Now Carrie can’t actually see the ghost, but she is already aware of their existence, so she sends a small smirk to the air and hopes one of them is catching on and finds this as amusing as she is. However if what she already knows about them is true the one most likely to catch on, is freaking out. Julie plays a piano riff that Carrie is familiar with before a faint whooshing sound comes in and before stands the face of 3 teenage boys that she is secretly very familiar with. Julie stops playing and the boys as well. Something new Carrie was not ready for. Point ghost.

“The new abilities are hard to explain as of right now, but they can now be seen after we play as well,” Julie explains and Carrie nods along once more.

“Okay, so Care this is-,” but Carrie takes the opportunity to expose her own secrets now.

“Luke, Reggie, and Alex. Formally of the early 90s rock band Sunset Curve, currently of the up and coming band Julie and the Phantoms,” she says and her tone is dripping with that false innocence she uses to really push certain statements over the edge, and from the looks on both the boys and Julie’s face it seems she has. The blonde one, Alex, is the first to speak.

“H-how does she know that?” he looks around at his shocked friends before looking back at her, “how do you know tha?” She smiles, not fully she doesn’t want it to seem like she’s finding amusement in his obvious sense of panic, but just enough to where they know she’s planned this.

“Did you ask your dad about it?” Reggie, the bassist, asked recovering next, and Carrie decided to add some more to the drama.

“My dad? Why would he be involved in this?” Her smile has dropped giving the illusion that she is serious about her confusion. The boys and Julie blubber out multiple excuses to each other trying to come up with the same story, and she lets them for a while, before cracking. A laugh escapes her lips drawing their attention back to her.

“I’m joking, no my dad told me everything,” she says in between laughs, but the others just continue to stare.

“So you already know everything?” Luke asks and there is a slight emphasis in his voice that makes her realize he is asking for something specific, and she knows what it is, but she isn’t going to let that out just yet.

“Oh do you mean how Alex likes to join me for Dirty Candi performances?”

“How did-”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve walked through you and that chill is pretty hard to miss,” she answers, interrupting Alex’s question. She looks over at Luke and his face is hard to read, but he’s definitely riled up.

“Or are you talking about if I know that you’re connected to Julie because of her mom, whom you met 20 mins prior to your, um….” she trailed off, she didn’t know if their passings were a sensitive topic or not.

“Wait, really?” Julie asked, and Carrie was not aware that she did not know.

“Um, yeah it’s how our parents met. However they didn’t become friends until your mom picked my sobbing dad up off of the streets of Sunset Boulevard, or at least that what he said,” she said nonchalantly. This topic was something her dad discussed multiple times. He was very open with his experience with grief, although she thinks it’s because Dr.Crystal advises him too. She takes another look at Luke, and by now she thinks he can tell she’s avoided the topic purposely. She sighs as he opens his mouth to speak, and talks before him.

“Fine. I know you want know if I am aware that the songs on my dad’s first two albums are Sunset Curves, that he didn’t credit you, and is legally not allowed to discuss it with anyone who doesn’t already know, because somehow his dumb 21 year old self didn’t know how to read through a contract,” she told him exasperated, but was shocked when she did not get an immediate response from the boy in return. Then again none of the others said anything either.

“Oh, you didn’t know about that detail did you?”

“No,” Luke said quietly, “no we did not.”

“Carrie if you knew all of this why didn’t you tell me. At least about the music part when we were friends?” Julie asked, and Carrie did not realize how this would look to her.

“I didn’t know until middle school, and I thought you knew too. I figured your mom was going to tell you.”

“I didn’t know she knew.”

“I’m sorry Juls. Maybe it was for a good reason. I only found out on accident,” Carrie offered and Julie nodded.

“Is there anything else you might know?” Reggie asked her, but the answer was a little iffy. She knew a lot of things thanks to her dad’s shrine to them, which she still finds weird despite the fact he’s also in the pictures.

“Maybe you should just ask me questions, and I can see what I can answer,” she suggested and they nodded. Alex started.

“Do you know anything about our families?”

“Some things, yes. Uh how sensitive is this topic though?” she wanted to make sure she covered all of her bases before continuing.

“It’s relatively sensitive, but we wanna know,” was all she got in response.

“Um okay, well despite the fact he did not credit you guys, my dad still gave money to your families, or at least those who deserved it. I don’t know much about your family, I’m sorry Reggie.”

“It’s okay,” he said, but she had a feeling it wasn’t. She did not want to over step.

“What about me?” Luke asked, “I know Julie and I saw my parents a couple weeks ago, and I try to visit them often, but I-,”

“You know,” she started cutting him off, “Ms. Emily is always telling my dad it does not do well to keep replaying your mistakes.”

“You’ve met my mom?”

“Yeah I saw her earlier in the month with my dad. We were continuing a tradition he and Julie’s mom started,” she explained.

“What tradition?”

“They bring her flowers on special occasions. I think it was a birthday or something. He’s never gone alone before. If Rose couldn’t go, he’d send them by mail, but he says that anniversaries are hard. I think that’s why he took me too.”

“Oh.”

“ Hey, I don’t know your story, but I don’t believe you should keep blaming yourself.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, I am very familiar with that look.”

“What about my family?” Alex asked, however his situation was a little different, and Carrie was not sure when the right time would come again.

“My dad doesn’t really like to talk to all of them. Mainly just my mom, but-”

“Mom!” Alex exclaimed, cutting her off.

“Yeah, my mom is Alyssa Da-”

“LYSSA, she’s like 10 years younger than him. I can’t believe he…” The boys looked at one another in disgust, but Carrie and Julie, just bubbled with laughter, causing the disgusted looks to turn into confused ones.

“What’s happening. Why are you laughing at the fact that Bobby defiled Alex’s little sister?” Luke asked.

“Okay, can we not say it like that,” Alex grimaced.

“Alex, don’t worry, he didn’t do anything with your sister,” Julie stated.

“Yeah, despite the small resemblances, he isn’t my biological dad,” she added.

“Then why-”

“She had me when she was 16, but instead of putting me up for adoption, she gave me to my dad. I don’t really know everything, but my dad told me when I was 7.” Alex nodded.

“Okay, but earlier you were laughing?” he asked, and Julie giggled beside her.

“Because I’m pretty sure we both thought of the same response,” Julie answered, and looked at Carrie.

“He says it whenever anyone asks about his relationship status in interviews,” Carrie also added.

“ Honey, I haven’t touched a woman since 1999,” they both quoted in sync before breaking out in a fit of laughter once more.

“Bobby is gay?!” all three boys shouted.

“Bi actually,” Julie corrected.

“With a preference for men...guitar players specifically,” Carrie continued.

“Not that any of them last very long according to tabloids,” Julie said aimlessly.

“Yeah, well you know dad is always picky. Apparently he has this thing where they have to match his talent,” Carrie said and she and Julie looked at one another again silently confirming if they were thinking the same thing, before turning back to the boys who were flickering.

“I guess this is our goodbye,” Reggie joked and Carrie cracked a smile.

“For now,” she added.

“Do you think you can come back? Tell us more about your dad and what we missed?” Luke asked, and she shook her head yes.

“Yeah, or you guys could come to mine and I can show you my dad’s Sunset Curve room that he likes to cry in sometimes.” That didn’t really get the laughs she thought it would, and she scolded herself for not remembering that joking about trauma was a Wilson thing, but the boys were gone before she could even back track, so she turned to Julie.

“Well I know they’re still here, but I drove myself so if you wanna hang out I could stick around,” she suggested, and Julie smiled.

“Yeah, I’d like that. Besides I think we have some things to talk about.” She led her out of the studio and Carrie happily followed, knowing that there were most likely three teenage ghosts following her. So yes, sometimes she does pretend to be clueless, because she likes being underestimated, but sometimes it’s good to show all of her strengths, because you might be able to mend a couple of friendships.

[sinfulshelbys]

Wedding Woes | Bonnie Gold x Shelby! Sister

Bonnie Gold x Shelby! sister reader

Warnings: a whole lot of tooth-rotting fluff, a little angsty, worried babies!!

Request: can you do more shelby! sis with bonnie where they get into a fight because of the stress of the wedding

word count:1.2k

with all that’s going on in the world, i wanted to post this incase you guys needed a little break, however, i still want to spread as much awareness as possible on tumblr since i’m primarily using twitter:

here’s a link to a google doc where you can find a bunch of reliable resources and information on where to donate, sign petitions and educate yourself!!!

here’s a link for all my BPOC readers with resources to make sure you’re taking care of your mental health – which is essential!!

as always, i love you all so so much and you can always message me if you need someone to talk to!! 

You were known to overthink things. 

It wasn’t a trait that was common within your family, they always seemed to act first and think later. You, unlike your siblings, tended to mull over an idea for so long that it ends up scaring you out of doing it. 

You didn’t want it to be that way with your wedding. 

However, as you stood in-front of your aunt and sister as they tried to hem your wedding dress you couldn’t help the nagging feeling that crept up on you. Smoothing your hands down the soft baby blue fabric, you hurried off the stool Polly had made you stand on, spinning around to face the two women staring at you in confusion. 

“I can’t do it,” you swallowed thickly, tears beginning to cloud in your eyes. “Pol, I don’t think I can do it.”

Furrowing her brows, Polly removed the pin that she had in-between her teeth to question you. “Can’t do what?”

“Get married.”

With a heavy sigh, Polly watched as you broke down into tears – a mix of pregnancy hormones and being terrified. The older woman pulled you into her comforting arms as you fell to the floor, Ada quickly moving to sit on your left. 

“What has you so worried?” Polly inquired, as you leant into her hold like you did when you were a child and woke from the nightmares that brought you to tears. 

“What if I’m not the wife he needs?” You doubted yourself. “What if he wakes up years down the road and realises that I’m not what he wanted?”

Polly was just about to scold you for being so daft that you couldn’t see that Bonnie would move Heaven and Hell just to make you happy, when Ada interjected. 

“You know I was scared out of my wits when I married Freddie,” your older sister wiped away your tears with the pads of her thumbs. “I was pregnant like you, didn’t have a clue how to be a mother, let alone someones fucking wife! But I figured it out. Granted I didn’t have that long to do it, but I did and if I had the chance to do it all over again I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

It was no secret that you thought you weren’t good enough for Bonnie – it was in the Shelby name, you would tell him. With a sigh, you quietly asked Polly to help you out of your dress so you didn’t ruin it with stains from the black kohl of your mascara that had begun to run down your cheeks.

You didn’t hear the sound of the front door downstairs opening or rushed footsteps running up the stairs as you broke down into another set of tears. You didn’t see the way that Bonnie’s bright smile instantly faded and his hand holding a bouquet of roses fell to his side at your words – his head peeking in through the gap in the door. 

“I can’t do it,” you had fallen into your aunts arms, the stress finally catching up to you. “I can’t get married.”

You didn’t see him walk away.

~~~~~~~~

Bonnie had been ignoring you.

That much you were certain of. He barely uttered more than three words to you, turned his back to you when you both got into bed at night and left before you woke up – leaving you confused.

It had taken you a full three days of trying to talk to him and having your words fall on deaf ears for you to finally confront him. Rolling over in bed, you watched as Bonnie got ready for the day – putting on his suit, as you sat up and cleared your throat.

“Bon,” you softly called out and as expected you received no response – causing you to become snappier; fed up with him ignoring you. “Bonnie.”

The sudden change in your tone had Bonnie glancing towards you before he let out a huff at your frown – running a hand down his face.

“What?” He questioned, tossing his tie on the bed as he threw his arms out in exasperation. 

Raising a pointed brow towards his attitude, you shuffled towards the end of the bed – reaching out for him. You couldn’t help the small sigh of relief that escaped your parted lips when he didn’t pull away from your touch and instead let you guide him to sit on the mattress beside you.

“Are you going to ignore me forever or are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Bonnie refused to meet your intense gaze as he responded – clearing his throat a couple of times while running his clammy hands up and down his thighs.

“When were you going to tell me?” He mumbled, causing you to become even more confused.

“Tell you what? Bonnie, what are you talking about?”

Finally lifting his head to look towards you – you instantly noticed the tears that clouded his pretty eyes that reminded you of the sunsets that graced Small Heath once in a blue-moon.

“You don’t want to get married,” he sighed, running a shaky hand through his knotty curls. “I overheard you talking about it with Pol and Ada. When were you going to tell me?”

You swore you had never felt your heart break more than when you saw nothing but pain and despair on Bonnie’s face – his tears finally falling as he looked back down to the floor of his vardo; his hands furiously wiping them away. 

Without thinking you shifted so you were straddling him, gently cupping his cheeks as you wiped away the tear tracks on his flushed cheeks with the pads of your thumbs. Bonnie let out a shaky breath locking eyes with you as you gently shook your head.

“Bon, I still want to marry you,” you held his face steady, making sure he understood your words clearly. “What you overheard was me panicking. You know that I want to marry you – to love you for the rest of my life. But, you also know that I have never thought I’m good for you.”

Bonnie was quick to rest his forehead against yours – letting out a sigh of relief that didn’t go missed by you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you closer.

“You want to marry me?”

“I’ve never wanted to do something more Bon, I swear it. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you – I never want to hurt you.”

Bonnie pressed a kiss to your nose before burying his face in the crook of your neck, littering your skin with tender kisses – he had always been a man who showed his affection through physical touch.

“I’m sorry I ignored you,” he mumbled as he lifted his head. “I should’ve spoken to you about it instead of ignoring you. I just thought that maybe you’d tell me without me prompting you to.”

“All is forgiven,” you grinned. “Now give me a kiss!”

Bonnie heartedly giggled, turning you both around so you laid on the mattress as he climbed over you – pressing his lips to yours; both of you smiling into it.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he muttered in-between kisses, his words getting lost on your tongue. You chuckled, sincerely speaking the same words back as you got lost in your love – being encased in nothing but Bonnie.

“I can’t wait to marry you!”