#and I’m like. oh so mouth and head r running separately ok that almost sounded like I care (I do and will not admit it)

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

I’m really out here making so many promises let’s see how many I can keep

[calenheart01]

Wings by R + F

Ok here is Chapter 7 as promised and this will be the last chapter for the next two weeks as I need time to figure some things out. Have a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Chapter 7

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                The start of the journey was quite unnerving as we followed the small path through the dark woods. The area was eerily quiet, the ground seemed to swallow the sound of our footsteps. No matter where we stepped it was quiet, the dried twigs laying throughout the path dare not break either, for fear of awakening whatever beast sleeps here. It does not matter much, I do not feel like talking to my sister, I couldn’t believe she’d suggested we abandon the princess. She cannot fool me anymore, the last time she said she’d come back she didn’t, well not this time. I don’t care what she thinks, I’m not leaving. The path opens into a wider trail, the area behind us clearly separated from the new vegetation ahead, and we all sigh with relief. Most of the journey had been in a confined thorny vine tunnel like pathway; because according to dewy that was the only way to go.

“What is that place?” Ash questions with a shiver.

She has changed from the last time I saw her, or maybe I have changed, maybe the hopeful child I once was is gone. Either way, we don’t know each other anymore, so neither of us could trust what the other said. Dewy glances around cautiously before answering her. “The dark woods of Kanderslew, he’s a massive dragon said to be made of Vine and Bones, he sleeps somewhere in that area awaiting his master’s command.”                 Whoever his master is, I hope we never cross paths. A dark green vine seems to reach out and grab hold of my ankle causing me to fall, something clinks together noisily and as I glance down, a fearful yelp slips out of my mouth. Ash is quick to cover it, and I nod fearfully as I point down at the bones I had fallen on, it wasn’t a singular skeleton I just so happened to land on a rather large pile of bones, all seeming charred to death before being left to rot in the darkness of the woods. The three of grimace and Dewy shivers before silently ushering us forward.  Quickly Continuing forward, we listen to the birds singing lightly as we pass by into a much brighter place.

Dewy stands on my shoulder and stretches his wings outwards, the broken one looks good as new, save for the rather large discolored scar running through it. Apologizing once again he waves us off with the last of the directions before he leaves us for his home.

 Ash sighs in slight annoyance. “He’s not going to see us there?”                 She doesn’t let me speak, abruptly pushing passed me to move along on the pointed pathway, kicking rocks as she goes. It’s a short walk that turns into a long crawl through the underbrush entryway, the thick outer protection encasing the spirit pond is tough, and layered with thorns that grab at our clothes. The other side however is beautiful, the pond more lake is deep, the bottom long gone from view and the path on the opposite side almost invisible. The water swirls in beautiful blues and greens, whisps of white swooshing by, it all swirls to the center where the water seems to bubble and rise. It stands like a waterfall before it solidifies into a person…a child…they yawn and rub their eyes as they walk towards us slowly.                 “Wow, more friends to meet already?” The boy speaks to himself as he gets closer to us, he reaches a hand out but quickly retracts it, “No not quite your time…” He seems to pause, his glowing eyes scrunching into a smile as he speaks again.

“What are you guys doing here? Oh! Have you come to visit? It’s been so long; I was starting to think I’d been forgotten…” The boy’s smile is bright as he waves us towards the waters’ edge. Ash looks at him in astonishment as he babbles on about his collection of human teas, the black curls on his head bounce as he gestures towards my pack in excitement. “You even brought me a gift!” He holds out his hand and a strange frog covered in mushrooms I hadn’t seen jumps forward. “But what exactly is it? It doesn’t feel right…” “Um…excuse me, but I’m afraid I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know where the frog came from… please, I don’t understand what you’re talking about and we really don’t have time.” I rub the back of my neck sheepishly as his smile falls, his rambling had started to make me anxious.

Holding his finger up to me he stares at the frog while it croaks to him, I find it strange but wait for it to finish, ignoring Ash’s mumbled confusion. He looks at the two of us before straightening himself. “Oh goodness, I wasn’t aware I was with the two of you…yes, we must get you back on course and quickly…” He waves his hand over the water and tells us to step on to the small lit platform, and cautiously we follow his directions, silently hoping we wouldn’t be harmed.                 The whole interaction was odd, he kept talking of past meetings with us the whole ride over to the other side, urging us to do it correctly this time; whatever that is supposed to mean. Once over to the other side he ushers us to move quickly, looking back and forth between us and the other pathway, I offer a rushed thank you as we speed away in slight fear. My heart hammers loudly in my ears as we bound over the forest terrain, my stomach jumping to my throat the closer we get to our supposed safe haven. I understand now how truly scared I am.                 Pushing ourselves faster we excite at the sight of the forest’s edge. The new town’s towering entrance gate comes into view, its branded banner old and worn, just like its cobblestone streets. The townsfolk stand at their stalls offering what they can to the evacuated people of Gipysm. Most of our townsfolk shuffle closely with their families as they head towards the boats, too afraid to separate and get lost from each other, grabbing what they can on the way.

“Come on, we’ll get some gear and head for the boats at the front.” Nodding at her statement we slow as we pass through the gate, I didn’t want to argue here, I’m only hoping that in all this chaos I can slip away from her.

                Few people pay notice to us, and some move away cautiously, our roughed exterior an unknown threat to them. Ash holds tight to my hand as she leads me though the crowd, many of the stall owners call out for our attention, offering food and spare clothes. She ignores them all to finally stop at a small indoor shop, the sign on the front stating its clearly closed to everyone, but the golden bell dings quietly as she pushes the worn blue door open. There’s a man inside, tall but stocky, a tattoo of what looks to be a dragon races down the outside of his left arm as he steps quickly towards Ash. To say I’m baffled is an understatement, the man cups her face as he pulls her into a passionate kiss. “My love!” He starts, speaking in between more chaste kisses. “I was worried sick” He continues as she smiles daintily, something I didn’t know she could do, and then they part to stare lovingly at each other. “Jae...this is my beloved and betrothed…Darius.” She runs her thumb over the back of his hand, he sticks his other out to me, but I stare in disbelief.

“You must be the famed little sister I keep hearing so much about.” He smiles and I can tell he’s trying to be genuine but this new information has brought me nothing but pain.

“And you must be…out of your mind…”

I can feel tears begin to well within my eyes and I can no longer bare the sight of his face. Ash’s expression is one of surprise, her yellow irises blown so wide the color is almost invisible. I’m halfway out the door by the time she grabs my arm.

“What is wrong with you, I thought you’d be happy for me?!” I keep my hand on the door handle, my fingers tightening to keep from shaking, and refuse to look at her.

“Believe me…I’m happy for you. I’m happy you found a family that finally lives up to your standard… but now’s not really a great time to ‘meet the in-laws’�� I pull my arm from her hold and leave her standing there in silence.

                I hear the bell jingle again as the door closes behind me, the tension from the shop dissipating into the air of the busy crowd. I have few coins left on me, the bulk of my wealth lost to the river by the hole in my coin-pouch. I would need many things for my journey to find the princess, traveling between shops I grab what little free items may be useful. I pay for a small leather satchel from an elderly woman by the water front, further inland I find a young lady selling hand sewn clothes, the only outfits left on display seemed to be of the men’s design; but that was better than the torn sheer nightwear that I’ve been wearing for 2 days.

                I didn’t have much choice on the outfits, each piece seemed to be copies of each other in different colors, the last of the clothes left from everyone’s rush to escape. The set I chose consisted of a deep green vest with a long sleeve white button-up shirt, black pants with a sort of drawstring waistband, and a pair of brown lace up boots that were a tad too large for my feet. I gave the young lady the last of my coin, she smiled brightly but I couldn’t return the gesture, every second that pasted by brought more weight of the past couple days down onto my shoulders. Gathering the items in my arms I turn to find somewhere to change, I’m not overly excited about the situation, but I need to make do until I can figure out how to help the princess.

                A calloused hand lands gently on my shoulder, the face of my sisters apparent betrothed coming into view as he turns me to face him, his expression is concerned and he hesitates for a moment.

“…Whatever happened between you two doesn’t matter right now, we can’t let past actions split us apart in the midst of danger. I need you to come with us to safety.”

                I shake my head, I don’t know if I can act like none of that matters, she abandoned me and now she wants to abandon our Royal family. For a decorated and loyal soldier of the kingdom she isn’t very loyal. A familiar voice somewhere in the crowd catches my attention, strained and borderline frantic from down the way, people gasp as they move out of the way of pounding feet.

“Where are we going??” The voice is masculine, and hoarse from short breaths, but the person it belongs to is none other than the Mabiella boy; an arrogant and self entitled brat.

‘Cassian…’ My mind sneers as he steps forward with his usual boisterous strut.

                The blonde boy has always been a thorn in my side and I feel sorry for the poor girl who has to marry that sod. He liked to walk past my home midday when the sun was at its highest, flaunting his golden wings as the rays hit them just right, boasting about how one day he’d be king. His father still makes him attend sword lessons with my father, he only ever complains of the strain it puts on his arms, saying he’d never have to handle a sword. I can’t understand why he thinks he’ll be King, the Royal Family would never promise their daughter to the likes of him, he has to be lying. Not too far behind him is the princess and another girl similar to Cassian, coming to a stumbling stop as they catch their breath, and a wave of guilt along with relief rushes over me. I step hastily towards them, catching the princess’ eye for a moment before addressing the boy. “Mabiella…” I snap at him coldly as he begins to circle me slightly.

The boy scoffs as he turns to me, adjusting his golden locks as he eyes me up and down. “Neecrusha…I expected you to end up down here with the commoners…I just never thought it’d be like this.” The blonde boy keeps his nose upturned as he gestures down at our roughed outfits.

                I disregard the boy in favor of the Princess, despite the clear exhaustion in her expression she looks to be alright, she has traded her soaked nightgown for a nicer pale lavender casual gown. Without time to properly introduce ourselves, this was the first time either of us had had a chance to attempt any sort of a greeting.

“You…you’re…” Her pause has me feeling guilty again.

“The girl who ruined everything, yeah, listen I am really sorry. I should not have tried to step in.” Bowing my head in both respect and shame I kneel as I await her response, I know not what punishment shall befall me once the king returns, but knowing now that I have brought shame to the Kingdom will scar me forever.

“Who are you anyway…to whom do I owe my thanks?” My head snaps back up to hers in disbelief, she owes no thanks to me for the damage I have caused us both.

“Wha…I…Jae I suppose” She smiles with an airy laugh as she extends her hand to my knelt form, still shocked I take her hand cautiously, she gives a small tug and I stand as she introduces herself as Dawn. The other girl seems to glance at the woods in slight agitation as she steps forward, “My names Casey, nice to meet you but we need to go, now.” As though they knew our next move a hoard of people come rushing out of the forest, shouting obscenities, and calling out to each other to stop them. The commotion draws the attention of the crowd, someone screams out and the streets turn into chaos. The four of us bunch up close and I try my best to tell them to follow as I try to get us back to my sister. Shuffling quickly with the crowd of panicked pushing and children’s cries, we move closer to the last place I saw them, as we near the door I see the two of them exit the door with worried eyes. I call out to Ash as we near the door, fumbling as we struggle to move with the people, Ash and her fiancé join our group as we look for an escape. The evacuation boats seem to be the only option, in the distance we can see our enemies closing in on all sides, so we are left with no choice. “It’s the only way, we have to go!” Everyone nods in agreement as we push further into the crowd. The edge of the docks comes quicker than we expected, the drop so sudden a few of us almost fall over the edge into the dark waters. Frantically looking up and down the docks we find the closest ships and head for the small rickety wooden board leading to the deck above us. The captain of our ship waves a small blue flag to the other ships, in response each of the crews jumps into action, The sails fall down into place, the anchor is hoisted up, and the boarding ramps are removed as the ships push away from the edge of town. The wind picks up in the sails almost instantly as the point of the ship cuts through the water, leaving large bouts of white foam from the crashing wake, while it speeds away from the danger. In the distance I can see his face, sword raised as he shouts a promise of our capture, an army at his back, and the chilling sight of my own face at his side. A sigh leaves my mouth, I slide down to sit on the deck with little room to stretch my legs, we’re safe for now.

[inyourwildestdreamslove]

Fearless: Chapter 6

You deal in fear…

So who else to help Klaus master his powers? Who is quite determined to set you up with his brother…

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“No one ever does darling…”

Diego x Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 6: Love, Gimme Love

The next morning you are woken up by Cleo bumping her head against yours. You open your eyes to see a pair of vibrant yellow eyes gazing down at you. She is laying on your chest and seems intent on you getting up. 

“Alright...I’m up…”

Grabbing a long cardigan you put it on and wrap it around yourself to protect you against the morning chill. You cautiously step around a sleeping Diego who is sprawled out on the makeshift bed in your room. He insisted on putting himself between you and the door. The silence of the house is almost deafening as you make your way into the kitchen. Standing in your kitchen is the man from the night before. 

“Who are you?” you ask calmly. 

He jumps before he turns around, “Uhh… well…”

You raise an eyebrow at the man before. 

“A friend of Klaus?” 

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself,” you say as you cross your arms over your chest as you regard him harshly. 

“Look… we uh… knew each other a while ago and I just wanted…” he says awkwardly scratching his head. 

“To use him?” 

You ask bluntly.

“Huh? Who are you?” he asks defensively as if questioning his clearly questionable motives is simply unheard of.

“Look, Klaus is my friend and we’ve worked hard on getting and keeping him sober. What happened last night?” Your question is like a bullet as you fire it at him.

“You sure you’re just his friend? You sound like a jealous girlfriend,” he snaps back.

“What Klaus does with his time romantically is none of my business, I merely want to know why months of progress was thrown to the wind last night.”

“Look, he’s a grown man, it’s not my fault he doesn’t take rejection well,” he snaps. 

“Get out of my house,” you say monotonously. 

“What?”

“You heard her,” Deigo’s annoyed voice comes from the doorway. 

The mystery man whips around to see Diego standing in the doorway. 

“Who are you?!” he exclaims in shock.

“Klaus’ brother, who are you?”

“Uhhh… Listen man…”

“No, you listen man,” Diego as he takes a menacing step towards him, “leave Klaus alone. He was doing just fine until you came along and messed him up again. We’re trying to help him. If you don’t have his best intention in mind, you don’t need to be near him, understand?”

The guy nods in fear as he regards Diego. 

“Why did he listen to you and not me?” you whine catching Diego’s attention, “Is it the macho guy thing?”

Diego hides a smile as he regards you, “It's because you’re so cute.”

You pout and cross your arms which only seems to make Diego’s point.

Diego turns back to the mysterious man standing in your kitchen and glares at him, “What are you still doing here? She told you to leave!”

He jumps in surprise before he grabs his pants from the living room floor and scrambles to leave. The sound of your front door slamming closed behind him indicates that you and Diego fulfilled your mission to get rid of him. 

“What do you think happened?” Diego asks.

“I think he rejected Klaus,” you say softly.

You regard your kitchen before making your way into the living room and frowning at the mess that the two men made last night. The scent of stale cigarettes lingers in the air mixed with the faintest scent of weed. The pungent scent of beer drifts up from your carpet and you notice where it looks like one or two was knocked to the ground. You’re thankful that you didn’t find any evidence of anything else. Relatively speaking this relapse seems to be minor even if it’s unwelcome. 

It’s a few hours of cleaning before Klaus wakes up and walks out of his bedroom. He looks ashamed as he makes his way into the now clean living space avoiding your eyes. 

“I’m sorry…” he croaks out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

You regard him with a frown as you turn your attention away from the book you're reading to the man standing in the doorway. 

“I just don’t get it…” you say softly, “you were doing so well…”

“I just…”

Diego comes out of the kitchen two cups of coffee in his hands as he makes his way over to you. He hands you one before he settles himself back onto the couch beside you, his arm draping itself over the back of the couch lingering in the space behind you.

Klaus looks surprised to see Diego there, “Diego?”

“He walked me home last night after the match. You opened the door and you were obviously drunk and there was a man passed out on my couch. Diego didn’t feel right leaving me alone with him.”

Klaus winces as you tell him about the events of last night, “He was…”

He stops and takes a shaky breath, “We used to…” he tries again.

“It’s okay…” you murmur as you pat the place on the couch next to you. Klaus plops down in the space next to you and leans into you. His head comes to rest on your shoulder as he heaves a sigh and you notice tears threatening to fall once again. 

“I thought he liked me…” he says with a sigh, “No one has really given me the time of day sober… except for Dave… maybe ever… Kyle and I’ve been talking lately. We used to run in the same circle a few years ago, but he really just wanted a hit of something, he didn’t want me...”

Klaus leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees running his hands up and down his face. 

“Klaus, he’s a jerk and you deserve someone so much better than him,” you say softly. 

“I just want…someone to love me...”

“Hey…” you say softly, “I love you, maybe not in the way you’re talking about, but I do love you. And I want what’s best for you. I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn’t try to find someone if you’re lonely, but maybe stay away from people from your past. If you need companionship we can look into hobbies for you okay?”

“You aren’t mad? You aren’t kicking me out?” he asks looking at you in surprise, “You still want to help me?”

“Klaus… you’re trying so hard. I’m not going to say I’m not disappointed, but you aren’t perfect. You’ve spent years of your life being high on something to escape feeling anything real, it’s ridiculous of me to expect you not to slip up. Especially, when the only way you know how to cope with anything is with drugs and alcohol. I’m just relieved that it wasn’t something worse.”

Klaus just blinks at you before he wraps himself around you. You feel his tears wet the shoulder of your tee shirt as you hold him against you. You slowly rock him back and forth as you allow him to cry. 

Pulling away Klaus wipes his eyes before he regards the two of you, “So Diego walked you home huh?”

“Oh for the love of…” Diego trails off his hand coming up to run up and down his face in exasperation. 

You blush as you look away from Klaus and his dancing eyebrows. 

“Nothing happened…” you mutter as you grumble under your breath, “the universe made sure of that…”

Klaus breaks out into a grin having heard your muttering, “So you DO like Diego! I knew it! Diego! When you take her to bed make sure that you take very good care of my flower okay? She’s been very stressed lately! She deserves-”

“Klaus!” you yelp in embarrassment before you launch yourself at your friend, your hand going over his mouth to stop the words from leaving him. 

“W-what?! W-why a-are you?” Diego stutters in embarrassment.

Klaus just cackles as he grabs your wrists to keep your hands from his mouth, “She deserves-”

“Klaus if you finish that sentence I am not cooking for you for a month!” you threaten. 

He looks up at you in wide-eyed horror, “A month!?”

“A month!” you exclaim, still fighting with him. He may be scrawny, but he’s a lean and strong scrawny. 

He gasps dramatically before muttering a ‘fine,’ under his breath. You regard him with narrowed eyes suspiciously for a few more moments before you are satisfied with his silence. The air now feels heavy as both you and Diego shift uncomfortably in your seat. 

“So did he teach you how to throw knives? That’s his oldest-”

“Klaus!” Diego roars as he launches himself at his brother, getting caught in the crossfire and ending up in a dog pile between the two brothers and yelping as someone’s elbow is in your side.

“Guys!” you yell as Diego fights to get to the cackling Klaus. 

“Get off!” you yelp pushing the two away from you, Klaus just clings to you as he yells for you to save him from Diego. 

“I need a- something…” you say your head in your hand after you have untangled yourself from the fight and the two brothers have calmed down. Ok so you banished them to separate sides of the couch but that is beside the point.  

“You should take a relaxing bath! That always helps me! I’m sure that Diego would love to join-”

“Klaus!” you both yell in unison as he snickers to himself, obviously proud of his ability to make you both uncomfortable. 

“What?! That is not going too far! They both need to get laid! It would-”

“Klaus!” you both yell again interrupting his one-sided conversation with Ben. 

He just laughs and you shake your head attempting to ignore your best friend and your crush respectively. 

“I’m going to make lunch,” you grumble as you get up. 

“I’ll help,” says Diego as he gets up off of the couch to follow you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” yells Klaus.

“There isn’t anything you wouldn’t do,” snips Diego.

“Exactly.”

You roll your eyes as you head into the kitchen with Diego hot on your heels. You head towards the refrigerator to see what you have to eat. 

“You know…” You glance over your shoulder at Diego as he stands in the middle of the kitchen. He’s fidgeting and keeps crossing and uncrossing his arms and ruffling his hair. 

“Yeah…?” you trail off waiting for him to continue. 

“Can I take you out? O-on a-a-a r-real date?” 

You blink at him for a moment confused about his sudden nerves, “Of course you can.”

He smiles in relief before he nods, “Good.”

You giggle at him as you pull some pasta salad off of the shelf and put it on the counter. 

“What would make you think I wouldn’t want to go out with you after last night?” you ask with a sly smile. 

“Well… I didn’t know if you were… you know… just being nice…”

“Letting you almost kiss me isn’t me being nice Diego, it’s me wanting you to kiss me,” you murmur with your hands on your hips. 

“Oh? You want me to kiss you?” he asks with a cocky smirk as he takes a step towards you. 

“I thought I made that abundantly clear last night?” you ask as you turn back towards him. 

His hands find their way to your waist as he gently pulls you towards him. He leans his head down before he brushes his nose against yours. A soft smile blooms onto your face and he chuckles as you give him an Eskimo kiss. With a surge of confidence, Diego leans down and captures your lips in a chaste kiss. 

“If you two are going to go at it like rabbits… I would like to be informed so I can vacate the premises,” Klaus interrupts.

You and Diego jump away from one another like teenagers at high school prom and blush. 

“Klaus!” Diego growls as he regards his brother.

“They do make a cute couple…” Klaus says as he turns to the empty space next to him, where no doubt Ben was. 

Diego sends Klaus a warning look as Klaus just sends you a wink with a smirk on his face. 

“Oh leave it, Diego… He’s never going to let us live this down…” you grumble as you push Klaus out of the kitchen, “You’ve been rooting for this, the least you can do is give us a moment!”

“Okay okay! So pushy now that you have a mans to make you happy!” he gasps dramatically, “Do you love him more than me now! Are you going to ignore me in favor of Diego?! What have I done?”

Klaus’ eyes widened in dramatized horror showing he was just joking. 

“Leave Klaus,” you grumble, “I keep getting interrupted and all I want is a kiss, okay? So go!”

“So demanding! Kitty cat aren’t you? Be good to her, Deigo!”

You and Diego both roll your eyes at Klaus as he saunters out of the kitchen. You huff in annoyance as you feel a pair of arms around your waist pulling you into a strong chest. Diego buries his face in your neck and you feel a few chaste kisses as his voice becomes a low grumble. 

“Forget him,” he says nuzzling you, “Let’s enjoy this…” Diego trails off as he presses languid kisses to your neck. You blink up at him as you repress a shiver and drape your hands on his entangling your fingers. He pauses for a second before he turns you in his grip and pulls your body towards  him. You squeak in surprised excitement as your hands rest on his strong chest before you slide them up his chest to dangle around his neck. Diego bows his head and pulls you into a deep fiery kiss that leaves you weak in the knees. You stumble back against the counter as he presses into you, an almost desperate groan leaves his lips as he presses you back into the hard surface. You gasp as you feel his hands slide from your hips to your ass and squeeze your supple curves. He picks you up and sets you onto the counter settling himself in between your thighs and pressing into you. You can feel his bulge as he presses himself almost desperately into you. You let out a soft moan as you press back almost desperate for his touch.

“And another thing!” Klaus says coming back around the corner, mischief in his voice. 

“GET OUT!” you both yell each grabbing the closest thing to you, which just happens to be a dish cloth and the sponge you use to wash the dishes and throw it at him.

“Hey! Fine! Jeeze!” he exclaims with a cackle he walks away effectively dodging the projectiles 

You heave a sigh as you bury your face against his neck and he hugs you to him. 

“That was intense…” you say softly. 

“Too intense?” he asks hesitantly.

“No… Just intense…” you whisper pulling back to look into his eyes. He’s trying to catch his breath too. Almost shly you bump your nose against his and capture his lips again. 

“We’re going to have to find a… distraction… for Klaus,” Diego breathes as he breaks the kiss. His voice still a little breathy from the earlier passion.

You just nod absently as you gently push him away suddenly feeling too hot, “Yes… we definitely are…” 

With a sigh you turn back to the task at hand, or better yet your distraction from Diego’s lips, and finish preparing lunch. 

When you both exit the kitchen Klaus is sitting innocently on the couch as you hand him a sandwich with the side of pasta salad you made yesterday. 

“Finished so soon? At this rate I’ll never be an unc-” Klaus begins only for Diego to smack the sandwich the of the way into his mouth causing Klaus to sputter indignantly. 

“Careful Klaus… Or you might find yourself kicked out afterall,” you say with a smirk at your friend. 

“You wouldn’t?!” he gasps scandalized. 

“Try me… Interrupt again and see what happens…”

Klaus snaps his mouth shut in a pout as he regards his sandwich before murmuring, “You two are no fun…”  

“Oh, we’re plenty of fun… We just keep getting interrupted….” grumbles Diego. 

“What happened last night?” Klaus asks innocently.

“Some assholes…” you mutter in derision as you take a violent bite of your sandwich remembering the events of the night before. 

“Did you…?”

“Yes…”

“Are you okay?” Klaus asks in concern. 

“I’m fine, Klaus,” you murmur with a smile, “Things just got a little dangerous last night is all…”

“Well, I'm glad Diego was with you at least,” Klaus says decisively, “He’s always good in those situations.”

Diego looks surprised as he regards his brother, “Thanks, man…”

“I mean (Y/N) is a force to reckon with so it wasn’t like she needed help, but it’s always good to know someone is there,” Klaus continues, completely destroying the moment. 

“Thanks, man…” Diego reiterates, this time with a scowl. 

You chuckle as you watch the interaction as you settle back against your sofa, “So who is up for a movie?” 

“Isn’t your new one out?!” Klaus exclaims, “the one you worked one a few months ago?!”

“It is! Do you want to watch it?” You answer.

A book on the far wall falls to the ground indicating that Ben is there and he does.

“I do! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen any of your work,” Diego says suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing a film you’ve worked on. 

“Cool! Let’s put it on!” you say in excitement. 

You quickly put the movie on and relax against Diego who had instantly pulled you against him. Klaus being Klaus laid down so his head is resting in your lap and the sudden chill in the corner of the couch, and the way that Klaus kicks at the otherwise empty spot indicates Ben is resting there.  

You feel a sense of contentment as you spend a lazy day with the people you have come to care for more than anyone.

Notes: Super excited for the renewed interest in this story! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please drop some love and leave a comment or send a message! It makes my day!

[myveryownfanfiction]

Chapter 4

It had been a couple of weeks since Billy and I had confessed our feelings for each other. Being one of the few patients who was able to help out, Nurse Ratched had enlisted me along with Billy, Taber, Cheswick, and Harding to decorate the day room for Halloween. Billy and I were currently hanging paper bats from the ceiling around the nurse’s station. I laughed as Billy gently rocked the chair I was standing on. 

“Billy Bibbit!” I laughed as the chair rocked a little harder and I started to lose my balance. I reached out and gripped Billy’s shoulders to keep me upright. “Quit it Billy!” He smiled up at me as he wrapped an arm around my legs and harshly rocked the chair again. My eyes widened as I lost my balance completely. I closed my eyes before realizing Billy was keeping me upright. 

“I g-g-got y-you.” Billy smiled as he helped me down gently. I shook my head at him as I turned towards the nurse’s station door. Knocking on it, I handed the remaining bats and tape to Nurse Ratched. 

“All done with those.” I smiled at her, having finally got in her good graces. “Anything else for us to do?” Billy joined me and looked at Nurse Ratched expectantly. Using our closeness, he discreetly put his hand on my back. I leaned into it and smiled at Billy when Nurse Ratched turned around to pick something up. 

“The two of you could go outside and put these cobwebs on the bushes.” She said, giving Billy and I a look before handing us the fake cobwebs. Billy gathered them into his arms as I got the keys from Nurse Ratched. “Come right back in once you finish. No funny business.” Nurse Ratched gave Billy a look. He nodded before leading me out the door separating the dayroom from the rest of the institution. 

“What was that look for?” I asked as I bumped shoulders with Billy. He looked at me with a small smile. 

“I t-turned to to r-run aw-away once.” He admitted. “I d-didn’t g-get f-far.” I nodded and looked around before unlocking the door to the outside. I smiled as the breeze hit my face and blew through my hair. 

“That’s ok.” I turned towards Billy, allowing my smile to grow. “At least tried.” He laughed as he handed me a few of the cobwebs. We joked and laughed as we made the front bushes look like they had been covered. It didn’t take as long as we had hoped and we had to go back in. “So Halloween is coming up,” I trailed off. Billy nodded as he locked up the outside door. 

“Y-yeah. S-so wh-what?” He asked. I blinked at him. 

“Are you really not a Halloween person?” I asked in shock. Billy shook his head. 

“N-not r-really.” He shrugged and put his arm over my shoulder as we walked down the hall back to the dayroom.

“Billy, I’m sorry but that’s a little bit of a deal breaker for me then.” I deadpanned before taking the keys back from him. I slipped out from under his arm and started further down the hall. Once I had gotten halfway down the hall, I turned to look at Billy. I started to laugh at the look on his face. 

“Are are y-you s-s-s-s-serious?” Billy had trouble getting the sentence out. My laugh stopped and I raced back to him. I took his face in my hands and gently rubbed circles into his cheeks. 

“No.” I shook my head as I made sure to make eye contact with him. “No. Never.” I pulled him in for a hug. “I was joking. It was a bad joke.” Billy nodded against my shoulder. “I’m sorry Billy.” I whispered as I ran my fingers through his hair. I pulled back and cupped his cheek before wiping a stray tear away. “I really am.”

“I b-b-believe y-you.” He nodded. I shook my head and made up my mind. 

“I’m gonna make it up to you.” I slid my arms around Billy’s neck. His hands automatically went to my waist. I smiled at him while he cocked his head to his side. He looked so cute when he did that. I gently tugged him closer until I could feel his breath on my lips.

“(Y-Y/N)?” Billy whispered. I looked in his eyes and saw he knew what was going on. I nodded and Billy closed the gap, pressing his lips against mine for the first time. I smiled nervously at him as we pulled away. Billy smiled before leaning in and kissing me again. “I l-like th-that.” I giggled as I pulled him into another hug. 

“Come on.” I gently tugged him back towards the dayroom. “Before Ratched has a cow.” Billy laughed and followed me. We went back into the room and I stopped at the nurse’s station to give Nurse Ratched her keys back. “Anything else you need Nurse Ratched?” She shook her head and I smiled at her before joining Billy at the card table. Taber dealt me in and we played until Nurse Ratched called us to the daily meeting. Billy and I took our seats before Nurse Ratched called us to attention. 

“Today we are going to be talking about Halloween.” I smiled at Billy and he rolled his eyes. “(Y/N), looks like you have something to say about it.” I shrugged. 

“I mean Halloween’s my favorite holiday so I guess.” I smirked over at Harding, who was sitting there with his mouth open like he had been about to say something. Nurse Ratched smiled to herself at my childish antics. 

“Why is that?” She asked me. I was practically bouncing in my seat. 

“I mean for one the obvious candy.” I ticked off my fingers. “Then there’s the fact that it is the one day in the whole year that you can dress up and pretend to be someone else. There’s the parties and the traditions like carving pumpkins and hanging decorations.” Billy smiled at my enthusiasm. “Oh!” I exclaimed as I looked  over at Billy. “I nearly forgot the horror movies! You get to sit around all day and watch horror movies before going out with everyone one else either to trick or treat or go to a party!” Nurse Ratched nodded her head as she made some notes. I was fully aware that she was marking down my over enthusiasm for horror movies but I could care less. Everyone had their vices. Horror movies were mine. 

“And what about all that violence and gore?” Harding cut in. I turned towards him and cocked my head. 

“Scared of a little blood and guts Harding?” I asked in a baby tone. “Afraid the boogeyman is gonna get you?” Some of the circle laughed as Harding’s face turned red. “All it is is basic corn syrup dyed red and plastic guts. Nothing scary at all about it.” I shrugged. “Besides if you honestly think any of that is real, well maybe you do belong in here.” Nurse Ratched cocked her head at me. 

“You don’t believe any of it is real?” She asked me. I shrugged again. 

“I mean sure while you are watching it and your adrenaline is going and its pitch black out and there’s no one in the house but you. But once it is over and the lights go on and you surround yourself with people, it was just an experience you had. No different than say,” I paused and tapped my chin thoughtfully. “Having sex with your wife.” I looked over at Harding with a smirk. He was fully red in the face and glaring at me. Billy was hiding behind his hand as he laughed and Taber was openly amused at my dig at Harding. 

“Anyone else have an opinion on the topic?” Nurse Ratched moved the conversation along while the three of us struggled to get ourselves under control. I zoned out for the rest of the meeting, relishing in the fact that I was able to get Harding so worked up. “Alright. That’s the end of the meeting today. Remember we have a small Halloween party before the end of the day and I would like to see everyone there.” We all got up and put our chairs back where we had gotten them. 

“You guys ever have a Halloween party here before?” I asked as Billy and Taber sat down at the card table again. 

“Once.” Taber said. Billy shook his head. 

“M-must h-have b-b-been b-b-b-before I g-got h-here.” Billy shrugged. Taber nodded in agreement. 

“Almost destroyed the day room.” Taber chuckled. “I think someone got out. And I think someone tried to kill the Chief.” I looked at Taber in shock. 

“Seriously?” I asked. He nodded. “Sounds like some party.” I rubbed my hands together. “I can’t wait until our party starts.” Billy rolled his eyes as I gave them my best evil smile. We played cards until the party started. Nurse Ratched had music playing for us and one of the other nurses brought cookies. One of the orderlies had brought punch for us as well. The three of us hovered around the nurse’s station for most of the party. Taber had said something in reference to the last horror movie that he had seen in theaters and it made me laugh so I tried to cover it with my drink. Billy laughed and shook his head. 

“What about you (Y/N)? What was the last movie you saw?” Taber asked. I shrugged. 

“Probably Psycho.” I took another drink. “It wasn’t that scary but it did mess with my head a little. Couldn’t look at a shower without throwing back the curtain for weeks.” Billy laughed and I gently hit his arm. “It’s not funny! You guys haven’t seen it! It’s pretty creepy!” Taber started laughing at my reaction. 

“(Y/N)’s right.” Nurse Ratched joined our conversation. I waved my hand at her. 

“See?” I laughed. “Thanks Nurse Ratched.” She nodded and went over to the TV to turn it off. The song changed and Billy looked at the small group that had taken up dancing in the middle of the day room. 

“C-c-care t-to d-d-dance?” He asked me, holding his hand out. I smiled and put my hand in his. Taber took our drinks as we made our way to the dance floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him pull me close by his arms around my waist. I buried my head in the crook of his neck and I felt Billy’s smile as we started to slowly dance. The song came to a close and Billy kissed my cheek before pulling away. We turned to walk back to Taber when we saw the look on Nurse Ratched’s face. I swallowed the lump in my throat while Billy squeezed my hand.

[irwintry]

Jean Jacket

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, drug mention

Summary: Y/N and Luke have been best friends, but they haven’t seen each other in years. Based loosely off of the song “Jean Jacket” by The Summer Set.

Word Count: 9.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You messaged him at 10:14 in the morning. It felt unnatural, and a knot formed in your stomach once you hit send.

You:

hey.

string bean

He didn’t reply until 6:24 that night.

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Don’t call me that.

I’m toned now.

You:

oh my bad

what’s a thicc vegetable

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I don’t know

You:

you have cool hair

so do asparagus’

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Don’t call me asparagus.

You:

sorry

sexy stalk of corn

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I hate you

You:

i love u squid

should i learn how to use photoshop

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Absolutely not

I don’t want to be photoshopped onto corn

What do you want?

You:

oh sorry am i bothering u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Yes

You:

:o

rude

string bean

Message not delivered.

why aren’t my messages sending

did u block me

wtf asshole

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Hehe

You:

i'm gonna kick ur ass

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Good luck reaching it.

You:

ok getting on a plane rn

and jokes on u

i'm bringing a step ladder w me

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I’ll pay

You:

bet?

did u just fucking venmo me

squid????

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Maybe

You:

luke

do u want me to visit u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I just venmo’d you

You:

wait do u rly want me to visit u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Yeah.

You:

wait ok shit... when works best for u

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Literally whenever

You:

don’t u have tours and shit

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Not for five months

You:

oh fuck.

ok I’ll start looking

shit dude

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I miss you.

You:

i miss u 2 squid

sorry i mean

string bean

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

JK. Can you venmo me back?

You:

no fuck u

it’s mine now

-

You weren’t in airports often.

You never grew accustomed to the atmosphere–– the hustle and bustle of business class and the lack of knives in terminal restaurants. You had no reason to be acquainted. Yet, there was still a familiar panic that gripped you as you stood shoeless and alone in the line for security. The terminals were each a maze of their own, and the heavy Jansport hanging off of your shoulder pushed down against your tight muscles.

You preferred traveling with another person. In fact, you preferred to not travel at all. The comfort of your home held Jeopardy re-runs and take-out Chinese. Whereas your terminal had startling gate announcements and overpriced froyo, and they didn’t even have toppings. The bathrooms smelled of poo no matter what time you chose to use them, and you sat on the toilet in mild discomfort, suitcase meshed between you in the broken metal stall. The same abandoned luggage announcement had played sixteen times since your arrival through security.

But you tried to think about the positive outcome of your travel. You saw yourself running up to him, hands slipping the bulky luggage to the ground as you threw your arms around him. He stood there smiling and calling you old nicknames you had been forced to read over text for six to seven years. And then he would take your hand and guide you to his car, his ever-present smile never faltering because you were there, and he was with you. It would be just like old times.

You thought about all of the places you would go and the people you would meet. Anxiety puddled your head when you thought about meeting his friends. They were untouchable, glamor and gold and all things Hollywood untold. And you were you, but Luke had changed, too.

-

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Still arriving at 6:13 in Terminal B?

You:

u bet ur (terminal B)um

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

That was one of your worst.

You:

ur right i gotta work on my comebacks on the flight

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

That wasn’t a comeback...?

You:

tHat WasN’t a CoMebAcK

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Die.

-

You fell asleep on the flight.

Economy class forced you between a professor in his mid-forties and an athletic coach whose knees nudged against yours every time he shifted. You had started the flight off with a movie, some Anna Kendrick rom-com that stimulated a headache worth three bottles of Ibuprofen. Soon enough you were hobbling over long legs, bladder aching from an unbearable pressure, and then the lavatory was occupied.

You filled the next few hours with a playlist you had made for the flight. Luke’s songs lulled you to sleep–– but you wouldn’t tell him that. You wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction, not unless the moment called for it. That moment only occurred a few times within a year. That moment occurred during the times he came to you when he thought he had no one else.

And you would never tell him how selfish you felt. You would never admit that you loved those moments because you felt important. You felt like he needed you.

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep for after you woke. The plane was dark and quiet, and not a soul breathed a word. So, you settled down into your seat and kept the light of your phone low. The time was 5:35 in the morning.

The airplane awakened a little after six o’clock, brightness flooding in followed by a chorus of groans and moans. You toyed with the sleeves of your jacket and felt incredibly small. The nerves in your chest simmered, and you thought about the shaky steps you would soon take to reach the arms of an old friend. You didn’t know why the blistering excitement felt so bad. You wanted to sit back down and take a one-way flight all the way back home.

-

Luke was in airports all too often.

He grew accustomed to suitcases rattling against filthy marble floors. He memorized the high-pitched, buzzy tone of squeaking escalators in frequented terminals. The familiarity overwhelmed him, and he had almost convinced himself he was among the many travelers on this day.

But he stood alone, not a single ounce of hurry in his bones while he waited for the arrival of an old best friend. The rising sun outside seeped through the large glass windows, yet the warm colors touched his back and kept his chest cold. He wanted your embrace, and he wanted the heat of your smile. Because he didn’t quite remember how it made him feel. He saw your face through pictures and videos, but the comfort of your presence faded from his memories.

Strangers eyed him. He could picture them searching the depths of their brain and wondering why they knew him. At the moment, he wished he wasn’t known. He wished he was seventeen again, the year the excitement was fresh and when the world didn’t seem so small. He wished he still knew you like he had back then.

Luke was tired.

-

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

i need some fucking food

He felt nauseous and numb as he laughed at your words. It was like stage fright, like the intense, sickening nerves had hadn’t felt in years. His fingers trembled against the screen of his phone.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

also where r u

can u meet at baggage claim

i get nervous when i have to pick up my bag

i get scared that i’m gonna miss it

is that weird

Luke’s stomach knotted, and he typed out a quick affirmation while he kept his eyes locked on the small crowd of faces. Faces that looked like they hadn’t slept in forty years. But then again, Luke felt as though he looked the same way.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

what happens if i miss my bag

Luke:

It comes back around.

Don’t worry

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

fffuckkkkkk customs

Luke:

Lol.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

escalators escalators escalators

Luke:

Eels.

-

Luke swallowed the bile rising to his throat. It had been years. He hadn’t seen you face-to-face in years, and he still wondered what it was about the moment that made him nervous. The anxiety caused him to shiver, and he tugged the sleeves of his sweater up and under his fingers. His eyes ached from lack of sleep, but he hoped your energy would change that. He hoped his nerves would ease the minute you opened your mouth. All he wanted was for it to feel natural.

He thought he saw you. He thought he had immediately recognized you from across the room, but the stranger was in a dress. Luke knew you would never––in your right mind––wear a dress to travel anywhere. So, he kept his eyes on the person as they walked away, and then there was a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey Squid.”

Luke glanced to his right, heart stammering in his chest at the sound of your voice. You were smiling, your eyes tired yet warm while the jean jacket you wore swallowed you whole. His jean jacket.

“You busy later?”

He cleared his throat and reached up to brush a few hairs away from his face. He didn’t know how to speak or initiate any kind of touch. He didn’t know how to talk to you anymore. “Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled with a small smile. “Got plans.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “You do?”

Luke hummed. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking. “Meeting up with this old friend,” he said. “They flew all this way t’see me, and to be honest, that was kinda dumb of them.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you replied with a laugh. “We gonna hug or just like, stand here looking like assholes?”

“The latter,” he said, and you rolled your eyes. Luke laughed as he allowed himself to push down nerves and throw his arms around you. It was a warm hug, just like he wanted it to be. “I see you still got that fuckin’ jacket.”

“Technically, it’s your jacket,” you said, pulling away. Your hair was messy, but he found it endearing. You looked like his best friend even though the years had separated the two of you. You looked soft and sweet, and he didn’t know why he wanted to keep holding you.

You nodded to yourself. “Got my suitcase,” you told him. “No thanks to you. In case you didn’t know, this isn’t baggage claim.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “’m sorry. I’m tired.”

“Oh, sorry to bother you,” you replied, smiling brightly before sending him a wink. “I’ll be going then.” You took a few steps toward the door.

Luke caught your arm. “No, no, you’re not leaving me. We’ve come this far. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, joy.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm, babe,” he said, and two of you made your way outside into the cool morning.

You stumbled behind him, your suitcase smacking against large chunks of concrete on the sidewalk. “Babe? Shit. I just shuttered.”

Luke chuckled. His nerves hadn’t disappeared, but he tried hard to ignore them. He felt out of place. He felt as though his head and his body did not exist on the same plane. He felt like he was caught in a dream. Or maybe it was a nightmare.

“Hey, Lu?” You yawned and curled yourself up in the passenger seat of his car.

Luke thought you looked too damn good. He wanted to tell you. “If you put your feet on my dash, I’ll kill you,” he said instead.

You mumbled something incoherent.

Luke slid his keys into the ignition. “Okay, well, that was not English,” he said, “but nice try.”

“Shut up. I’m tired.”

“I’m tired,” he mocked.

You hit his arm, and his laughter filled the small car. “I’ll kill you first. I was gonna ask you if we can get breakfast, but I changed my mind.”

Luke kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, but he ached to look over at you. He ached to take you in and memorize you like he had done over seven years ago. “We can get breakfast, babe,” he said quietly, glancing your way, and then he smiled. Your knees were pressed to your chest, and you had closed your eyes.

At the stop sign, Luke waited a moment to accelerate. The sunrise painted gold into the sky and onto your skin. He wondered if you had always looked this beautiful. He wondered if he had ever thought so before. All he could remember was the present, and every memory was drowned out by the soft scent of your perfume in his car.

The jean jacket you wore had been his once. He never saw how it looked on you. And he never imagined that the sight of you in it would one day take his breath away.

-

“Do you think I should leave it unbuttoned like this?”

“You’re really asking for my opinion on that?”

“Yes.”

You narrowed your gaze.

“Okay, you’re right,” he said, “unbuttoned it is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Love that my opinion is so valued.”

It had only been a day. Your body clock had yet to reset to the time difference, and you spent the afternoon prior knocked out on Luke’s bed with Petunia cuddled against your stomach. It hadn’t been a terrible way to nap, although your neck ached when you woke. The situation was still surreal. You still refused to believe you had traveled across the globe to visit someone you felt like you hardly knew. Except you did know him. He was Luke. He ate his gummy worms with peanut butter.

Yet, your eyes lingered on his figure on your way into his kitchen. You gazed a little too long when he talked about his plans with you. Whenever he nudged your shoulder or poked your arm, you thought about his touch for a few minutes after. It had only been a day.

And it didn’t take long for him to invite you out to a club.

You didn’t like the feeling of the leather seats against your thighs on the drive into the city. Your shorts had ridden up, and you had the sense that something about the night was off. It wasn’t the intoxicating fragrance of Luke’s cologne or the exposed bit of chest that drove you wild. It wasn’t the unbroken melody he sang loudly or the expensive boots that added an inch or two to his already-towering height. It was how expensive he looked–– how untouchable he was. You had thrift your jean shorts for $15, and Luke was missing a button off of his designer shirt. But there was something else about the night that bothered you, and you couldn’t quite place it. So, you belted along to his favorite songs and pretended as though you didn’t feel sick to your stomach.

Luke’s smile hardly faltered throughout the night. He introduced you to faces you assumed you would never see again, and then he would buy you another drink without asking. You could feel his energy, and not even the blasting bass could distract you from the weight of his laughter. He knew everyone, but it didn’t come as a shock. He had always loved people, and people had always loved him.

So, you sat quietly on the couch, feeling miles apart yet inches away at best. You twirled the tiny straw with two fingers and watched your old best friend bounce from person to person. He had a big heart, you told yourself, he loved people. But the thoughts never pushed down the sinking feeling that he had forgotten about you. It was halfway through the night, and you had been sitting alone for forty-seven minutes. Luke was nowhere to be seen.

You:

luke

You placed your phone in between your thighs. One single text had sent your heart into your throat, and you weren’t sure why. You weren’t sure why you felt so sick at the thought of his response.

You:

r u ok

where’d u go

A few strangers crowded around the couch Luke placed you at. It was his usual spot, he said. No one ever took his spot. But you sat alone, and not a soul cared to join you. They knew you didn’t belong here.

You:

string bean

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

I’m okay.

:-)

You sighed, letting your head rest against the leather cushion while you watched drunken interactions play out. A song you recognized played throughout the cramped club, and you wished you were anywhere else. You wished you were on a bench overlooking the ocean with a bag of tacos separating you and your friend. You wished you were on the bike path by your house, hand-in-hand with someone you had known all too well. You wished you hadn’t fallen witness to a life you had no part in. You wished you could be the person he wanted you to be.

You:

ok i’m just chillin

The empty glass from your drink had perspired onto the table. After a while, the heat of the room had melted the ice as well, and you were stuck wishing you could conjure up the courage to join the crowd. But you couldn’t. You felt out of place, like you didn’t quite belong. All eyes told you so. You carried on waiting, but you were no longer sure what it was you were waiting for.

You:

r u getting hungry

You stopped waiting for a response after fifteen minutes. Luke had left you for two hours in a club, in some town you had never been to before. He had left you, and you had only been with him for a day. An unsettling feeling grew in your stomach, but you wanted to reject it as much as you could. It was Luke, the boy who shot carrots out of his Nerf Guns but ended up giving himself a black eye. It had to be the same Luke.

You gathered up some strength to stand up. The battery on your phone had been roasted from too many games of Solitaire, and Luke still wasn’t answering your texts. You reached down for your sweating drink, but a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders before you could.

“Sleepy,” he said, smushing his face against your back. “Why do you smell like pancakes?”

Your body felt frozen beneath his touch. Every muscle tensed. “I don’t,” you replied. “Can we–– can we go? Is that okay?”

Luke’s arms slid off of you, and you could feel his presence now to the right of you. And for some reason, your head hurt at the thought of looking at him. Yet, you did. His curls had slicked down against his rosy, albeit shiny skin, and his eyes were red and droopy. For those few seconds, you weren’t sure why you had thought him attractive. But it quickly changed. He was looking at you, completely looking at you, and he could tell something was wrong.

“Yeah,” he said, his lips falling into a frown. “Course. You okay?”

You nodded and swallowed back the aching tears that threatened in your eyes. “Jet-lagged,” you mumbled. “That’s all.”

Luke nodded, too. “Okay. Yeah. We can go. I’ll get us an Uber.”

“What will you do about your car?”

He seemed to shrug it off, but it was hard to tell through the mass of sweaty bodies. “She’ll be fine. I’ll find a way to get her.”

“I’m sorry.” You hugged your arms close to your chest as the heat from the club transformed into the cool night air.

“No big deal,” said Luke. “Just another Uber trip to come get her. Then I can take her right back.”

“No, um, about leaving,” you responded. “I’m sorry that I wanted t’leave.”

Luke glanced at you from over his shoulder, brows furrowed and lip tugged between his teeth. “Don’t be, babe. I was gonna leave soon anyway.”

You nodded, and an uneasy silence settled in the air. You wished for the right words to say, but you brain went blank, and you found yourself counting cars that passed by.

“It’s really good to see you again,” said Luke after a while. His voice was low and hoarse, and it made you feel a new type of warmth. “Forgot what it was like t’be with you. It’s nice. Like a breath of fresh air.”

You smiled at him, but you knew that was all you could do.

“Missed you a lot.” He smiled at you, too, and through that smile, he whispered, “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

-

Luke thought it hurt to look at you. Because when he did, he was reminded of the person he had left behind, the person he could have been had he stayed. You reminded him of a lost potential within himself, and he didn’t like it. It made him feel dejected, like a lost cause. And looking at you caused much more pain than that. Looking at you was like looking at the world in color for the first time. He saw you differently, and he wondered if this was how he was always supposed to see you.

It was unavoidable— the dawning feeling that only worsened every day. You had only been with him for a week. A whole week of stealing glances and swallowing down irritant thoughts that a best friend shouldn’t have. A part of him felt like he couldn’t call himself that. He felt like he knew you, but he didn’t know you. He read your personality through words and not actions. Maybe it was time he opened his eyes to the person you had become.

-

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

can u not send me tweets rn

u r literally right next to me

loser

Luke:

Can you not be rude?

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

no

Luke:

Fight me.

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

hehe ok

kinky

Luke:

Shut up

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

i feel the sexual tension already

-

Luke took a breath and glanced your way. The afternoon had been spent with his friends; a brimming beer cup soirée spent around the fire in Calum’s backyard. And for some reason, Luke felt like an anomaly. He had better luck counting the hairs on his leg than concentrating on a single conversation. Meanwhile, you cradled your first drink of the night, torso hidden behind the heavy jean jacket he once owned. Beneath it, only a floral bathing suit covered you, and it was enough to make Luke wonder why he had bothered leaving home in the first place.

He couldn’t hear what his friends said, but he could focus in on every little thing about you. From the shape of your legs, all tucked in beneath you to the small smile you wore as you listened to his friends speak. Your hair had dried from the few minutes you spent in the pool, and after a while, you pulled it out of your face and up into a bun. Luke thought you looked pretty, and he knew it wasn’t the initial heat of the fire that warmed him.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was wrong. You were quiet––timid almost––while you gazed at the palm shadows against the sunset. Even beyond the smiles, you seemed lost. Luke wanted to know why.

-

Luke:

You hungry?

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

fucking starving

tell cal to get better snacks

Luke:

Lol.

I want tacos

Kermit the little bitch frog 🐸:

yoooooooooooooo

can we get tacos?

Luke:

Let’s get some fucking tacos

-

You hadn’t realized how hard it would be.

Luke started a new life for himself seven years prior, and it messed up your world for a while. It had messed up plans and memories you wanted to make with him. You started your own life without the company of your best friend, but he was still a text message away whenever you needed. Because he was still your friend. He still told you every little detail about his life. You knew how things had changed for him, whether they were for better or worse.

You hadn’t realized you would one day face the life he chose for himself. You hadn’t realized how hard it would be. He was the same, but he was so different. Being here simply acted as a reminder that you no longer fit into his life.

It came to you in heavy waves. When the overall reality hit, it hit like a sheet of sadness. You were washed over by emotions while Luke carried on about his favorite restaurant in Italy. You had never been to Italy or France or Spain. You had never been on grandiose adventures, not like Luke. It only hurt because you wished you had been by his side.

The two of you swung by his place for a change of clothes. There was an unexplainable silence that you chose not to break. You felt as though any word from your lips would feel forced, so you kept quiet instead. When you walked back out into the living room in an old tee and leggings, Luke was already there. He was already waiting for you in the patchy jean jacket that you treasured simply because it once belonged to him.

“Still fits, I guess,” he said, and you smiled. It was like old times, so you took a picture of the moment. Luke shot a goofy grin your way, and you had to pretend like it didn’t make your stomach flutter.

“Are there are any taco places you know of that are still open?” you asked Luke after settling into the car. You kept your hands pressed between your thighs. “I’m not really feeling like shitting my pants at a Taco Bell.”

Luke laughed. “Yeah, I know a place.” He turned on the ignition, and right off the bat, a song by The Summer Set began to blast through the speakers. And it felt like a tension had been swept away with the music.

He kept the windows down as you drove, his one hand firm on the wheel and the other out against the breeze. When he sang, he sang low. You couldn’t find it in yourself to sing at all. You could hardly look at him. Yet, you had given into temptation. You gazed at him during the verses and glanced away at the choruses, letting the city lights seep in while you listened to his soft voice. Luke drummed on the wheel during the upbeat melodies, and you found yourself reminiscing on old memories no matter how much you wanted to repress them.

He had always been an awkward kid. The heart on his sleeve never faded or splintered–– it just grew with each passing day. His presence made any form of discomfort wash away, and it still felt that way now. But, as people do, he had changed, and you struggled to find the good in everything. Around you, it was the same Luke you knew. Around others, he had built up a façade for himself. It broke your heart.

Street lamps glistened against the pavement as rain drizzled down. It didn’t last long, and the droplets on the windshield soon dried, but it left an earthy petrichor in the air. A comforting scent that only came with rain. The breeze slipped through your fingers, and you soon felt the words of familiar songs bubble in your chest. They left your lips a second later just as you began to smile. There was something oddly beautiful about the melancholy moment.

So, Luke sang loudly, his hands hitting the wheel while you cried your favorite lyrics. It all came rushing back, and the sorrow melted away. You wished Luke had never left, but you were happy to have this night with him.

-

You unwrapped your taco on your lap. “I’m not gonna tell you you’re wrong for putting that much sour cream on your taco,” you said, kicking your feet out on the stone wall before you, “but you disgust me.”

The waves crashed along the shoreline in the distance, and the beach was dark and eerie. It didn’t matter that it was ten o’clock at night–– the nearby park was busy and loud.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” said Luke, “is it okay if I put sour cream on my taco?”

You kicked his thigh as he broke out in hysterics, and you thought, this is it–– this is what I’ve been waiting for.

“If you get that shit on my jacket, I’ll kill you,” you responded, meanwhile taking an unattractive bite out of the hard shell of your taco. Shredded cheese fell to the ground below.

“Isn’t it technically my jacket?”

You shrugged “Maybe if you had actually bothered keeping it.”

Luke let out a small gasp, and a large dollop of sour cream plopped against the wrapping on his lap. “Maybe if you were smart enough, you’d realize I let you keep it.”

“Oh, shit. That stings.”

“Good.”

“Fuck you,” you said with a laugh. “I deserved to keep it. I was the one who added all of those patches anyway.”

Luke furrowed his brows. “Not true. I added––“ He twisted around and pointed at a small bunny patch on the shoulder. “––this one.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. “You deserve more credit for the tiny bunny patch you found on the side of the road.”

“Thank you.” Luke sighed and grinned, sending a wink your way before biting into his sour cream-coated taco.

You watched the hard-shell crack and fall apart beneath his grip, and you watched as he pouted once the food hit his lap. You stared for too long, burning the image of him in your brain until you were confident it was permanently in there. It burned a little too hot and for a little too long. It continued to burn along the highway while the waves stirred beside you. You were nestled between the hills and the ocean, a cute boy to your left and a strip of heaven laid down before you.

Luke drove for an hour, taking exit after exit until he pulled off near the mouth of a lake in the mountains. The air was stale yet breezy, and exhaustion overwhelmed you. But you kept your eyes from drooping just so you could keep looking at the person you hadn’t realized you missed.

“Come home soon,” you whispered into the dark night. Bugs and other creatures hummed in the distance, meanwhile, you kicked up the crumbled pavement and leaned back against his car. “It hasn’t been home without you.”

Luke let out a quiet laugh, but it was muffled between his lips. “Gonna get all sappy on me now, huh, babe?” he asked, but his smile soon fell when his head turned to face you. He swallowed and faced the stagnant water ahead. “I wanna come home,” he said, “but I feel like I don’t belong there anymore.”

“You’ve always belonged.”

Luke didn’t speak.

“I don’t belong here,” you said, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You had expected an outrageous reaction, something that assured you that he thought you did belong. But he stayed quiet. “This whole city, this place, it’s–– I mean it’s wonderful. I love it. But it’s not me.”

“It’s weird to have you here,” said Luke. His voice had lowered into a faint hush, yet you felt it in your bones. “Not bad weird. You’re just home. You feel like home. I’m not used to that here.”

“You’re home,” you mumbled.

Luke didn’t waste another moment. He pulled you into a hug, one that reminded you of teenage years and restless late nights. It reminded you of a warmth you lost, of strong arms that hadn’t held you in seven years. His chest expanded with each breath, and you listened closely to the air as it left his lips. And then you couldn’t help but dig your fingers into the rough denim along his back. You couldn’t help but press yourself against his chest in order to feel his heartbeat in sync with yours. You ached to embrace his scent–– you ached to embrace everything about him.

There was something in the air as you pulled away, something thicker than the hint of humidity. Whatever it was, you had trouble letting go of Luke. It felt like you had stood there for ages, just staring at his chest and holding onto his waist as if your life depended on it. You felt like crying, and you felt nervous. Something about his presence made you nervous.

When you looked up, Luke had already been looking down at you. A small smile was playing on his lips, and you could hardly see the twinkle in his eye through the dark night. But you weren’t focusing on his eyes. You focused in on that smile, the one that stretched his smooth, pink lips just slightly. The one that kindled some spark in your chest, and you couldn’t look away.

Luke placed a hand on your jaw, his long, slim fingers cradling you in a soft manner. “You okay?” he asked breathily.

You replayed his words in your head and thought about the ways his lips moved around them. No, you weren’t okay. But you didn’t mind the feeling.

“Yeah,” you whispered. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. At the same time, it felt like you couldn’t breathe. The desire to kiss him was overwhelming, and it ached and ached. You tightened your grip on his waist, eyes flickering back up to where his lips had pulled into a concerned pout.

Luke let out a breath and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. His fingers were firm on the back of your head, and then he pulled you in. His lips were on yours, hard yet passion-filled, and neither of you could move. But when he ran out of air, Luke pulled away slowly. His top lip brushed yours as he moved, yet the pressure never left. It still felt like he was kissing you.

Luke had kissed you. And you hadn’t wanted him to stop.

You smiled, fingers toying with the opening of his jean jacket as you glanced down at your shoes. “That was new,” you said lowly.

He laughed, meanwhile running his thumb along the apple of your cheek. It made you feel safe. “Sure was,” he mumbled. “Not bad, though.”

“No,” you replied, looking up. His gaze was intense, but it was the kind of intensity that summoned butterflies. You shrugged. “Not bad at all.”

“Good,” said Luke. “Cos I was plannin’ on kissing you again, but I wasn’t sure if we were on the same page, or––“

You tugged him in and leaned forward to press your lips on his again. You felt him smile against the kiss, and you had to smile, too. Luke’s opposite hand met your other cheek as the kiss deepened. You didn’t mind it–– you had no reason to mind it. In fact, you loved it. You craved it. It was warm and soft, and it made your toes curl. His lips felt like velvet. The heat crawled up into your chest, but the kiss soon ended before the moment carried on.

You felt lighter than air. Small puffs of air escaped your lips while you tried to laugh. And Luke was laughing, too. You were each other’s best friend, and you had kissed.

“Wanna keep driving?” Luke asked you, tracing your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

You grinned and nodded before pecking his lips. And then you skipped over to the passenger seat to once again fill the night with new memories to be made.

-

Luke grabbed your hand and laced your fingers with his while The Summer Set continued to blast throughout his car. It felt good to touch you, to finally feel you after all of these years. For some reason, he craved your touch even more now. It had only been a week, yet Luke quickly realized the effect you had on him. It had never been like this before, and he was relieved to know you felt the same way, too. He couldn’t get enough of you.

He wanted every piece of you.

“Should we head back home?” you asked at around two in the morning, lips red from the 7-Eleven slushie you were slurping.

Luke smiled at your appearance. His heart swelled at the sight of you so comfortable in his company. It made him want to hold you and never let go. “You gettin’ tired, babe?”

You giggled. “Never said that.”

Luke’s face physically ached from the weight of his grin.

“I like it when you call me that,” you said.

“Hm?”

“When you call me ‘babe’,” you spoke. “I like it.”

Luke felt a chill rush over him. He wanted to call you “babe” every single fucking day–– he never wanted to stop. “Yeah, babe?”

You hummed.

Luke’s hand instinctively reached out to place itself on your thigh, and he froze. But you didn’t react. When he looked over, your smile hadn’t left.

“Is this okay?” he asked you, fingers burning and shifting against your leggings. His eyes left the road for a split second to watch you nod. Luke smiled again and squeezed your thigh, emitting a quick squeal from you. The sound was music to his ears, and he couldn’t believe how fast he had fallen for everything about you.

The silence that fell over was comfortable.

“Is this what Brian felt like when he wrote Passenger Seat?” you asked after a while.

Luke glanced at you, smile still wide as he slowly replied, “it’s exactly what he felt.”

He took you down to a small beach off of the beaten path after that. The waves were loud, almost violent as he kept his hand firmly locked with yours. The breeze had picked up, but he could still hear your teeth chattering through the gusts.

“Gosh, sure is nice to have a jacket to keep me warm right now,” said Luke while he set himself down into the sand.

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you muttered, plopping right beside him. “You’re such a fucking j-jackass.”

Luke laughed and took off his jacket, nevertheless. You pulled it over you before falling against him, head nestling onto his shoulder as you brought your knees up for warmth.

“It’s so dark,” you said a few moments later. “Did you come here to murder me?”

“How’d you know?” gasped Luke.

You shoved him away, he only tugged you in closer. You set your head on his lap, and the two of you sat there for thirty minutes in complete silence. He hadn’t wanted to stay quiet–– he had so many things bouncing about in his brain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say a single word. He couldn’t tell you that this week had been the best week of his entire life, and he couldn’t beg you to stay. He couldn’t keep you in a city you hated to be in.

It had hurt to hear you say that, but he didn’t disagree. Los Angeles didn’t fit you; it never would, no matter how much he wanted you to stay with him. You belonged in comforting towns, ones filled with life and love but held hopes and dreams high. You belonged with him, yet he wasn’t sure where he belonged either. It was too painful to think about.

So, Luke kissed your forehead and ran his fingers along your arm. If he could hold you forever, then he wouldn’t have to think about anything else. He wouldn’t have to think about saying goodbye to you within the next week. He wouldn’t have to think about losing all of the built-up feelings that had surfaced within the past few days. He wouldn’t have to think about losing you.

You were curled up in the passenger seat of his car on the ride home. Your eyes had succumbed to exhaustion at the beach, and he carried you all the way back without stirring you awake. It filled his heart with so much love to see you so calm and peaceful–– he wanted to take you home and hold you for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t do that. He buckled you in, kissed your forehead once more, and then drove home in silence. It left him alone with his thoughts, and he didn’t like that.

“Lu?” Your eyes fluttered open as he unbuckled you and prepared to take you into his home.

“Mornin’, darling,” he said, cracking a smile.

You hummed. “You don’t have t’carry me,” you said, “but thank you.” You rubbed at your tired eyes, and he grabbed your hands to help lift you out of the car. You fell against him and pulled him into a tight hug.

He chuckled, but he didn’t say anything. He just held you close.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you mumbled into his shirt. You leaned back to look up at him.

Luke smiled, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world. He kissed you softly before pulling you back into a hug. “I’ve missed you, too.”

-

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

On my way home.

Still okay with going to the party?

You:

ya i wanna black out and vomit in a pool

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

Please do not do that.

You:

don’t poop on my party

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

It’s technically not your party

You:

party pooper

stinky pooper

ur stinky

lukey “red lobster isn’t that bad” hemmings:

You’re stinky.

You:

yes

-

The next day was weird.

It felt like the night prior had been some drug-induced dream filled with romcom storylines inside a coming-of-age film. It was an old memory resurfaced–– a moment you had shared with him many years prior. Things changed so suddenly.

And neither of you spoke of it. You didn’t know how to. At the same time, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

It had been beautiful in the moment, but thinking back, you weren’t sure it had been a good idea. Luke was Luke, a famous rock star living among the elites in Lost Angeles, and you were a shell of a best friend, old remnants of a life he used to live. You weren’t the one for him, and you never had been. He had too many choices before him; he wouldn’t choose his best friend.

A friend was hosting a birthday party, one you assumed would involve a cake and stupid decorations, perhaps presents as well. But the house was packed upon arrival, and it felt more like a frat party than anything. You wished you had known, yet you fisted the skirt of your black dress and ambled in behind Luke, feeling more like a lost puppy than ever.

Because he had always been a people person. He had always loved people.

You lost him at some point in the night. You scoured the premises, searching for his bright red button-down amongst the sea of illustrious eyes. And then there was you, looking sad and somewhat angry while you searched for your best friend. He had done this only a week ago. He had left you to fend for yourself against a pack of B-list wolves. You hardly felt human in comparison.

Sweat had accumulated against your back while you wandered the crowded rooms. You admired the architecture through a Mike’s Hard haze, wishing you had left town when Luke did to maybe make a name for yourself in and amongst the wealthy. The guilt would have eaten you alive; it would have been all at Luke’s expense.

You found him in the kitchen at one point during the night. He stood there with his friends crowded around, a dazzling yet drunken smile etched on his features, and it seemed as though his eyes alone lit the whole room. The knot building in your stomach was uncomfortable. His laugh echoed, and you had to excuse yourself before he could glance your way.

So, you wandered again and retraced your steps, wondering if you would ever know your place in a world this big. It felt like you never would.

You hadn’t gotten black-out drunk, nor did you vomit in a stranger’s pool. Instead, you sat by that pool with your feet plunged into the illuminated water, fingers still cradling the neck of your lemonade while you listened to strangers talk. The bright blue below made you feel sick, so you stared up at the light-polluted sky and hoped for the night to be over soon.

And then there was a tap on your shoulder.

“Jesus Christ–– thought I lost ya for good,” said Luke, voice hoarse and slurred while he slumped down onto the brick beside you. He stuck his feet in the water without rolling up his pants.

“Nope,” you mumbled. “Been here.”

Luke was smiley, and the freckles on his nose seemed more prominent under the teal hue from the pool.

“Where’d you go?” you asked him, yet your heart ached at the thought of him leaving you the way he did. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Uh, y’know.” Luke shrugged. “This, there, n’ that.”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” said Luke, fingers running along the surface of the water before gently splashing your knees. “Wanted t’show my girl around. People kept asking ‘bout you.”

“Your–– your girl?” The words rattled around in your brain, but at the moment, they didn’t settle quite right. They would have sounded wonderful the night prior. But you weren’t property. You weren’t his girl.

Luke glanced at you, eyes shiny and dark, and his lips tugged into a lazy smile. He smelled of whiskey sour and bourbon, a combination that made your stomach churn. You admitted his proximity intimidated you, and you admitted that you wanted nothing more than to go back to last night.

Suddenly, Luke was leaning in to kiss you, and all you could do was push him back. It had been sloppy and wet. It had been wrong.

You couldn’t speak.

“Sorry?” he asked. His eyebrows scrunched together.

You stood quickly, reaching down to fix your dress before you walked off. Luke was hot on your tail.

“I thought you were cool with that!” he exclaimed as he stomped through the grass behind you. A few strangers turned their heads, so you faced him and kept him close. “Did last night mean anything to you?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “Last night meant everything to me. But last night means nothing now. It has to mean nothing now.”

Luke laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Us, Luke,” you said, holding out your arms. “We’ve been best friends for like, ten years, and suddenly that changes in one night. Maybe if we were on similar paths, it would actually work. But it doesn’t work, Luke. It just doesn’t. Not for us.”

His face relaxed, and his lips pulled into a frown. “Not for us?” he whispered. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re you,” you said, “and I’m me. We live on two different parts of the world, and we still don’t know where we belong. It’s not the right time–– if there’s even a right time at all.” You hugged your bare arms as a light breeze blew over.

“Who fucking cares?”

“I care,” you replied.

Luke let out an exasperated sigh. “Fucking hell,” he mumbled, laughing lightly. “Why do you have t’care? Just say fuck it. Do what you fuckin’ want.”

“No, Luke, I can’t just do that––“

“God, you’re being so annoying.”

You blinked. “I’m–– what?”

Luke blanched and swallowed. “Nothing.”

“I’m being so annoying?” you asked with a smirk. “Oh, wow. Okay. Sorry. I guess I’ll stop being so annoying then.”

“No,” said Luke. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You can’t take it back.”

“Please.” His eyes widened, and his sincerity radiated off of him. “I didn’t––“

“What did you mean?”

“What?”

You sighed. Your stomach hurt, and you wanted to just go home. “If you didn’t mean it, then what did you mean?”

Luke shrugged. “Just think you’re being kinda unreasonable.”

“What?” you questioned. “Because I don’t like it here?”

“Because you’re not open to trying!” yelled Luke.

His raised voice made your heart stop. It made every built-up emotion ache to release in an instant. But you wouldn’t let yourself cry. “I want to try,” you said weakly. “I wanna try so badly. But I wanna be happy, Lu.”

He folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m happy with you,” you continued. “But I’m not gonna be happy here. As much as I like being with you, it’s not gonna cancel any of that out.”

Luke didn’t reply. He stared at you, eyes glazed and emotionless.

“I’m gonna go home,” you said.

“Okay.”

You nodded. “I mean, home home.”

Luke’s eyes filled with another unreadable emotion. “Why?”

You sighed again, but this time, you felt annoyed as well. You felt like every feeling from the night prior had dripped from your shoulders. You felt like it had all gone down the drain. “I don’t belong here,” you said.

“Yes, you fucking do!”

“I’m going home,” you repeated, this time harsher as your eyes brimmed with tears.

Luke’s composure fell. There was silence for a moment, and then he nodded. He nodded twice. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Okay.”

-

Luke had been peeling the skin from around his nails.

The two days following the party had been spent in heavy tension. It took every ounce of him to not bring it up–– he wanted to talk about everything he had said, yet the more time that passed, the more he forgot. But he remembered every change in your expression, and his stomach churned at the thought of him upsetting you the way he did. He wanted to take it all back.

You didn’t mention it either. You packed up your belongings quietly, and he didn’t bother you. He didn’t bother exhausting you over words that meant little in the grand scheme of things. Because as much as he wanted you to stay, he knew that you had no choice. In a perfect world, he could drop everything for you. In a perfect world, he could settle down and be with you for the rest of his life. Nobody made decisions in the span of a week, but he wished he could.

He saw you. He didn’t want to see anyone else.

Luke drank his coffee cold on your last day. It stained his white shirt, yet he kept his feet planted against the tiles in his kitchen. He didn’t go change because you were back in the guest room, and he knew that his chest would hurt the sight of you. He knew he would try to say things to make you stay. He knew that they would fail.

He heard the wheels of your suitcase before he saw you. And then you were there, jean jacket draped over your arm while you waited for him to speak up. Luke didn’t know how to talk anymore. He only felt dejection.

“My flight leaves in four hours,” you said, grip tightening around the handle of your suitcase.

Luke nodded. He wanted to believe you were sad, too. He wanted to believe you still thought about that night only days ago.

“I can call a cab,” you continued with a shrug. A light-hearted shrug that felt out-of-place.

He shook his head. “I’ll take you,” he said, but his voice was weak.

“Okay.”

And the familiar silence clicked back into place. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It hadn’t felt like this before. Leaving you at sixteen was full of smiles and “see-you-soon”’s. But with you leaving now, it felt like you were leaving for good.

Luke nodded again. “Okay.”

The ride to the airport was quiet. It was a sickening quiet, one that brought on the urge to cry and scream. He wanted to yell at himself for being so fucking ridiculous. His fingers tensed against the steering wheel.

When Luke parked the car, the words “I’m sorry” tumbled from his lips.

You glanced over. “What for?”

A part of him wanted to laugh. You knew the exact reasons why he felt sorry.

But he just shrugged. “For throwing you into my life,” he said. “It was selfish of me. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel.”

“You didn’t mean it like that,” you replied. “I know you didn’t. You were just showing me your life.”

“But it was too much.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You gave Luke a small, sad smile before reaching over and grabbing his hand. You intertwined your fingers with his.

“If it’s okay,” you said, “I’d still like to be a part of your life.”

Luke smiled, too. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “It’s always okay.”

-

You felt sick.

You held Luke’s hand on your way into the airport, and you dreaded letting go. You dreaded the idea of possibly never feeling his touch again. You weren’t saying goodbye for good, but it felt like you were.

“Here’s where I leave you,” he mumbled, voice breaking at the last few words, and his grip on your hand loosened.

You refused to let him go. When you turned around, Luke’s façade had chipped. His eyes welled with tears, and soon enough, yours had, too. You pushed yourself against him in a tight embrace, arms meeting around his neck while his wrapped around your waist. The tears slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them.

You wondered why it was so hard. You wondered why it hurt so much.

You held him for as long as you could before losing your balance. Yet, when you pulled away, you didn’t let go of him. You stood on your toes to brush your nose against his.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, clutching the collar of his shirt as you pressed your lips to his through tear slicked cheeks.

Luke held you closer, and this time, he didn’t let you pull away. His lips were warm and wet, but it was perfect. Everything about him was perfect. It hurt so much. You wanted to kiss him forever.

When all air ceased, Luke rested his forehead against yours, and you could feel his own tears falling against your skin. His breath was hot on your lips. And then you pulled him in again, teeth clashing in a hard yet heartbreaking kiss. You didn’t care–– you just needed to feel his lips again.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbled.

Your arms weakened around his shoulders, hands soon resting on his chest as you began to move away. It hurt to smile, but you did it anyway. “Gonna miss you, Squid,” you said, and your eyes watered once more.

Luke sniffed, and as your hand cupped his cheek, he leaned into you. He let out a breath. “Gonna miss you, too,” he said.

Your hand fell back to your side. “Well,” you said, swallowing down the tears that threatened to spill. You shot him another smile. “I’ll let you know when I land.”

He nodded. “Yeah, um––“ He scratched the back of his head. “Thank you.”

So, you nodded, too. “See you soon, String Bean.”

And finally, Luke smiled, too.

You gathered your belongings and slowly made your way to the security line, stomach twisting as your thoughts invaded. You couldn’t shake the negative feelings away. Every glance over your shoulder reminded you that you didn’t want to say goodbye. Every step felt erroneous. You looked back at Luke.

He waved at you, and your chest caved in.

It was wrong. Everything was wrong.

Your eyes scanned the line and the many travelers waiting with their tickets in hand. You looked at the agents who seemed less than pleased to be there that day. And finally, you locked your gaze back on Luke again, and your heart tugged.

It was wrong.

So, you left the line and walked back over to him, and he watched you the entire time.

“I’m sure there’s a later flight,” you sputtered out, heart pounding in your chest while a grin spread on his cheeks. You smiled in return.

“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “I’m sure there is.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck again and kissed him until your head spun. It finally felt so right.

[98prilla]

Abductions, Past and Present

TSS alien/space au, cause why not? WARNIG this one is really angsty and a lot darker than some of my other stuff, so pay attention to the tags, and stay safe!

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AO3

...

He doesn’t want to be here. 

He doesn’t know where “here” is, exactly, but that hardly matters, anymore.

 What he wants hasn’t mattered in a long, long time.

 Still, he could take it, he did take it, he didn’t really have a choice, of course, but he’d learned long ago that fighting only made everything worse.

 He would have kept fighting them, regardless, but one time they got it into their heads that a good punishment would be separating them. He’d been alone for three days, terrified out of his mind, pacing, waiting, anxiety clawing at his chest, barely able to breathe, much less function.

 And when they did bring him back, he was a shaking, sweating, bruised and bloodied mess. They were both used to the injuries from the experiments, or the testing, but this was something else, this was torture, and it had been his fault, it had been to teach him a lesson, and he had never been so scared that his brother was going to be actually taken from him then that time, it had taken a week of careful tending and his sloppy, half knowledge of first aid before his brother had opened his eyes, and the first thing the half dead idiot did was smile up at him, and he’d lost it.

 He hadn’t fought back, since then. He’d been docile as a lamb, he didn’t so much as scream anymore, didn’t let a single sob escape his lips when he was strapped to the table, for fear that they would separate them again, and it was selfish of him, but it was only half because he was worried for Roman. He was more worried for himself, what he would become if he didn’t have his brother to keep him sane.

 He knew they were testing him, after that. He knew, because it got worse for him, but easier for Roman, and that’s what mattered, he was fine with that. If they were focused on him, all the better.

 They wanted to see how far they could push him, before he snapped. How far would he go, before he gave in, made a noise, fought back, disrespected them, gave them any excuse to punish him? The answer was simple. Never. Never, if it kept Roman safe.

 Oh, it hurt like hell. Sometimes he was aware, sometimes he wasn’t. Sometimes they injected things into him, things made his skin burn until he wanted to peel it off himself, sometimes things that choked his breathing, felt like ice shards stabbing into his lungs, sometimes things that made everything go hazy and warped and reality break around him, until he was feverish and unsure where he even was anymore. Sometimes they poked, prodded, slashed, burned, stabbed, branded, broke bones, dislocated limbs, he wasn’t entirely sure what else. Just anything and everything to test his resilience, his resistance to pain, his stubbornness.

 He knew it was something to do with measuring human’s durability, their resistance to different chemical mixtures and resilience in healing, knew that some days after he was exhausted from shaking, from biting his tongue so hard it bled instead of letting a single whimper slip past his lips they took blood, plasma, they measured the methodical cuts of varying deepness they had etched into different parts of his body, typing away on their tablets any progress or delays.

 The worst was when they purposefully let wounds get infected, let them fester and rot, veins turning purple, skin turning black, until he could feel the infection creeping through his blood, fever and chills sweeping through him so hard Roman had to hold him still or he’d hurt himself seizuring. Those were the times he was almost sure he was going to die, and he’d smile at Roman, because if he really was going out, the last goddamn thing his brother was going to see of him was his smile.  

 But that doesn’t matter anymore.

 Despite everything, despite all he’d done, despite his best efforts, it doesn’t matter. Existence is futile at this point, everything is.  

The beings that had brought him here had been gentle. Nice, almost, if he believed anyone could be nice anymore. They’d brought him to this room, with gentle reassurances that everything would be fine, and then left.

 It is bare, but almost anything is an improvement over his previous lodgings. That had been a cold, dark, cell. Solid metal walls and floors, they hadn’t even bothered to keep them on a light/dark cycle, a dirty pile of hay as a bed, a slot for their meager rations, nearly all of which he gave to Roman instead, no matter how much he protested. Here there’s an actual bed, carpeted floors, soft, not too bright radiant lighting that must be somewhat UV, because he hasn’t felt warmth like this in years.

 He hadn’t even noticed the light dimming, but he realizes suddenly it’s dark. Not completely, not pitch black like the cell, he can still see the outline of the room, of everything, clearly, though it doesn’t stop his breath from hitching.

 He’s in the corner, curled tight into a ball, hands tangled in his hair, so no one can sneak up on him from any direction. He hasn’t moved from this spot since he was put in here, two, maybe three, days ago? He doesn’t quite know. He knows he hasn’t eaten anything, though they bring him three meals a day. They’ve progressively  been getting more elaborate, more enticing, he knows they’re trying to get him to eat, to drink, something, anything, and he knows he should, but what’s the point? The smell just makes him sick, the thought of eating any of it nearly makes him choke.

 He knows they’ve been talking to him, too, though he’s so hazy and half out of his mind he doesn’t really remember what they’ve been saying. He knows there’s at least three of them. One, soft spoken and kind, that gives off an aura of safety, of home, almost human, except for the large, fluffy blue speckled wings on his back. The third is some kind of Naga, face scaled and eyes slitted, hands ending in sharp claws, lingering on the s’s when he pronounces them. The final member is a human, which should set him at ease, but only scares him more, for some reason, because if they can brainwash a human, what chance does he stand? He’s never been smart, only good for the physical tests, he always failed the mental challenges set before him, every puzzle and game and riddle, until they even gave up on punishing him for it.

 Every time someone enters, he pulls back, huddling tighter into his corner, no matter how far away they stay, he hisses and spits and growls, letting them think he’s gone mad, gone feral, and maybe he has, maybe he really, truly has, but he doesn’t care because every time he sees one of them, hears the door, his stomach twists with the most agonizing, crushing hope, because part of him believes one of these times it will be Roman, but it will never, never be Roman.

…

He’s in the cell. He’s pacing, endlessly pacing, because for the first time in weeks, they’ve taken Roman from him, and despite his better judgement, he fought back, because he can’t handle Roman getting hurt, he won’t let them take him, because he has a terrible sense that if they take him again, he won’t ever see him once more.

 But he failed, he failed miserably, and Roman is gone.

 He lurches towards the door at the sound of noise, the sound of alarms and shouts, He’s never heard that before, which scares him, new is never good, new means a new test, one he doesn’t know the rules of, one he can’t win.

 The door flies open, and he barely catches Roman as he’s flung into the room, the door slamming shut, and it takes his eyes a moment to readjust. When he does, he gasps.

 Roman is soaked in blood. So much blood, it’s never been this bad before, something must have gone wrong, there’s a deep, jagged cut across his abdomen, that’s where the blood is coming from, and desperately, he presses down on it, wincing at Roman’s hoarse scream of pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, trying to ignore the red that seeps out between his fingers, he’s losing too much, too much, they must have hit an artery, or… or something, if he wasn’t so stupid he would know what to do, so his brother would stop dying in his arms.

 “R… rem…” His eyes lock on Roman’s, hazy with pain and glazed with confusion, but open and aware, and Roman cradles him close, helping support him, as he coughs, blood dribbling out of his mouth, bloodying his gums, staining his teeth.

 “Shh, shh, it’ll be ok, RoRo, I’m gonna-“ His voice splinters, and he heaves in a breath, “gonna patch you right up, just like always, yeah? Sound good?” He pleads more than asks, running his hands through Roman’s hair, keeping one hand pressed tight to his wound, forcing a smile to his face through the desperate tears.

 “d…don’t think y-y-you can.” Roman stutters, a frightening gurgling coming from his lungs as he heaves again, coughing up blood, and he realizes he’s screaming, as Roman’s eyes close, as his head lolls, his body goes limp against his, his breathing stopping, and he screams louder, harder, until it shatters his own eardrums, until he isn’t even sure he’s still screaming, until nothing else in the world has ever existed or mattered except this, this moment of unbearable loss.

  Then the door opens, and someone is speaking, and someone is pulling him away, disentangling Roman from his arms, and he’s still screaming, but his voice has long since given out, and he fights, he thrashes, he growls and claws and bites and snaps, at everyone, anyone, within reach, because they’re taking him, they can’t take him, they can’t have him, he won’t let them, he WON’T!

 Then cool, soft calm radiates through him, stilling him instantly as he goes complacent. His memories are fuzzy after that, he remembers flashes of a ship, flashes of conversation, of apologies from the winged one, then the room.

…

He doesn’t look up at the door opening. He hasn’t even checked if it’s locked, honestly. Hasn’t looked for any way of escape, it doesn’t mean anything, now.

 “hey kiddo.” He flinches, though the voice is soft and gentle, nothing but warm and kind, so hard his head cracks against the wall. He realizes his world is spinning, tears are dripping down his face, he’s hyperventilating. That must be why they sent Feathers, as he’s nick named him in his mind, because he was panicking again. “I need you to breathe, ok? In and out.” He does, he doesn’t know why he does, but he does, copying Feathers’ pattern until his heaving comes to a slow stop. He doesn’t otherwise acknowledge the being, doesn’t look up or speak or do anything other than curl tighter as he feels the being move closer.

 “easy, bud. You know, you’d feel better if you ate something. Or at least drank something. You can’t go this long without water.”

 And you can? He wants to bite out, but he doesn’t, he doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t react. He hears the person sigh.

 “I don’t want to, but I know you’re hurting yourself. I won’t let you give up like this kiddo, I don’t want to use my abilities, but you’re not giving me much of a choice.” He laughs, bitter, dark, angry, teeth bared and eyes flaming with raging hurt. He’s a bit satisfied to see Feathers stumble back, eyes wide.

 “Go the fuck ahead. It won’t change anything. Go ahead and prolong my suffering. Go ahead and do whatever the hell you want to me. Go ahead and use me and break me and pretend to give a shit, I couldn’t care less what you do at this point, I may as well be already dead. I may as well kill myself.” He barely sees Feathers anymore, eyes wild, all the thoughts that have been silent the past few days because of his grief overwhelming him all at once. “I could bash my head against the wall until it split open and my brains fell out of my skull. I could tie the bedsheets together into a noose, I could waterboard myself with them, too, I could claw open my wrists with my nails, oh, or I could claw my chest open and rip out my own heart, crush it my fist. Do I even have one anymore? I don’t think I do. If I do, it’s not beating, that’s for sure, it’s dead and cold and hard as a stone, it doesn’t mean anything anymore, nothing means anything anymore.” He pauses, cocking his head. “Could you kill me? Could you convince my brain to turn off? Convince my blood to stop pumping? Could you make my instincts shut off so I could smother myself with a pillow, or drown myself in a puddle, or slit my own throat with my nails?”

 “kiddo…” He laughs again, heedless of the tears streaming down his face.

 “It’s nothing worse than they’ve already done to me, nothing worse than I let them do to me, there’s nothing worse that could possibly happen, I lose him, I lost him, and it’s my fault, and he’s gone, he’s gone, and it’s my fault, and I couldn’t stop the bleeding and I just, I can’t, I need…” He’s hyperventilating again, and he lets out a choked scream of rage, lunging to his feet. For a moment he sees fear in Feathers’ eyes, but he doesn’t care, he smashes his fist against the wall, screaming, and it feels good, so he does it again, and again, and again, until he knows bones have broken, but he doesn’t care, because the pain is a fraction of what he feels inside, a fraction of what he deserves, and then that peace is slipping back over him and he falls to his knees, vision swimming before going black. “roman… ro… please…” he whimpers, letting the dark sweep him away, praying he never wakes up.

…

“Patton!” Virgil races into the room, having fled the monitor room as soon as the human lunged to his feet, skidding to a stop at the sight that greets him.

 He is sitting on the floor, the unconscious human cradled in his arms, wings wrapped tight in what Virgil knows to be a soft cocoon of warmth.  

 “we made a mistake, Virg.”

 “That’s what you’re worried about!? I thought he was going to kill you, or kill himself, or both!” Patton shakes his head as the human whimpers in his arms.

 “We need to put them together. They need each other.”

 “He’s right. I’m not usually one for the whole touchy feely thing, but even I can feel the despair radiating off him.” Janus adds, making Virgil jump and scowl at Janus's smirk.

 “Maybe we should wait for Logan.” Virgil responds doubtfully, but Patton shakes his head vehemently.

 “no. Now, we can’t wait.”

 …

 He wakes up slowly, and not at all, at first. It’s like swimming through molasses, probably because he can’t even remember the last time he slept, and his body is trying to take advantage. Then again, what does he have to wake up for?

 But there’s something. A soft voice, an arm around him, a familiar, comforting scent, and his eyes snap open, fear and hope and aching, overwhelming need forcing him awake, forcing him to see, cause if it isn’t true, he will die.

 Amber eyes, pale skin, strong cheek bones, pale and face a bit flushed, but awake, and holding him, and he can’t help but let out a pent up, anguished sob, burying against him with all his might, barely heedful of the wound he knows is there, but there’s no blood, somehow, and Roman is here and alive and, this can’t be overstated, Roman is alive.

 “please… please don’t… I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have fought, I should have fought harder, I thought you died because of me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I…” He can’t speak anymore, through the tremors wracking his body, the relief flooding through him heady and dizzying and his mind is shorting out and he’s crying ugly, sobbing, snotty, tears, but he can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop. “I let them take you away, I thought they took you away, they took you.”

 “Remus, Remus, Remus, I know, I know, it’s not your fault, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here, I’m here, and you’re here and we’re safe now.” He clings to his brother harder, almost sick from the level of heightened emotion he’s feeling, every breath like a dagger being ripped out of his chest, and he swears he can feel his heart start beating again, time start ticking once more.  

 “don’t go. Don’t… don’t go, don’t leave, please, please, don’t leave me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t go, I can’t… I can’t if you go. Please stay.” He begs, fists curling tighter around the fabric of Roman’s soft shirt, shifting so he’s eye to eye with his brother, unable to stop searching his face, every inch of his face, for any sign this is just another fever dream.”

 “I’m not, I’m not going anywhere. I promise, Rem, I absolutely promise.” Roman yawns hugely and he smirks, letting his hand card through Roman’s hair, slipping behind him so Roman is laying against his chest, nearly atop him, wrapping his arm around Roman’s middle, resting it over his heart, to feel the steady pulsing beat. He nestles his head in the crook of Roman’s shoulder, gently rocking his brother slightly, feeling him let out another long yawn.

 “Go to sleep, brobro. I’ll be ok. As long as you’re ok, I’ll be ok. And I’m not going anywhere, either. Never, never, never. I swear.” He whispers, feeling Roman smile, the action bringing more tears to his eye, because his smile lights up his entire world, it’s all he ever strives for, another smile, another laugh, another second warm and safe and happy with his baby brother in his arms.

 He freezes as the door to the room opens, unconsciously holding Roman tighter in his arms, uncomfortably reminded of his brother being ripped from him, of when the cell door would slide open and figures in masks would come for him, and he hisses, baring his teeth, staring daggers at the tall, too slim figure with crystalline skin.

 “Greetings-" before the being can get another word out, he has lunged to his feet, slammed him against the wall, growl a low rumble in his chest, because memories are washing over him, and he suddenly hates this being with all of his might.

 “You.” He hisses, hand against the being’s throat, pinning him to the wall. “You pulled him away from me.”

 “I did. I needed space to work in order to have a chance at saving him.” The being’s luminous silver eyes meet his evenly and emotionlessly, betraying not a hint of fear at the snarling human two seconds away from killing him.

 “You kept us apart.”

 “For healing purposes, yes, I-“

 “YOU HAD ME BELIEVE HE DIED!” He screams, and finally, something like guilt or remorse flickers through those eyes, though it does nothing to dampen his rage. “He is the last fucking thing I have in this hell hole of a world, and you had me convinced he was dead and it was as good as my fault.” He growls, low and dark, and he thinks he does have enough rage in him, to kill this person, to end him, because how could he do something like that, how could he say that?

 “That… was a miscalculation on my part. At first we weren’t sure he was going to make it, so it wasn’t much of a lie, and I didn’t want to bring you two into contact with one another without first knowing the nature of your relationship. I did not want to risk the possibility that you were the one responsible for his state.” He lets out a harsh half laugh half sob, pressing harder against the being’s throat, enough that he can see him struggling to get in a full breath of air.

 “I was holding him in my arms. I was sobbing, I was screaming, I was mourning, I was breaking, I didn’t think I could get anymore broken, but somehow you managed to prove me wrong. That? That was crueler than anything that ever happened to us back there, I can tell you that much, and from the bottom of my soul, I will never, never forgive you for it.” He swears, about to step back, but suddenly the door slams open and the world shifts around him.

[keeptheslnc]

WRW ‘19 Day 3: Breathless

“Weiss! I’m back!” Ruby called out, closing their door and tossing her keys into a bowl. “I have snacks!”

The sound of a cabinet closing told Ruby where to go as she skipped down the hall, poking her head through the entryway of their kitchen. Weiss was just finishing putting away plates and glasses, turning around to face Ruby once she was done.

“How was your middle school reunion?” she asked as Ruby came in and placed a bag on the counter. Ruby skirted around to place a kiss to Weiss’ lips which she happily sighed into.

“Tons of fun! It was nice seeing everyone from Patch after all this time,” Ruby responded after separating. She took her phone out to show Weiss some photos, letting her girlfriend scroll through at her own pace. “A lot of them actually moved out of the area and have been running their own businesses or starting families or just traveling. Can you believe that they thought I was lying when I said I was dating you?”

Weiss snickered as she imagined the looks of disbelief on Ruby’s old classmates’ faces. “It must’ve been very satisfying when you proved them wrong.”

“You’re dang right it was! I showed them a picture of us when we were visiting with Blake in Menagerie and they wouldn’t stop pestering me about you after that!” Ruby’s mind wandered back to the summer of last year when they spent a week on the tropical island. Weiss and heat did not pair well together, so she was always overheating and required many ice treats throughout their stay. She also wore skin-revealing clothing for the majority of their outdoor activities. Ruby hadn’t complained one bit about that.

Weiss broke her trip down memory lane by poking around the plastic bag she’d plopped between them. “You said you brought snacks?”

“Oh! Yeah! One of my friends is a baker and she brought a few things to share,” Ruby explained excitedly, pulling out some takeout boxes. “I didn’t have a chance to taste them yet. I was in a rush and sort of shoved them all into these. We should visit her in Vale next time!”

Ruby opened all the boxes and each had small portions of pastries, pies, and cakes crammed together. Weiss couldn’t really tell what was what, so she had to trust Ruby’s guidance as her girlfriend reached out for a fork, which Weiss easily handed to her. If only her cake butler were around to help.

“Are you really going to try them all now? It’s nearly eleven at night,” Weiss pointed out. She leaned an elbow on the counter, her chin resting in her palm, as she watched Ruby’s eyes dart between pastries and pies. “You’re already so full of sugar, anyway.”

“How else do you think I’m so sweet?” Ruby teased with her tongue sticking out. “It’s what charmed you in the first place.”

“I’ll think of a comeback to that later,” Weiss said with a roll of her eyes and a small smile. She then flicked Ruby’s forehead. “Don’t have too much. I won’t be able to sleep if you’re just vibrating from all the energy.”

The brunette wasn’t hurt in the slightest by the attack and just stuck her fork into the first chocolate-like item she saw. Once in her mouth, she instantly gushed about how delicious it was. “Are you sure you don’t want any?” she asked as she took a chunk of a pie. Ruby held it out in front of Weiss’ face, carefully waving the treat up and down.

Weiss was prepared to decline, but the puppy-dog eyes that Ruby was blinking at her almost instantly broke her will. Her grinning girlfriend knew all of her weaknesses and her silver eyes was one of them. She sighed in defeat. “After all this time, I’m still unable to not follow your ridiculous plans.”

“They always work, that’s why!” Ruby said triumphantly. She let Weiss take the bite off of her fork before going back for the rest of the pie. It took a few chews to recognize the taste of apple. “I wonder if she has anything seasonal at her shop right now. It’s almost fall!”

“Yes, everything will be pumpkin-flavored, I’m sure,” Weiss responded before clearing her throat, suddenly finding it itchy. She absentmindedly started to scratch the side of her neck. “Well, as soon as you’re done sampling, make sure you put them away properly. The last thing I’d want to wake up to is mice running on the counters. Again.”

Ruby chuckled sheepishly. She nodded as she bit into a cookie next. “You got it!”

Weiss smiled before walking around the counter to Ruby’s side, brushing some stray crumbs from around her mouth before kissing her. “Then I’m getting ready for bed. See you upstairs soon, I hope.”

Ruby watched with a dopey grin as Weiss walked out the kitchen and towards the stairs. She had only a couple more pastry pieces before she made true to her promise of packing up the boxes and then stacking them in the fridge for tomorrow. A few minutes later, as she was turning off the kitchen light, she heard a thud from upstairs.

“Weiss? What was that?” Ruby called out, nervousness settling in her stomach. “Are you ok?” When she didn’t hear an immediate response, she bolted up the stairs and into their bedroom, finding Weiss collapsed on her side on the floor. Her hair splayed out like spilled moonlight with a complexion to match as she weakly reached out for Ruby.

“Weiss!”

Ruby practically teleported to her girlfriend’s side, cradling her in her lap as she tried to stay calm. Weiss was heaving for breath, each one clipped and short, coming out in painful-sounding wheezes. Her eyes were open wide in fear as she focused on Ruby hovering above her with an equally-as-scared expression.

“W-Weiss, what’s happening? W-W-What do I--?” Ruby was nearly in tears at seeing her suffer. She was panicking.

Weiss lifted a shaky hand to her own throat, trying to tell Ruby what was wrong. A breathless word came from her mouth and she choked.

In an instant, Ruby knew what was wrong and how it happened.

Apples.

Weiss was allergic to apples. How could Ruby forget? A wave of intense guilt washed over her for not checking what kind of pastries she’d brought home. Even a small amount of the fruit would be enough to send Weiss into a state of shock and Ruby was the one who gave it to her.

Another choking gasp from her lap brought Ruby out of her self-scolding as she remembered what to do. Gently lying Weiss down on the floor as quickly as she could, she jumped over to their nightstand and tugged open the drawer. Thankfully, Weiss was a very organized person and Ruby found exactly what she needed in less than a second: an epinephrine injection.

Flying back to Weiss’ side, Ruby readied the pen, pulling the top cap off and falling to her knees, one on each side of Weiss’ legs. She grasped the pen firmly in her hand and, without hesitation, stabbed it into Weiss’ thigh. If her girlfriend felt the needle, then she didn’t show it, which relieved Ruby by a fraction as she counted to three in her head. She removed the pen and then tossed it to the side with one hand while the other gently massaged the area she just stabbed.

Weiss let out a feeble breath, but it was considerably much easier than a few seconds ago. She closed her eyes as she tried to relax a little bit, focusing first on her breathing. She hadn’t had an attack like that in years. Now she had to remember to get a replacement pen, just in case. She felt a timid hand brush some hair from her face and she reopened her eyes to Ruby’s full of tears.

“Ruby…”

Weiss’ voice was barely above a whisper, but the brunette heard it loud and clear. Ruby let out a sob as she brought Weiss back into her lap, holding her close. She buried her face into Weiss’ neck, feeling her pulse barely start to return to normal.

“I’m sorry…” she apologized with a hiccup. “I didn’t think -- I forgot and I -- I’m so sorry, Weiss…”

“Ruby...it wasn’t your fault,” Weiss responded, still trying to catch her breath, but feeling better. She managed to bring a hand up to cradle the back of Ruby’s head, gently stroking her hair. “You saved me, technically speaking.” She pressed a kiss to Ruby’s cheek to placate her. “I’ll be fine...but I still need to go to the hospital.”

The younger girl gave a sniffle before rubbing the tears away from her eyes. “R-Right, yeah, I’ll call an ambulance. Weiss, I’m --”

“You can apologize to me later,” Weiss chided her, suddenly feeling the fatigue from this ordeal. She let out a careful sigh. “Just...make sure I’m still breathing.”

“Don’t make jokes right now!” Ruby whimpered, her finger hovering just over her phone’s ‘call’ button. 

Weiss gave the barest of smirks. She made sure she had Ruby’s attention before she called for an ambulance. If she were to die from making this joke, then it was worth it. Maybe.

“Remember earlier...when I said I’d think of a comeback? Well… Ruby Rose, you leave me breathless.”

==========

This came about from my headcanon that Weiss is actually very allergic to apples. Considering she’s based on Snow White, I thought it matched pretty appropriately if it put her in a life-or-death situation. I also had to research allergic reactions and how EpiPens work, so that was cool. I hope it’s accurate!

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy Pt.6

Just over 5,000 wordy words. I decided to split this chapter in two because it would be unwieldy otherwise. No smut (!) in this chapter. Thor and the reader get ready to go out for dinner. Contains more discussion on clothing than was probably necessary. And a smidge of Asgardian politics. OH WELL.

Come mid-afternoon, you’d managed to complete your tasks, which was easier said than done when Thor tried to nuzzle up to you every time you were even vaguely still. You went back to his bedroom and changed into your clothes, turning your knickers inside out.

“Is it ok if I go back to mine and change my clothes?” you said as you walked back into the sitting room.

“Of course. Perhaps I could go with you?” he suggested. It had been a while since he’d ventured out further than his garden but he wanted to spend more time with you. You nodded and waited for him to get dressed. He shuffled out in his oversized hoodie and slipped on his Crocs.

“Ready?” you asked.

“Indeed I am.”

He took your hand as you walked back to your hut. He hoped you’d find it romantic but he was mostly holding onto you because he was scared. It had been so long since he’d been around ordinary Asgardians. He didn’t want to disappoint them any more than he already had.

You didn’t pass too many people on your stride of pride but those who did see you tried to hide their shock. You didn’t blame them. It wasn’t exactly hard to piece together the cause of the unusual weather. Coupled with seeing Thor out and about, and holding hands with Midgardian, it was probably the last thing any of them expected to see on a Tuesday afternoon as the sun was starting to go down.

“I won’t take long,” you said as you approached the hut. “Then I can head back and start prepping for dinner.”

“We could just bring all of your stuff to mine, then you wouldn’t have to keep coming back here.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, Thor, but as fun as mixing business and pleasure is, we should try to separate things. It’s hard enough to get any work done as it is.”

“But you wouldn’t have to do any work. I don’t want my girlfriend tidying up after me all of the time.”

“Girlfriend?” you queried, eyebrows arched. Oh Norns, no, Thor thought. He hadn’t meant to scare you off. He blushed deep scarlet and stared at the ground, wishing he could fall through one of Strange’s portals like Loki had all those years ago in New York. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times but no words came out.

“Was that...was that your way of asking me?” you asked, trying to make it less awkward.

“Um...yeah?”

“You’ll have to take me out on a date before I consider agreeing.”

“Um, yes a date. Like dinner?”

“Yes, dinner is good.”

“Dinner tonight?”

“That works for me.”

“Right, yes. Dinner tonight. I will meet you here at eight,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss before almost running back to his cabin. You let yourself into the hut and fell back against the door. Ah fuck.

No. This was not good. Fucking was good but dates and emotional stuff? Dear God, no. You couldn’t go through that again. You needed to talk to someone. You grabbed your laptop and opened Skype. Thank fuck. Sam was online.

“Yo,” you typed.

“Y R U typing? Call me like a normal person,” came the reply. Before you could do anything, the Skype call tune sounded and you grudgingly accepted the call. You knew you looked a mess but not accepting and turning on the camera would make Sam suspicious.

“Jesus Christ, y/n. What happened to your neck? Do they have vampires where you are?” Sam exclaimed, trying not to laugh.

“Hmm, yes very good. Why aren’t you at work?”

“I went to a gig last night, took a day off to recover.”

“You’re getting old. Who’d you see?”

“And you’re deflecting. Belinda Carlisle.”

“She’s still alive?”

“She is now. Anyway, what or who happened to you?”

“Someone.”

“Clearly. You look like you just did the walk of shame.”

“Walk of fame. Or stride of pride. You know me, I own my encounters.”

“Aha, so you did get laid. Nice.”

“Fuck you.”

“You already did. So what’s up? You’ve got a face like a cat’s arse and you won’t give me the gossip.”

“We’re going on a date. Tonight.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“I do...and I don’t. It’s scary and it’s weird and…”

“And you haven’t been on a date since Alex.”

“...no.”

“That’s a stumbling block you need to get past. Or over. Or hell, crawl underneath it. You are wasting years of your life, out of guilt. If it had been the other way round, you wouldn’t want Alex to pine after for you forever, to grow old and die without falling in love again, would you?”

“No…” Sam wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t easy to hear it.

“Give this mystery bitey person a go. It might be great. In terms of your neck, you essentially have two choices. Style it out and show off those bites, or cover them up. With clothing this time.”

“Look, I only put foundation on that one time. It was my first day, I didn’t want to make a bad impression.”

“Yeah, because foundation staining the collar of your shirt was so much better.”

“Any other words of advice or are you just going to dredge up past mistakes?”

“Yeah, wear the bitch boots.”

“No can do, they’re in storage.”

“Well, if you told me where you are I could put them in my luggage and bring them to you, along with a whole bunch of your shit.”

“I prefer to be nomadic for now, but I appreciate the sentiment. I guess I should start figuring out what to wear.”

“Alright, good to see you too. It’s been emotional, as ever.”

The call ended and you burst into tears.

*****

Thor stomped back like he was marching into battle, startling seagulls and people alike. He grabbed his phone a punched in a message to Brunnhilde. He didn’t want to call in case he interrupted important kingly business. Midgardian tech was too fiddly for him, it was embarrassing how long it took to write four letters: HELP.

Now that he had time to think, he was regretting offering to take you out for dinner. He remembered all too painfully his first encounter in a Midgardian dining establishment. Were his manners ok? He knew more about Midgard now but he knew that different places within the realm had different customs. He didn’t want to upset or offend you. But you’d eaten with him before, and that had been fine...but it wasn’t in public. And where did people go for dinner in New Asgard? Was there anywhere? Food always came to him, not the other way round. He knew from the other Avengers that you were supposed to look and smell nice on these occasions but what should he wear? He’d had some great clothes but that was before...he went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, trying to calm down.

He was several beers in by the time Brunnhilde arrived.

“Where’s y/n?” she inquired. “What’s wrong? Do I need to hunt her down?”

Thor wasn’t sure why his friends kept offering to fight you on his behalf. Not that he would, but he was more than capable of fighting you. It was good to know that they had his back, he supposed.

“She went home to change. We’re going out for dinner tonight,” he smiled, despite his nerves.

“Wrong way round there, loverboy, you’re supposed to take her out for dinner before you impale her with your pork sword.”

Thor doesn’t entirely understand what the Valkyrie just said, but he knows it’s rude.

“You’re-you’re not helping,” he replied, grabbing another beer. He’d been much better lately, drinking less.

“Can’t help if I don’t know what the problem is,” Brunnhilde answered, accepting the beer that Thor offered. Seeing that Thor was struggling to articulate himself, the Valkyrie tried to prompt him. “You’re banging a Midgardian. You’ve done that before, so that’s not it. Likewise, this is not the first time you’ve shagged a servant, sorry, employee. You’ve courted people before, right?”

“Ish. Yeah. Sorta. Not for a long time...it was different. I didn’t really have to try.”

“Because you were the pretty prince, so you could have who you wanted, when you wanted them?”

“Ow. That’s not very nice,” Thor said, wincing at the vague memories of various tumbles.

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” Thor shook his head, unable to look her in the eye. “Well, y/n obviously thinks you’re pretty. Or handsome. Whatever. Don’t need to be a scientist like Banner to work that one out. And you’re still a prince, uncoronated king actually-”

“No, you’re king.”

“Yeah, no. I’m regent. And even that is barely tolerated by the people. We’re gonna have to talk about that soon, but not now. Y/N thinks you’re attractive, you’re still royalty, so you’ve got that going for you. God of thunder, Avenger, hero-”

“-hairy fat dude.”

“Technically, yes, but please refer to my first point.” It’s exasperating for the Valkyrie. She wants to help Thor but he still hasn’t told her what the problem is.

“Well, I said we’d go out for dinner but I don’t know where we can go. And I’m worried there’s a whole bunch of MIdagrdian etiquette that I don’t know and I’ll look stupid and I’ll embarrass her. And I don’t know what to wear. And, and, and…” he trailed off.

“Right ok. I’m guessing you’d rather stay in New Asgard?”

Thor nods.

“We have a tavern. A pub. Bar. Drinking establishment. It’s called The Crown,” she explained.

“The Crown? Why’s it called that.”

“The people looked into Midgardian tavern names. ‘The Crown’ signifies loyalty to the monarchy. They thought it was appropriate.”

Thor could feel his shame washing back over him. He’d abandoned his people and all the while they’d named a tavern to show their loyalty to him. He didn’t want to think about what his future chat with Brunnhilde about the leadership of New Asgard would entail. Even if he was forced to be king, he didn’t think there was anything he could do to make up for his years of neglect.

“Anyway, they do food at The Crown. Perhaps you could go there?”

A tavern didn’t seem like the ideal place, he would’ve loved to have taken you somewhere more illustrious, but he didn’t think he was up to leaving New Asgard.

“Asgardian food?” he asked hopefully.

“In a manner of speaking. Some Asgardian foods just aren’t available on Midgard.”

That was a shame but hopefully, he could introduce you to some Asgardian dishes. If, you know, you wanted to try them.

“In terms of Midgardian etiquette, you know as much as I do. I guess if you’re unsure about something, you could ask y/n? Go have a shower, clean your teeth and we’ll figure out what you should wear.”

*****

Having let it all out, you realised you needed to start preparing for your dinner with Thor. He was obviously nervous about asking you and you didn’t want to disappoint him. Looking at your meagre supply of clothing, you realised that none of it was really appropriate for a date. It was all just very practical. Hmm. You’d seen the Asgardians wearing a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar clothing. They couldn’t have taken that much with them when they escaped, which meant there must be a shop or something, right? You decided to investigate New Asgard. If there wasn’t anything, you’d walk to Tønsberg.

It took a little bit of wandering but eventually, you found a street with a few shops. There was one with dresses and fabrics in the window and you cautiously entered. The woman in the shop seemed startled by you, clutching her notepad to her chest.

“Oh my goodness, hello, are you lost?” she asked.

“No? I was hoping that maybe this was a shop that sells clothing?”

“Yes, it is. My apologies...it’s just that I've never had a customer from Midgard before.”

“That’s quite alright. Erm…” you realised at this point that the Valkyrie had never told you which currency they used in New Asgard. “Ah, I realise this is a little awkward but which forms of payment do you accept?”

“Which ones do you have?”

You opened up your purse. You had your bank cards and a wedge of colourful Norwegian krone notes. You didn’t see any evidence of a card machine so you hoped that krone was accepted.

“Mostly just Norwegian krone.” You knew you had some shrapnel from other countries but that hadn’t been worth changing up and would be unlikely to help here.

“Oh yes, Norwegian money is fine,” the woman enthused “but are you sure? I mean it’s not far to Tønsberg.”

“No, no - you have beautiful things in your window. And I’d prefer to find something here, if possible, rather than give my money to one of the fast-fashion chains,” you said, trying to reassure her. The woman nodded.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Well, I’m going out for dinner this evening, so I was hoping to find something appropriate.”

“Oh, is this with the prince...I mean the king?”

Word apparently travels fast, you thought, feeling your cheeks burn. You nodded, looking at the floor. The woman clapped her hands with glee and grabbed a tape measure, practically bounding towards you.

“May I?” she asked. “We do not use dress sizes like your people do...let me take your measurements and then I can work out what I have that might fit.”

You weren’t exactly keen on being measured, putting a number to the different parts of you, but this seemed like a good system. Much better than trying to work out whether a shop’s sizing runs big or small. The woman made a series of notes on her pad.

“Follow me,” she said, leading you into another room. The was an oaken settee topped with plush cushions, as well as several full-length mirrors.

“Please take a seat,” the woman gestured to the chair. “I will return shortly.”

You sat down, fiddling with the ends of your sleeves, beginning to regret this. Would you like the clothing that she recommended? Could you afford it? Would Thor think you were being weird? Maybe you should’ve just gone to H&M.

The woman returned with several garments, hanging them from a series of hooks on the back of the door.

“These are the ones that should fit you, I hope there is something here to your liking. Which would you like to try on first?”

You had no idea. In truth, you had no idea what kind of style would suit you.

“I guess we could work out way along, starting from the left?”

“Of course.” The woman went over to bring you the first outfit. It was a cherry red hooded dress, with an embroidered lace panel and billowy sleeves. You undressed, realising that the woman meant to help you. You noticed her staring as you stood there in your underwear.

“Apologies, I did not mean to offend,” she said, averting her gaze. “I just have not seen undergarments in this style before. Are they typical of Midgard?”

You looked at yourself in the mirror. The blue floral t-shirt bra was probably more colourful than standard but otherwise typical, at least for Europe. Before you’d left Thor’s, you’d flipped your knickers inside out. You’d forgotten about that. But there they were. Golden yellow bikini briefs, tag out at the back. You hoped the woman couldn’t see the gusset stains. At this rate, it’d be a minor miracle if you even made it to dinner instead of imploding for embarrassment. You could see your cheeks were trying to match the dress. Oh god, oh god, oh god. The lovebites. The bruises. You were only now getting the full picture, thanks to the mirrors. Fucking hell.

“Please do not feel uncomfortable,” the woman said with a reassuring smile. “We Asgardians are not as shy about our bodies or the pleasures we get from them, as your people are. I am glad that his majesty is finding comfort outside of his flagon. Perhaps he will become well again and begin to notice his people more.”

You sensed that she probably wanted to say more but didn’t out of tact. You allowed her to dress you, lacing the garment at the back.

“What do you think?” she asked, nervously.

“It’s beautiful but I think it would be difficult for me to master the lacing. It’s not really a feature of the clothes I’m used to,” you explained. She nodded and helped you undress before moving onto the next option. This dress was bare-shouldered, in ochre and terracotta linen, with the billowy sleeves again. There was no lacing as the back, instead, a leather belt cinched you in the keep everything in place. You stood staring at your reflection, the bra straps somewhat ruining the look.

“This is not for you either. I can tell by your face,” the woman interrupted your thoughts. You didn’t want to hurt her feelings but you were beginning to panic that you might not find anything you liked.

You tried on several more outfits including a cream linen dress (“I will definitely stain this with dinner”) a beige dress that laced up at the front (“Too long, I’ll end up tripping over it”) and a black dress with built-in fingerless gloves (“I would feel rude wearing gloves at dinner”).

You were down to the final garment and you were beginning to panic, wondering how low long you’d been there and when would the shops shut in Tønsberg.

It was another linen dress, this time in black, with beautiful gold embroidered details on the balloon style sleeves, which were attached to the shoulders of the dress with eyelet lacing. The ribbon corset lacing detail to each side of the dress accentuated your waist, while the scoop neckline showed just the right amount of cleavage. Better still, the skirt came to just below your ankle, so it wouldn’t drag along the ground.

“Ah, I love this,” you said, admiring yourself in the different mirrors. “Knocking ‘em cold in black and gold.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh! It’s a lyric from a song.”

“What is the name of this song?”

“I don’t remember,” you lied. There was no way you were going to explain Sex Dwarf, or Soft Cell, to an Asgardian. Where would you even begin? You began undressing, working up the courage to ask how much it was.

“How much is this dress?” you queried, fearful that you wouldn’t be able to afford it.

“For you, on this occasion, I will let you have it for free.”

“No, no you can’t do that. I must pay you for your work,” you panicked.

“What is your name, my dear?”

“Y/N,” you stuttered.

“Y/N. My name is Lorelei. I have lived a long time but these last few years feel as though they have lasted for centuries. It has been hard for us all. I believe you are here among us to change our fortunes for the better. I saw you walking with him earlier. I have not seen him so happy in such a long time. It is my hope that your love for him will restore his health and restore him to our people so that he can lead us as he is supposed to. I give you this dress in the hope that you will help to make Asgard a proud people again. If I am right, this would be but a small token of thanks.”

And if you’re wrong? You wondered. This was a lot of pressure. Love? Leadership? She couldn’t seriously be eying you up as queen? As Thor’s wife? Christ. You’d only just met the guy.

“I...thank you. This is so generous and kind of you. Perhaps we can come to a compromise and you will allow me to purchase some accessories from you?”

“Yes, I will agree to that. Come, let me show you what I have.”

*****

Thor was showered and cleaned his teeth, just as the Valkyrie had instructed.

“What do you think I should wear?” he asked her. “These Midgardian clothes are made for comfort, not courting. That much I know. Do you think my armour would be too much?”

“Yes, definitely. You’re not going into battle. What do your Avenger friends wear on such occasions?”

Thor sat down in his towel next to the Valkyrie. Loki had worn a black suit when they’d been in New York. That had made him look like a witch. Actually, his friends often wore suits too. Or armour. Or costumes. Bucky wore a lot of leather...no, that wouldn’t work either.

“They wear a lot of suits...Stark kept good company...”

“Well, it says here on GQ ‘Don't wear a suit unless your date is somewhere incredibly swanky.’ We don’t have anywhere incredibly swanky around here, so I think you’ll be alright,” the Valkyrie said, looking up from her phone.

“That’s good. Last time I wore a suit was Stark’s funeral…”

“Ok, a suit is definitely out. You don’t want to be reminded of sad things. And don’t wear the Crocs, either.”

“Why not? They’re comfy.”

“Because a lot of Midgardians think they’re unattractive. Look,” she said, holding up her phone to show Thor the Facebook page called ‘I Dont care How Comfortable Crocs Are, You Look Like A Dumbass.’

“Oh, I see,” he said, a little deflated. “I still want to be comfortable though.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. What are you comfortable wearing?”

“Well, I liked my jeans but I can’t fit into them anymore,” he explained, staring at the floor. Why had he asked you out for dinner? This was a stupid idea. He was stupid.

“Hey, I heard about how you just changed into your armour on the battlefield. Couldn’t you just do that but the other way round? I mean it just magically fit you, right?”

“I…” he hadn’t even considered that as an option. “I’d need to use my lightning. You told me not to do that anymore.”

“Can you do it without causing a storm?” asked Brunnhilde, hopeful of a way to get Thor out of his current mental rut.

“Yes, perhaps. Let me grab Stormbreaker.”

Before Brunnhilde could stop him, he was out in the garden in his towel, tapping the handle of his axe into the ground.

*** Back in the cabin, you enjoyed your second shower of the day before getting ready for your dinner with Thor. Although you’d been in colder climes for a while, your skin still disliked it, and you made sure to moisturise liberally. Rifling through your clothes, you soon found the black lace bra and matching shorts. It was the only matching set of underwear you had left, and you couldn’t remember why you’d bought it, but you were glad you had. New, Midgardian, underwear would need to go on the shopping list. The shorts had built-in suspender straps and you carefully rolled your lace top stockings up your legs. Tights would’ve been warmer, for sure, but you disliked how sweaty your crotch got while wearing them.

You slipped into the dress you’d bought earlier, pulling the side lacing tight. In hindsight, it was too much, but your magpie tendencies had taken over. That and the panic of having nothing to wear. Hopefully, Thor would appreciate your attempt at integrating with the local populace. A little black dress was traditional for a date...this one just wasn’t so little. You’d also purchased burgundy hooded wool cloak, with edged with a golden braid and fastened with a gold clasp. Lorelei had assured you it would keep you warm but in all honesty, you’d snuggle up to Thor for warmth, you just really wanted a cloak.

It was fascinating to hear Lorelei talk of her work and that of some of the Asgardian women. Many of them had continued their former trades of weaving, felting, tanning, embroidery, and lacemaking. They wanted to preserve their heritage. But it was hard. They’d all been set up with bank accounts and a small amount of money when they arrived. Nobody really traded with New Asgard and a lot of the money left the local economy and was spent in Norway instead. And it seemed as though Thor wasn’t the only one drowning his sorrows. That made sense. You knew enough about the world to know that substance abuse was often seen in communities that had lost their sense of purpose, their heritage.

Your makeup collection was sparse, certainly compared to what you’d had, but you kept a supply for those times when you needed a professional face. Once the base was on, you tried to decide whether you wanted a bold eye or lip colour. Certainly not both. You wanted to show Thor a more polished version of yourself, not be unrecognisable to him. You spotted the crimson matte lipstick. Of course. A pop of colour to match Thor’s cloak.. You applied your eye makeup - gold eyeshadow, black mascara and eyeliner - struggling to keep your hand steady as the excitement began to kick in. You applied a layer of concealer to your lips before applying your lipstick, blotting, and then applying a second coat.

After styling your hair, you looked at the few pieces of jewellery you’d brought with you. Carefully you attached the garnet drop earrings you’d inherited from your nan before clasping the matching pendant around your neck, the stone resting just above your cleavage.

The only mirror in the hut was a small one above the sink, so you had no idea how the full ensemble looked. The lovebites were prominent but it’d be nigh impossible to cover them. You couldn’t wear a scarf to dinner and none of your high-necked tops were appropriate for the occasion. Checking your phone, you concluded there wasn’t enough time to paint your nails so your spritzed your perfume and shoved your fit into your leather boots, zipping up the side and adjusting the front lacing. They weren’t the bitch boots but they’d do.

Even though you were inside, you put on the cloak so you didn’t have to faff about with it when Thor arrived. Now it was time to wait.

*** It took a few attempts to get to an outfit that Thor was comfortable in and that Brunnhilde was convinced was appropriate.

“How do I look?” he asked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“You look very special. Y/n will be impressed, I don’t doubt it. Now hurry up, you don’t want to make her wait.”

Thor nodded and followed the Valkyrie out of the cabin. He remembered how pleased you’d been that morning with flowers. As he walked to the little hut by the docks. He focused his powers and encouraged the flora to bloom a little early, collecting a small posy as he went, but leaving the rest to add a bit of colour to New Asgard.

The nerves kicked in fully when he stood outside your door. He wanted to run away, to hide at home with his beer and some pizza and some mindless gaming. But he couldn’t do that. You’d given him no reason to distrust you. Trying to calm his breathing, he knocked gently on the door.

He could hear you shuffling around behind the wood and was relieved and surprised when you opened the door. He thought you were beautiful anyway, but seeing you stood there, having made an effort with your appearance, in Asgardian clothes, was more than he could have imagined. His mouth was as dry as it was the morning after a heavy night. His heart hammering as though he’d run to the hut, not meandered leisurely. The skin on his face burning as he blushed, he thought he might combust. Standing there, on your doorstep in New Asgard had him feeling hotter and sweating more than when he’d reignited the forge on Nidavellir.

Not trusting his mouth not to say something stupid, he took one hand and kissed it, placing the posy of flowers into your other hand.

“That’s very kind of you, Thor,” you smiled at him. “Please come in a second so I can put these somewhere.” You grabbed your Thermos in the kitchenette, filling it with water and placing the flowers inside, standing it on the windowsill.

Turning around, Thor was stood awkwardly with his back to the door. He looked ravishing, dressed up, with his hair neatly braided at the back. It was so odd, seeing him in something other than his jogging bottoms, hoodies and cardis. You wondered what he would look like, dressed up to the nines in Asgardian finery, but tonight he’d gone for a more earthly look. The brick-red plaid flannel shirt with the crimson suspenders, framing the swell of his stomach beautifully, attached to the comfy looking jeans that you reckoned were probably hugging the curve of his arse, showing off just how shapely it was, thick thighs making them look almost painted on in places. He’d even forgone his Crocs in favour of a pair of sturdy leather boots. If he hadn’t promised you dinner, you’d have dragged him to bed then and there.

You felt a little foolish now, dressed in your Asgardian clothes, but the electric blue hue of his left eye let you know he liked what he saw. Striding over to him, you pressed him back into the door, running your fingers through the loose golden hair outlining his face against the dark wood of the door. It was remarkably soft, like fresh down, and you could feel Thor holding his breath as you pressed into the marshmallow softness of his stomach, tiptoeing to reach his lips. His facial hair tickled your nose, and it was an effort not to flinch away from it, instead, pressing harder, your tongue slipping into his mouth. Thor’s strong arms wrapped around you so tight you were concerned he’d crack a rib or several.

“Now, that’s how you greet someone with a kiss,” you winked, handing him a tissue to remove the transferred lipstick. “Shall we?” you asked, clutching your bag and reaching past him for the doorknob. A rumble from Thor’s belly was the answer you got as you grabbed his hand and ventured into the cool evening.

@innerpaperexpertcloud @morganhoran1671

[lovehugsandcandy]

Who Killed Jason Shaw? Chapter 5: Mona (RoD, Colt x MC)

Summary: Ellie visits Mona and makes an eventful stop at Shaw’s wake.

Rating: R (discussions of death, almost violence)

Pairing: Colt x MC, RoD

Length: ~2300 words

“You gonna let me in?”

Mona rolled her eyes, opening the door wider to let her slide past. “I suppose I can fit you in my busy schedule.”

Ellie smirked and pulled the car keys from her pocket, tossing them over with a flick of the wrist. “You chariot, your highness.”

“Thanks. Kaneko probably liked riding shotgun in my car over your dad’s old cruiser.”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“It’s not like I can drive it anywhere anyways.”

“How’s house arrest?”

“Still awful.” Mona flopped onto her couch. “I am caught up on all the daytime TV I never wanted to watch, the only person who visits me is my lawyer, and I just want to be out.”

“I’m sorry.” Ellie flopped beside her. “You want some good news?”

“Shaw’s dead.”

Ellie sat up suspiciously. “How did you-?”

“My lawyer.” Mona ran hand through her hair. “He called the day after it happened, chewed me out a little, and then wanted to talk strategy.”

“What strategy?”

“Well, he was supposed to testify against me. He’s dead, Hester and Wallace are on the run so...”

Ellie furrowed her brows. “Sooo....”

“So he thinks there’s not much of a case, really.”

“He thinks he’s gonna get you off all charges?”

Mona shrugged. “Colt hired the best.”

“And they know you couldn’t do it anyways...”

“Do what? What do you mean?”

Ellie looked at her hands. “My dad thinks it wasn’t an accident. He thinks someone from the crew offed him.”

“Wait. What do you mean I couldn’t do it?” Mona looked almost offended. “I could do it. I would, with my own bare hands.”

“Ummm...your ankle bracelet?” Ellie looked pointedly at the large black contraption tied to her ankle. “They would know if you left the house, if you got within ten blocks of him.”

“Psh.” Mona derisive scoff made Ellie pause. “I can get this thing off, not problem.”

Ellie froze, heart dropping. “What?”

“It’s not hard. You just need the right screwdriver to get the side piece off and the paneling inside had a joint that you can undo. Wanna see?”

“Wait, no-”

“Too bad.” Mona leapt from the couch to fish around in a kitchen cabinet, returning with a small Phillips. “See? You just need to...” It took thirty seconds, three separate screws and then Mona slid her fingers over her dainty foot and suddenly, the tracking bracelet was dangling from her finger. “Tada! Easy.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped.

“I don’t do it that often, you know.” Mona fiddled with the black plastic in her hands. “Just when I desperately need to get out of the house.”

“Mona...” Ellie nervously rubbed her fingers together. “Did you desperately need to get out of the house Sunday night?”

“I don’t know...maybe? I might have snuck out, just to get some fresh air and hit the bar down the block. Why?” Ellie avoided her gaze to look out the window. “Oh my God, you’re investigating.” Ellie kept looking out the window; she could only see sky, blue stretching out as far as she could see, but she just kept staring, mind racing. “Are you investigating me?”

“Well, I wasn’t! I thought you were stuck here all the time!” Ellie sighed, looking at her hands. “My dad’s investigating. He thinks it wasn’t as accidental as it appears and he suspects someone from the crew.”

Mona blinked and then threw her head back, laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Mona wiped a stray tear from her eye. “I feel like you could throw a rock in LA and have a good chance of hitting someone who had it out for Shaw. Yeah, we are sketchy, but so is half the county. You know he’s after us because your dad thinks we corrupted his little girl.”

“Probably true...”

“Do you think he did it?”

“Huh? Who?”

“Your mastermind boyfriend, there.”

Ellie looked out the window again. “He said no. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

“He’d only make you unknowingly transport someone he kidnapped.”

“He didn’t kill him.”

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know!” Ellie threw up her hands. “Maybe it really just was an accident!”

“Ha. Or maybe you’re still the shy valedictorian who has a ten o’clock curfew.”

Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Why don’t you check out the wake?” Mona continued.

Ellie froze. “What?”

“My lawyer told me the wake’s today and tomorrow, they put that bastard in the ground.”

“Why would I go to the wake?”

“Doesn’t the murderer always do that? Gloat over their victim? You could investigate who shows up.” Mona grinned, all teeth. 

“And how would you know this?”

“I’ve watched hours of TV sitting in this freaking apartment; there is a Law & Order on every goddamn hour!”  Mona cast an assessing eye over her clothes. “You’re in all black anyways, perfect outfit. Why don’t you check it out?”

“I just did laundry, ok?” Ellie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t bring that many clothes, jeez. Chill out.”

“Ok. But I’m just saying you should check it out. It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had.”

Ellie looked at her assessingly. “Not the worst...”

~~~~~

Ellie was bored. So bored. She had been there for an hour and no one, not a soul, had come or gone from the funeral home. She expected someone, anyone, hell, she prayed for someone to come but it was dead. Apparently, the cops wanted nothing to do with Shaw and Meaghan started a new life for herself. It just meant that there was absolutely nothing to see or do on this silent, still street. She had already searched her dad’s car for snacks (and found nothing) and dug through her purse for something to do (she counted her change, watched the flame of a lighter dance, and played Solitaire until her battery was down to 15%).

She was bored.

As a result, any confusion she felt when she heard the familiar roar of a motorcycle was immediately supplanted by relief as Colt slid into her passenger seat.

“What are you doing here?” Didn’t Mona say that the guilty party always showed up? Criminal tendencies aside, she was rarely wrong.

“Came to see you.”

“How’d you know I was here?”

“Talked to Mona.” He settled in next to her. “I didn’t know you borrowed her car.”

“Yeah, the brakes on my dad’s old cruiser were acting up. I fixed them, though.”

“Look at my little mechanic.”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you come here to make fun of me? Or to run surveillance on the funeral home, too? Because let me tell you, it’s boring as hell.”

“I can imagine.” He cast a skeptical look across the street, at the bored employees in dark suits milling around. “Have you been looking at these phone records?”

Ellie’s heart dropped. She had been, before shoving them under her bed when her dad came up the stairs, but something in the gleam of Colt's eyes made he think she should have been looking closer. “Uhh...”

“There’s a bunch of weird stuff here.” Colt pulled out the papers, neatly folded in the pocket of his jacket. She could see blue ink, phone numbers and dates circles, careful notes in the margins.

“When did you become a detective?”

“Ha ha. Know the law to beat the law.” He handed her a page. “He sure called Chicago a lot.”

She looked down at the paper. “You think it’s Hester or Wallace?”

“Could be.” He thumbed through the pages. “Some weird payphone calls, the one Toby found, a long one the day before he died outside Mile High Stadium.” He flipped through some more pages. “But look, look.”

Ellie’s heart dropped and her mouth went dry.

“Ellie, he called Logan!” If Colt could find it that easily, the cops could too. “Ellie, him and Logan talked. Multiple times. There’s one here, over a week ago. Then another...” The sound of pages turning pulled Ellie from her reverie. “And here. Three times, Ellie. He and Logan talked three times.”

She rubbed her forehead.

“Did you visit him yet?”

“No.” The space behind her eyes was starting to throb. “Not yet.”

Colt looked at her curiously, studying her. Finally, he dropped the papers. “Hey. You ok?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah, fine. Fine.” Even she could tell her voice was hollow and unconvincing.

His careful fingers curled around the back of her neck and her breath caught. She had seen those hands punch and scrabble and commit acts of violence that made her head spin but, sometimes, when those fingers ghosted over her skin, sometimes she forgot the hard edges, the crime, willing to forget all of it for just one more gentle touch. Besides, wasn’t everyone a mix of good and evil, an internal a battle between the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other? Just because the devil won once didn’t mean a person was irredeemable. Right?

“Hey.” His soft voice broke through her thoughts. “I love you.”

She blinked, brow furrowing. “I know. I love you, too.” She sighed, low in her throat, as those gentle fingers tugged, lifting her across the center console, gently placing her in his lap.

“I love you, Ellie.” His mutter was low, lips against the skin behind her ear. “No matter what, I love you.”

She pulled back to look at him. “What do you-AAAH!” Her query was interrupted by the car door flying open, a strong hand on her arm pulling her from the car, catching her before she tumbled to the pavement. “What the-?”

She looked up at her assailant and her voice died in her throat at the fury in her dad’s eyes. “Dad?”

“Get your hands off of her!” Cot was out of the car in an instant, leaping to the ground behind her.

“This is between me and my daughter, not some degenerate two-bit thief.”

“Excuse me?” Colt strode forward and Ellie’s breath caught; he looked every bit the criminal her dad claimed, tough, aggressive, hands balled into fists as his eyes zeroed in on her dad. She tried to shrink away but her dad’s hand held firm. “I said let go of her!” 

Finally, her dad let his arm fall, glaring at Colt. “Ellie, get in the car and go home. Now!”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Colt slid in front of her, stepping in front of her dad; she could just see the ice in her dad’s eyes over the leather jacket and the rigid set of shoulders underneath.

“Colt, no-” This is not how she envisioned Colt meeting her dad. Crap.

“And you? Leave my daughter alone.”

“I think she can decide who she talks to.”

“And I think it’s not gonna be idiot hooligans with more muscles than brains. You need to stay the hell away from her.”

“You watch how you talk to me.” 

“Or what? Stay. Away. From. Her. Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“You think I have any qualms about taking you out of here in cuffs?”

“What’s the charge, exactly, Detective? Keeping her bed warm? I mean, that’s not illegal, but maybe some of the things we do should be, right?”

“COLT!” Jesus Christ, she was gonna kill him.

“How about murder, smart ass?”

“You think I killed him?”

Her dad took another step forward, hate in his eyes, jaw set.

“Fucking cuff me then.” Colt’s voice held a challenge that she was terrified her dad would accept.

Her dad took yet another step closer as the two squared off. “Don’t think I won’t hesitate to take you in.” 

“Colt, come on.” She was clinging to his arm, trying to pull him back, her eyes brimming with tears; she could feel his tension in his muscles, coiled and ready to strike. If the clench of his fist was a precursor to a punch, this would get ugly. Fast. 

“You better have some proof before you start throwing baseless accusations around.” The ushers from the funeral home had noticed the altercation, turning to watch, gesturing and whispering.

“Baby, please.” Ellie pulled harder but Colt wasn’t moving, feet planted, less than a foot between him and her dad.

“I’ve taken down tougher men than you, Kaneko.” Her dad wasn’t backing down either, hand on his service pistol, another step forward so he was in Colt’s face. 

The tears had started to fall, clinging to her cheeks, dropping into her hair. “Dad, stop!”

They were eye-to-eye now; her dad had an inch over Colt but Colt was broader, the tight lines under the cut of leather imposing enough without the rage in his eyes. “If you think you can pin this on me, then you’re as fucking corrupt as he was.”

“Colt!” It took the hysteria creeping into her voice and one huge tug on his forearm but, finally, he turned, looking at her as if he just remembered she was there. “Please, stop. Please.” She watched him look at her dad, again, then her, taking in the tears on her face, the trembling of the arm that still clutched at him, desperately.

With one last look at her dad, jaw clenching, he shook his head and turned heel, storming back to his bike.

“What the hell, dad?”

“I cannot believe you’re...you’re cavorting with him!”

She blinked, watching Colt throw his leg over the bike and, before she could think better of it, darted after him. “Wait, wait!” He looked confused, helmet in his hands, as she dashed over. Before she could think twice, acting on instinct without regard for consequence, she clutched his cheeks in her palms, pulling his lips to hers in a desperate apology, an unmistakable message to them both. He kissed her back, fiercely, before she pulled away. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His eyes trailed down her face, softness in his eyes such a contrast to the enraged look her dad got. Finally, with one last glance behind her, he put his helmet on and was off with a roar. After his taillights faded into the night, she crossed her arms over her chest, shooting one last withering look at her dad before getting in the car and driving away.

[lokidokiliteratureclub]

Frostbitten (Chapter One)

Loki x Reader

Prologue

Y/N L/N is a child of a Jotun and an Asgardian. She spends her life hidden in the dungeons of Asgard, with no one to talk to other than one of the princes- a man who seems completely incapable of leaving her alone and entirely unable to give up on helping her. Y/N and Loki Odinson have always been inseparable, it seems- even when there is a cell wall, or a village, or an entire kingdom between them. 

Even when he disappears, even when you run away, and even when his world falls apart; you are inseparable. 

Oh lordy the first part of this fic got waaayy more attention than I was expecting If you want to be added for tags in this series, leave a comment or send me an ask, and I’ll add you for the coming parts. Thanks so much for reading!!

P.S.: This part is not action-filled or anything. The interesting stuff starts the next part.

P.P.S: Normally I don’t update this quickly- I just wasn’t doing anything else today.

________________________

Twelve Years Later

Loki Odinson has not been down in the dungeons for two months. That's two months of being alone. Two months of not speaking. Two months of you wondering what's wrong on the surface. Three times so far you've gotten too close to the barrier. Those three times are hardened burns on your blue arms. Small welts on your soft palms. Scratches on your bare knees. The lady who brings you food in the morning noticed the wounds but said nothing- simply laying a tub of ice on the table next to a soft washcloth.

The fact that they actually gave you an unassembled ice pack for your injuries makes you want to laugh. It sounds like something you’d tell Loki about. You add it silently to the list of things you’ll tell him when he comes back.

If he comes back.

Loki has left before- usually with a warning, though. Usually only for a week. It has been eight.

One day he’s sitting outside your cell, applauding you on how far you’ve advanced in magic and droning on about how he wishes he could see you without the yellow film between you- maybe even touch you. Shake your hand. Touch your shoulder. Things that people can do when they’re not imprisoned under a giant castle or unable to control whose arm they freeze off. One day, you two are dreaming of what could be, completely absorbed in each other's thoughts and words, and the next, the inseparable become separated.

And even though it’s possible that he left you by choice, you’re more worried for him than you are about yourself. 

"Hey, Njord," you speak aloud, targeting one of the head guards on patrol. He doesn't stop to look at you, not even shifting from his position outside your cell. "Hey, Njord," you say, louder. "What's the buzz? How's the royal family?"

Njord heaves an annoyed sigh but doesn't respond. You scoot closer to the barrier so that you and the guard are only really about a foot apart.

"Hey, Njord,"

He makes a huffing noise.

"I'd like a book. Or a cup of tea. Is that arrangeable?" You tilt your head, fiddling with a couple spare strands of hair. "Your beard looks rather nice today. Very clean."

Njord gives a slight swell of pride and raises a hand to caress his beard, but then he realizes he doesn't have a beard. His face falls. He looks sad. You almost feel bad, but you don’t. So you laugh.

"Don't tease him, he lost the beard in a bet," says Lady Sif, descending into the prison in a bit of haste and sparing you a quick glance. "Haven't you anything else to do, prisoner?"

You shrug, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling. "I'm a twenty-two-y-year-old Jotun-Asgardian hybrid in prison, whose only companion has been inexplicably absent for two months. Njord won't get me books. I haven't seen the light of day in fourteen years. I have literally nothing to think about and nothing to do, so no."

"Njord, get her a book or two so she'll quit talking," Sif grumbles, and footsteps let you know that he is leaving.

You roll onto your stomach, staring out at her. She's dismounting a shield and removing a sword from one of the upper shelves of the guard's stock. She's a bit flimsy with the weapons from what you can see, but Loki had insisted that she showed promise in the combat field. More than meets the eye, you suppose.

You watch her fasten the shield to her arm and prop yourself up on your elbows. "Will you be joining the staff down here?"

She sends you a pointed glare. "No. I'll be joining the staff up there." Sif nods toward the stairs leading out of the dungeons and grabs a sword sheath from another shelf, attempting to fasten that on as well. 

"Joining the army? How patriotic."

She ignores you, sheaths the sword, and heads back up.

"Hm." You exhale. "Rude."

Moments later, Njord arrives back in your cell, stepping through the energy barrier like it’s not even there. He drops a single hardcover down in front of you, then strides back out and resumes his post. The book is long- which is probably what Njord was going for when he found it. It’ll take you especially long since you really have only known how to read for three years- courtesy of Loki, of course. The gift of literacy is one of the many you’ve received from him. Hopefully, it can save you from dying of boredom or worry while you wonder where the hel he is.

The first thing you notice when you look at the book is that it’s completely tattered- sometimes with entire pages missing out of it. The pages that remain are yellowed and reek of a musty, almost moldy smell. You wrinkle your nose, looking back to Njord.

“Where did you get this?” you ask, shaking your head.

Njord finally gives in and responds with a grain of salt: “The book cart outside the dungeon. Last one.”

There’s no book cart outside the dungeon. They keep the area empty to ensure there aren’t any messages being passed between the outside world and the world down here.

Could Loki be trying to... no. Well, maybe. Maybe he’s banned from the dungeons. Maybe this is his only way to contact. Maybe he hasn’t abandoned you, and he’s been trying to contact all this time. The thought of it gives you the tiniest shard of hope.

You look back down at the book, then very carefully open it. The title is Where You Will and it appears to be romantic fiction. A picture of a girl and a boy are drawn next to each other, the boy wrapping the girl in a shawl. There’s a smeared fingerprint beside the title, and a small note is written in the margin in sloppy, rushed lettering.

I’m cold.

You frown, moving your thumb over the words.

That turned out to be exactly what you needed to do.

In the places where your finger met the page, you see pieces of discoloration. Your heart starts to beat a bit faster, twisting in your chest. You press your entire palm to the page for a moment and then lift it.

It’s a drawing of a snake and beside it a lightly sketched snowflake.

Ok, this is definitely Loki. And unless he’s communicating with another Jotun prisoner who happens to be able to read and happens to have the audacity to ask a guard for books, the message in this book is for you.

You turn the page and grip the side of the book, spilling frost over the surface of the parchment. There are no notes- instead, there are very slight, nearly hidden underlines under some letters. You read over them, putting them together in your head.

y o u n e e d T o l e a V e

And then you flip the page, giving it the same treatment. 

c o l d Is t h e a B s e n c e o f e n E r g y

Then the next page.

t r Y t o d I S s a p e a r

Then,

I w I l l f i n d y o u w H e r e v e r y o u a r e - L

You flip to the next page, and then the next, and the next, until you’re absolutely positive that you’ve seen every message. 

If this is Loki, which it has to be, how long have the books been there? Weeks? A month? How old is this message? And why should you hide?

Cold is the absence of energy.

You at least know what that means. The barrier is pure energy. Loki seems to be implying that you can freeze it, or suck all the juice out of it, or something similar. He clearly thinks you’re more powerful than you are. Not a surprise. That’s kind of his signature move: overestimating you.

It’s charming in a disappointing way. 

Your lips curve into a smile, but it fades into a frown at the thought that whatever Loki is trying to get you away from you cannot escape. You might never see him again. That’s a bit of a dark thought. To never see his sculpted face or charming smile, his dark hair or bright eyes- it leaves a sort of hole in your chest. 

You can’t ever see him again. But can you talk to him? There’s no invisible ink for you to use, but...

You squeeze your eyes shut, wincing, and then bite roughly down on the inside of your cheek until you taste blood. You slip a finger inside your mouth and, using the same communication strategy Loki did, wipe a faint smear of blue over letters on the page, spelling out what you want him to see.

You set down the book and stand up, moving toward the small bed in the back of the cell. Your fear moves through your body and crystalizes on the floor, leaving a trail of ice in your wake. 

You repeat your list of things to remember, your list of things you’ve been told, as you lie down, coaxing yourself into sleep.

You are going to be okay, and nothing can stop that from being so. Not the princes. Not the armies. Not the guards or the walls or the bars that hold you in. Not the ice in your blood or the dark in your eyes. You are safe. You will always be safe. You are not a monster. You are not alone. You can control yourself. I will watch over you.

----

Loki Odinson has not been down to the dungeons in two months. That’s two months of wondering what could be going wrong. That’s two months of hoping you know he hasn’t abandoned you. That’s three attempts at contact, this last one being the most obvious. Writing in a book with ink that can only be seen in the cold. He just has to hope you ask for books, and hope the guards comply.

He does not enjoy being apart from you, and even though he was fully aware that it was going to be hard- suddenly not having you in his life, that is- he could not have anticipated just how hard it was. He actually spoke to his brother, for Odin’s sake. That wasn’t even the hardest task of them all.

You are an echo inside his mind. A song that plays over and over and over, no matter how infuriating it can be. Every time he thinks he can think about something else, you creep back into his mind and he becomes restless again. He buries his head in his hands and tries not to rip out every strand of hair, failing not to picture the worst that could happen if you aren’t prepared. If he can’t get you out of the castle before something.. before it happens. And it’s happening. 

When he sees that the book is gone from the cart, his heart nearly stops. He takes a deep breath, puts on a scowl, and confronts an annoyed Njord as he exits the dungeons.

“Hey, Njord,” he speaks, trying his best to sound uninterested. “Where’s my book?”

Njord stiffens at the sound of Loki’s cold voice and turns deftly toward him. “Your book, your highness?”

“I left it on the cart outside.” He signals to the empty cart, and Njord goes a shade whiter. “You were on guard, yes?”

“The book was yours, sir?”

“Did you give it to someone else?”

“One of the prisoners, sir. Forgive me, I thought it to be meant for-” he breaks off, noticing Loki’s disinterest in the conversation. “I’ll retrieve it at once.”

Moments later, he returns, grasping the book in his hands. He holds it out to Loki, and the prince swiftly takes it from him, huffing to keep from bursting into tears. Njord looks like he might go into cardiac arrest, on the other hand, so Loki adds: “If the prisoners are in need of some form of entertainment, I’ll gather a collection of books personally.”

Njord nods, swallowing. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Of course not, sir.”

“Good,” Loki turns on his heel, away from the guard. “Oh, and your beard is looking swell today, Njord.”

He strides, perhaps a bit too quickly, over to the library, and drops the book on the table, flipping to the opening page. It’s empty. But turn another, and smears of blue appear, clouding over certain letters. Loki’s pulse quickens. He finds his grip tightening on the table as he strings the words together.

I m n O t t h a t s t r o n g

an awful lie, followed by

w h a t  a m I h I d i n g f r o M

Loki exhales and rips the pages from the book, shoving them into his pocket and throwing the damaged copy aside. He’s moving to another shelf, reaching for a book to reply with when his eye catches that of his mother as she passes by. Her shoulder brushes gently against his as she moves to stand next to him, staring over the sea of books along the shelves.

“You’re stressed,” she comments, looking over him. “Is something bothering you?”

“No, no, nothing,” he mutters in return. Frigga looks at him skeptically. “I promise, mother. It’s just that I’m a bit-”

“Don’t lie to me, dear,” she interrupts, reaching into her pocket. Loki’s eyes follow her hand, and she sets a small key on the shelf in front of him, smiling slightly. “It’s perfectly alright to worry about someone. Especially when that person may be in danger.”

She knows.

Loki just stares, first at the key, then at his mother. He opens his mouth and then closes it, and then says: “How long have you...”

“How could I not?” She finishes for him. “Your eyes light up when you speak of someone you care about.”

There’s a heavy silence.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Don’t thank me until after you find what you’re looking for,” she replies.

Then she turns, and she’s gone.

Loki picks up the key, leaves the books, and rushes to his room to prepare for the worst.

Frostbitten Tags:

@natalia-rushman @what-inspirational-name @jessiejunebug @fandomdestroyer @a-new-schematic @iris-suoh

[heartofsnark]

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter Seven): There’s a dog in your heart

Notes:  Okay, I hate to do this, but I think following this chapter there will be a hiatus for this fic. This chapter took a lot out of me and left me drained, I’ve fallen behind on writing chapters. So, I think I’m going to take a break, get some motivation back, and get some more chapters done in advanced. Thank you all for the support and I hope it won’t be too long before I’m coming back to you with some more chapters. 

Word Count: 13,273

Warnings:  POV Switches, Panic Attacks, Angry Outbursts, Drinking, Drunk Kisses, Masturbation, Wasted Pastries

Missed the last chapter? Link Here!

Tsuneko sighs as she takes a seat on the bus, mostly empty at this early hour. She checks her texts; two from Chisato and one from Sakiko. No messages from Shinobu, this is the longest he’s ever ignored her. She shakes off the thought, bigger problems. 

2:25am

Chisato: Np I’ll take care of kiyo, is something wrong tho? Are you working this late???

7:35am

Chisato: Is something up, you’re never been this late.

7:29am

Sakiko: where r u? erika is pissed u ok?

They must have been working or in a meeting when they messaged her, they didn’t have to check on her. She made Chisato take care of Kiyohito in the middle of the night and made them both worry. She sighs and sends them both quick messages. 

Tsuneko: Thanks so much, sorry for the trouble. I’m fine. I’ll be there soon. 

She searches for a moment before choosing an animated Cinnamoroll sticker that says sorry with the little mascot looking down in shame. 

Tsuneko: I’m headed that way, I’ll deal with Erika, don’t stress.

Sakiko gets another animated Cinnamoroll sticker of him flying that says on my way. It’s something small but the little stickers make her happy, kill her in micro-transactions, but it’s worth it to make her conversations that much cuter. 

Her stomach growls and she slumps further into her seat when a few people stare. Once she’s back she needs to check on Kiyo again for the morning and then hurry her ass into work before Ichinomiya can call her out on being late. 

She opens up Monster Lovers, romancing her favorite snake boy as she waits for the bus to reach the stop nearest the Tres Spades. He’s still acting cold towards her, he’s a kuudere brat and she’d hit him if she didn’t want to kiss him. 

The bus reaches the stop just as she’s reaching a rare soft moment with Tatsumi in his story. She tucks the phone away and gets off, her movements are slow and groggy. Lately, her life just seems to be just one panic attack after another and it’s taking a toll. 

She’s exhausted, it’s like she’s trudging through tar with leaden limbs. Everything is just a half-hearted slow drag of movement. 

A heavy yawn escapes her as she makes it into her dorm to check on Kiyo. He’s sleeping and has plenty of food to last him, Chisato made sure he’d be taken care of just in case. 

She’s content to head back to the hotel when something catches her eye, a bright pink sticky note on her counter. It’s not one of hers, it’s the basic kind found at dollar stores over the cutesy stuff she keeps around. The little note is stuck on top of a large pack of raspberry Kit-Kats. 

Sweets to keep your energy up!~

-Chisato

Chisato thinks Tsuneko is just working extremely late shifts for the penthouse guests, she was texted randomly in the middle of the night and not only took care of Kiyo, but wanted to watch out for Tsuneko too. She didn’t have to do that. Neither of them had to check in on her or worry. Tsuneko isn’t sure what they see in her and it’s only a matter of time only they realize she’s not worth the energy, but for now she’ll enjoy it. 

She’s not sure when she started crying, but her face is wet as she devours the food. The taste soothing and sweet, she swallows down what’s left and guzzles down a soda. 

Tsuneko grabs a quick shower, tears washing down the drain with the water, and throws on some clothes before rushing back to the hotel. The candy seems to have done the trick, if only for a moment she’s able to run and bustle. 

The locker room is vacant, Ichinomiya didn’t schedule or mention any events, so at the very least it’s a normal workday. She throws on a uniform and pulls her hair back. She’ll go to the penthouse first, make sure Ichinomiya doesn’t think she skipped out on work. 

She closes her locker with a harder slam than needed and jerks back when she nearly runs into Erika. The head maid is alone at the moment, not a twin in sight, eyebrows furrowed and hands on her hips. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” 

Tsuneko’s nerves are already frayed and Erika’s shrill voice is only making matters worse. 

“Look-”

“Do you think just because Mr. Ichinomiya likes you that you can just start slacking off?!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m late, but I’m not in the mood for this shit right now.” 

“You’re not in the mood for this!?” 

“I said I’m sorry, can you just let go, right now.” 

“You just got a major promotion, you can’t afford to stop pulling your weight around here!” 

“If you’re that fuckin’ worried, stop bitching at me and go do your own work!”

“Excuse you!?” 

“Oh my god, would you get off my dick!? I’ve literally never been this late before! I’ve never taken sick days, I’ve never taken a vacation day, and I work over time and cover everyone else’s shifts when they need it! I had one bad day out of a year, excuse the fuck out of me.”

Erika chews her lip and the tension in her face seems to ease for a moment, her eyes soft but her voice stays sharp. 

“What the hell is in your tongue?” 

Tsuneko narrows her eyes, confused for a second, then she feels the metal of her tongue piercing click against the roof of her mouth. Shit, shit, she forgot to take that out. 

“Uhhhh…that would be my tongue ring, which will be removed right stat now.” 

“Don’t be so careless, what if a guest had seen that,” Erika grumbles, her face turning red with irritation as Tsuneko removes the piercing. 

“So, we’re good now?” Tsuneko sticks her tongue out after dropping the piercing in her pocket. 

“Whatever, just get to work.” Erika turns, her cheeks turning a slightly deeper red, and starts to rush out. 

“Would have gotten to work ten minutes ago if someone wasn’t yelling at me,” Tsuneko taunts as she trails after the head maid.

“Yeah and someone would have saw that ring in your tongue.” 

“Still would have been working.” Tsuneko shrugs as they leave the locker room, going their separate ways to work. 

She grabs her work schedule and a cleaning cart. The penthouse is notably vacant when she arrives, Kishi is the only person she sees and he’s sleeping on a couch. She’s able to quickly clean the lounge, the only noise is the old man’s chainsaw volume snoring. While irritating, it’s still preferable to the teasing and threats of the bidders. 

The lounge and suites are clean, she manages to escape the place unscathed for the day. Just a small comfort in the hell of her life. She leans her weight against the back of the elevator as it descends downward, fiddling with the good luck charm still in her pocket. She’ll have worn a hole in the fabric by the time she gets it back to its owner, if she ever manages to do that. 

She needs to apologize to Chisato and Sakiko properly, she made them worry. Maybe she’ll treat them to that bakery at lunch. She’ll need to apologize to the Hatter too, for running out in the morning without any notice. He still hasn’t shown her anything to do with the auctions either, other than rambling about a few items. 

Her throat tightens for the millionth time it seems. Her gaze lingers to her hand, she didn’t bother to bandage it this morning, the skin has closed and she was in a hurry after all. The small cuts across her fingers are just a faint pink mark away, almost nothing than but a memory. As expected there still a large angry red scar across the middle of her palm. The bruises on her face are mostly gone as well, having turned to a faint yellowing color. She doesn’t bother paying special attention to it with makeup anymore. 

A lot of the physical reminders of that night are fading, but just the thought of the auctions puts her right back there. It’s cruel of them, to make her go back to the place and event that ruined her life. But, she can’t expect anything less than cruelty from them, now can she. 

She has to see this as just another part of work; compartmentalizing and burying her feelings are key points in her limited skill set. Maybe if she tried walking the stage without the auctions going on it would help? Just having a memory of it not attached to that night, or at least get the initial panic attacks out of being there again. 

The elevator comes to a stop and she gets back to work. It’s the usual monotony of her job, that lets her just focus on doing things without those dangerous hurtful thoughts creeping in. Making beds, cleaning bathrooms, restocking amenities, delivering brochures and answering guest questions. It’s all muscle memory at this point, allowing her to block out every intrusive thought and operate on autopilot. 

She gets through to lunch break; Chisato and Sakiko are getting in line to buy food. Tsuneko tentatively walks up behind them, poking them both in the sides, snickering when they both jump. 

“Tsuneko, you made it in!” Sakiko is the first to talk, as usual. 

“Yeah, sorry for the worries, and,” she looks to Chisato, “thanks for taking care of you know who.” 

“It’s no problem, but were they making you work that late?” 

“Uh, not quite don’t worry about it.” 

“Tsuneko, you already work a lot, even V.I.P’s can’t expect you to work that late. You’ll run yourself ragged.” 

“I’m fine really.” 

“Hmmm,” a smug grin pulls at Sakiko’s lips, “Mr. Ichinomiya wants you working late into the night, hmm.”

“You want me to treat you for lunch Chisato?”  

“Wait, what?” 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

“Hey, I’m invited too, right?” 

“You hear something, Chisato?” 

“The A.C must have kicked on.” 

“Don’t ignore me!” 

“C’mon there’s a bakery I wanna go to.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Tsuneko and Chisato start the walk out of the lunchroom, not paying mind to the flustered Sakiko. 

“Hey! I want free food too,” Sakiko whines before following after them, knowing despite their jokes she’s more than welcomed to come along. 

Tsuneko leads the two of them to Parolee, there’s a cute girl at the register. She doesn’t see the cute boy from last time, but there are worse things in life. They each pick out a treat and a drink before tucking themselves away at a table. 

She’ll finish up her shift, walk the stage, and then take a visit to Wonderland. She’s memorized most of the items; she figures the Hatter will be taking over most of the descriptions given that’s more of his expertise than hers. She doesn’t want to go near that stage, but there’s no way to fight it. She’s been getting bold enough as is given that Oh is more than willing to end her life. 

She’d rather die on her own terms. A silly distinction it might seem, death is death after all.  But it’s important to her. That’s the one thing she’s sticking to, no matter what. If she wins the bet….she knows making a genuine attempt to get her life back on track is the best choice, logically. But, even when she was in University, even when her life was on track she wasn’t happy. She hasn’t been happy since she was nine, a few bright spots now and again, but she can’t say she’s ever been a happy person.  If she’s going to be miserable no matter what, is there any point? She always thought if she graduated top of her class, passed the bar, became a lawyer, and finally made something of herself she’d be happy. But, now she’s not so sure. Every setback and time her goals get crushed, she feels like it’s all for nothing. 

Maybe the gloomy situation is just getting to her, she’s been like this before, and she thinks she’s been like this since the expulsion.  The bet and kidnapping just cranked it up to eleven. It was during that time between university and the Tres Spades that she first bought the rope. 

If she does make that decision, she’ll take care of everything she needs to first, make sure everything will be taken care of before she goes. She doesn’t want to leave a mess behind her. She’d have to find Kiyo a new home and have some uncomfortable talks with her family. There a lot of things her dad deserves to know, from her directly and not from some posthumous investigation. Some final words to those she cares about, lots of apologies for being who she is. 

Once that’s taken care of it shouldn’t be too hard on anyone, most people will probably be thank-

“Tsuneko!” 

Sakiko’s yell makes her jolt in her seat, knee banging against the table. Sakiko and Chisato are looking at her like she’s a wounded puppy and her stomach knots. They’re both half way through their desserts, Tsuneko’s tiramisu is mostly gone and the taste of espresso in her mouth tells her that she’s been mindlessly eating with every depressive thought. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t said a word; you’ve just been zoned out and jittery.” 

“Seriously, your leg has been bouncing nonstop. You were making the table shake so much I thought my drink was gonna spill.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tsuneko rubs a hand over her face, “I’m fine, just thinking.” 

“Maybe you should consider taking tomorrow off,” Chisao offers as Tsuneko downs her water, when did her throat get so dry?

“No can do. Big promotion, can’t slack, all of that jazz.” 

“Tsuneko, I’m saying this as your friend,” Sakiko’s voice is soft, “you look like shit.” 

“Thanks asshole.” 

“She’s right Tsuneko, you’re getting bags under your eyes and, I mean, you look like you’re a second away from a breakdown.” 

“Pffft, I’ve been a mess since day one, it’s nothing new.” 

“You need to take care of yourself Tsuneko, I know the penthouse guests must expect a lot from you, but running yourself ragged isn’t going to help anyone.” 

“I’m fine, I promise.” 

“Hey, Yayoi still owes you for taking over the day you got hurt right?”  

“I guess,” Tsuneko grumbles, she wasn’t even meant to be working the day she was sold. How she has such shit luck is a mystery. 

“She’s on night shift tomorrow, why don’t you switch with her. You can relax tonight and sleep in tomorrow, but you’ll still be working.” 

Night shift in general is easier, given most guests are sleeping. It’s mainly cleaning the lobby, halls, etc. It’s quieter and minimal customer interactions. Would Ichinomiya call that avoiding work? As long as she cleans the penthouse suites when she first arrives in the late evening, it should be fine. 

“If I say yes, will you shut up?” 

“For now,” Sakiko offers before taking another bite of her cake. 

She ordered the strawberry shortcake the same kind Ichinomya and Tsuneko had to share last time they were here.  The red strawberry on top has been put off to the side, before Tsuneko realizes what she’s doing she’s grabbed it and takes a bite. 

“Hey! I was saving that!” 

“Snooze you lose.” 

“I didn’t even say anything stupid!” 

“Everything you say is stupid by default.” 

“That’s not even fair.” 

“That’s life.” Tsuneko shrugs, eating the last of her dessert. 

“You two ready to head back?” 

“I wanna buy some stuff to go, you wanna get something for Itsuki? I’ll buy.” 

“Sounds good.” Chisato’s smile brightens at the mention of treating her girlfriend. Tsuneko has only met Itsuki a few times, but each time her and Chisato are together they’re nauseatingly in love. 

Tsuneko looks at the display of treats, she prattles off the name of everything that catches her eye. If she’s going to be forced to take a break, possibly earn the ire of Ichinomiya, then she’s going to spend the night stuffing her face and drinking. 

She’s still looking, about to just settle on what she’s picked, when fresh cupcakes are being placed into the display. Soft yellow cake with white meringue frosting, the little placard says lemon chiffon cupcakes. The Hatter would probably like those, given his like of the pie, maybe if she bought a few he’d forgive her for just bailing this morning. 

She starts to look up, meeting soft brown gray eyes. It’s the boy from last time, tucking sweets away into the case. A smile pulls at her lips, seeing a cute familiar face. His face flushes up to the tip of his ears and he jolts to stand up. 

“Do you know her, Rin?” The cashier asks him, smiling as he tries to cover his ears. 

“She’s just the girl who came in here fighting with her boyfriend over cake.”

“Hey,” her face twists in disgust, “he is not-“ 

“Tsuneko, we’re gonna be late, hurry up!” 

“Okay, that’ll be all then.” 

Tsuneko gets out her card as her order is all boxed up, pays, and they head back to the hotel in a hurry. She’s a little upset she couldn’t clear up the misunderstanding about Ichinomiya or grab the cupcakes for the Hatter. 

They make it back to the hotel, Tsuneko hands Chisato the box of macaroons she picked out for Itsuki, tucking the rest into her locker to take home later before heading back to work. The rest of the work day passes by easily enough; a few guests point out she looks sick, but nothing else of note. 

She’s finished the last room on her schedule and takes a deep breath, calming her nerves before she ventures to the auction stage. Her hands wring together, her heart is already racing. 

She counts off seconds to track her breathing as she takes the stairs to the lower level. Tsuneko focuses on her senses, the only way to push through the panic, to stay off those trains of thought. 

The in and out of her breaths, the click of her heels against each step, her uniform clenched under her fists, and her eyes fixed straight ahead. 

Her chest grows tight when the scenery gets more familiar, the path she was pushed along that night. 

Gilded bars, yelling out at strangers who don’t care, fresh blood seeping through her palm and being trapped; memories and phantom sensations flood her brain. 

She digs her nails into the scar on her palm, pain grounding her to reality as she pushes forward towards that stage.  

Her heart beat is like a pounding drum beat in her ears, drowning out every other bit of noise. She can’t even hear herself counting seconds. 

The backstage is a ghost town, not the same bustle of activity. A quick glance up shows her the hook and suspension system that was used to hang her over the stage and bile rises in the back of her throat. 

There’s no gilded birdcage and she wonders if it’s back in storage, is it still stained with her blood or did it get washed off? It must have been someone’s job to mop up her blood and remove all traces of what was done to her. 

Another deep breath and a stab of her nails into her hand, a burst of pain to lead the way onto the actual stage. 

No lights or audience now, just rows upon rows of empty red velvet seats. There’s well over a hundred, maybe closer to five-hundred or so, she’s not sure. It would take her too long to count. 

All of those seats that night were filled, hundreds of people watching her torment with pride. Hundreds of possible buyers, each watching and thinking of just how they could use her if the money was right. 

What if someone else would have bought her? That creepy man from that auction night or god knows who else. She could have ended up in someone’s basement, dead or worse and those people would have just moved on like she’d never been there.  

And for what fucking reason? 

It’s all so fucking senseless. It’s just rich pieces of shit getting together to waste money on things they’re not supposed to have, because it makes them feel special. 

She’s a mess, suffering, struggling, hurt and looking for any escape because a hoard of rich people wanted a thrill. 

She was already fucking up her own life, but apparently not fast enough, because the rich assholes came in to speed the process up. 

Fuck, she can still feel them all looking at her, staring and gawking. Hundreds of people waiting and eager for the chance to hurt her, own her. Her greatest value has been just how much someone’s willing to pay to break her. 

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

The Hatter hums, the sound soft and cheerful in his throat. He’s ventured outside of Wonderland, in search of Cheshire. She’s gone for one of her walks and he’d like to have her back in time for the tea party. The floor where the auctions are held are the furthest he’s willing to stray from his safe haven of Wonderland. That is when they’re not being used for other events. 

He likes the storeroom, looking over every potential item and finding the perfect description. Connecting to the items, letting them tell him their stories. It’s like magic, bringing every little thing to life with nothing but his words. 

He likes being on stage for auctions, performing and everyone’s eyes on him. Seeing their intrigue, how they hang on his every word. He can feel every emotional shift, the impact of his words on every person in the crowd. The stage is his second home after Wonderland. 

But, he can’t say he likes people in any other context, not really. He knows he’s odd, strange and unwanted by everyone’s standards. 

Except Alice’s. 

There’s an extra bounce in his step and his humming gets louder, just the thought of her makes his entire being lights up. 

He waited so long for his Alice, someone who’d accept him. 

He was sad to see her gone this morning, but he knows she has other responsibilities. He’s found his Alice, but she’s not his alone. A part of him, the majority of him, wants her to stay in Wonderland with him forever.  Wonderland is always beautiful, filled with only the best of things, but it seems to brighten up even more when Alice is there. 

For that fact alone, he’ll accept sharing her. He’d rather have her some of the time than none of it. Despite her responsibilities, she always returns and as long as that continues, he can be happy. 

He’s always preferred and sought out eternal joys. Painted roses never wilt, in Wonderland he can have the best parts of life with none of the pain or hurt regular life comes with. But, perhaps he can learn to appreciate more temporary forms of happiness. Maybe cloudy days make the sun shine brighter? 

Maybe going without her just means he’s that much happier when she comes back? 

He’d still prefer to have her forever, the sun, the roses, and everything else beautiful forever. But, some compromises must be made he supposes. 

He finds himself wandering near the auction room, perhaps Cheshire got curious about where he goes for those nights and wanted to investigate it, she’s a curious girl after all. 

The Hatter nearly avoids tripping over the steps to the back stage when the sobs echo from the main stage. He freezes, his entire existence seized in an ice cold grip. Someone else is here. Who else would be here? Should he leave? 

The wails and whimpering cries sound like a mix between a banshee and wounded animal. Pure pain echoing through every noise as he inches close to the curtains, to see who it could be. 

Sitting curled up with knees to her is a woman in a maid uniform, from behind he can see a tied up mess of chocolate brown hair but not a face, despite this he knows who it is. 

“Alice….?” 

She doesn’t respond, just sniveling and whimpering against her own knees. Her body trembles with the force of her cries. He walks closer, her hands are clutched tight to her temples, leaving angry red lines across the skin and knotting her hair. 

Why is she so upset? They had so much fun in Wonderland last night; she should be happy, right? It must be something else; she left Wonderland and got hurt. His heart twists painfully in his chest. If she stayed in Wonderland with him, this wouldn��t happen. 

He gently brings himself down on one knee in front of her and brushes his fingers over one of her hands. That forces a response, Alice jolting like he’s burnt her and the pain in his chest doubles. Why would she not want him to touch her?

She looks up at him, the pain in her heart triples, no quadruples. He can’t keep track, he just knows it hurts. Her face is red and splotchy; her eyes swollen, her nose is running, her lip is quivering, and a waterfall of tears run down her face. 

Wet amaranth eyes stare up at him; she blinks a few more tears join the downpour. He doesn’t like this, seeing her like this, it hurts. There’s a vice grip around his heart. He stares back for a moment, just taking in the pain on her face. He touches her again, placing his hand against her cheek. The warmth of her skin seeps through his gloves and she leans into the touch this time, like she’s desperate for the contact. 

“What’s wrong Alice? Why are you crying?” He asks, a pout on his lips and his head tilting just so. 

“I-uh…” 

Her voice cracks and she breaks eye contact. His Alice isn’t beautiful, not right now, her brightness dimmed by pain. Bile churns in his stomach, he doesn’t like this. Everything is supposed to be happy. Wonderland is meant to be happy, even happier with Alice, but she’s suffering and he doesn’t know why. 

“Your tears are not beautiful.” 

Her entire body tenses, her knees curling closer to her chest, like she’s trying to be smaller.

“What….?” 

Her voice has never sounded so fragile, as if the softest of touches could shatter her very being. 

“They’re like fake diamonds, cheap pearls. I...can’t bear to look at them.”  He looks away from her, grimacing as bile builds in the back of his throat. 

“I-“ 

“Tears do not belong in Wonderland.”

He doesn’t have time to take another breath before she pushes him back onto his butt. Alice rises to her feet and stands over him. He swallows hard staring up at her; her eyes aren’t soft or sad anymore. They’re harsh and angry, his skin feels hot, like the fury and hatred in her is burning through him. 

“Is that what you care about?!” 

He tries scooting further away as she steps closer, feeling like prey about to be devoured. It’s been so long, he almost forgot what it felt like to be looked at with so much hate and disgust.  He can’t speak, every word caught in his throat. Even if he could speak, she has no intention of listening. 

“Well, I’m so fucking sorry, that I can’t be pretty while my life is falling apart. Do you even get that? Or are you so deep in your own bullshit that you can’t even understand that you helped destroy my life!” 

Tears start falling again. She rubs them off, forceful enough to leave red marks across her eyes. She crouches down, hovering over his sprawled out body, so she can look him in the eyes again. There’s a shift, hot rage becoming cold fury. She’s a viper about to strike. 

“You were so excited, weren’t you? That night, when you finally met me, your Alice, the chance to complete your little fantasy, right?” 

Her tone is saccharine and she pauses like she’s waiting for an answer. He nods, softly, unable to speak. 

 “That was one of the worst days of my life,” she snarls at him, “Everyone involved, including you, ruined my life…and no one cares… “ 

Her voice breaks and a fresh outburst of tears make their way down her face. She sniffles and stands up straight before rubbing the heel of her hand to her eyes. 

“Fuck, you’re no better than those penthouse assholes. The only thing you people care about is yourselves; I’m just another person to use. You don’t give a damn about me, the only thing you wanted was someone to play Alice. Someone to feed into your bullshit and look pretty while they do it. That’s all you fuckin’ wanted…and I actually thought- I’m an idiot.”

A heavy sigh escapes her  and with it all the emotion seems to drain, a tired shell standing where Alice once was.  Her heels click against the stage as she turns to leave, heading back off the stage. 

She’s leaving. 

She’s leaving him. 

She’s leaving him and he doesn’t know how to stop her. 

“Ali-!” 

“Tsuneko! For fucks sake, my name is Tsuneko! This is exactly the shit I’m talking about; you can’t just rename me and expect me to fall in line with your fantasy crap! You just do whatever you want, expect everyone to play along, then pout if you don’t get what you want!  There’s a reason you’re alone, dumbass.” 

She disappears back behind the curtain to the backstage, her steps echoing as she leaves. His eyes sting, tears streak down his face and fade his makeup. He tucks his knees under his chin, hugging himself tight. 

He finally found his Alice and he’s already driven her away.  Maybe he was stupid to think anyone would want to stay with him. 

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

The door to Tsuneko’s dorm slams shut behind her and she throws the box of desserts down on her counter, which shakes when her foot collides with it. She screams out and kicks it again, her hands knot and pull at her hair. Her body feels like it’s on fire, tears and anxiety replaced with rage. She knocks her fists against her own skull, the pain and feeling of hurting something even herself is cathartic in the moment. So, she does it again and again. 

She’s an idiot, a fucking idiot. Clinging to the idea that some stranger in makeup gave a damn about her, how could she be so pathetic? The second she was vulnerable, the second she wasn’t pretty enough, the second she wasn’t what he wanted he insulted her. Her tears don’t belong in Wonderland.  She rips open her fridge, she needs alcohol, something to shut her down. 

Tsuneko isn’t supposed to cry when everything is crashing down around her because god forbid she’s ugly for second. She cracks open a bottle of honey flavored vodka, what right does he even have to criticize her appearance? He runs around dressed up in some harlequin Tim Burton costume, but her tears are ugly. 

She takes a heavy swig of her drink; it’s sweet on her tongue and burns down her throat, before putting it aside to get Kiyo out of his cage. It’s best to take care of him before she’s completely out of her mind drunk. She makes sure to keep her movement gentle and steady, coddling him before putting him down. He scurries out, finding a stuffed animal to play with. She cleans up his cage, restocks his food, and water. 

He bounces after her as she walks back to the kitchenette area, bottle in hand. Another gulp and swallow, before she unboxes the goodies. She opens the top of the box with her fruit sponge cake roll and her eyes widen, just next to it in the corner is a little lemon chiffon cupcake. It’s nowhere on her receipts and she knows she didn’t buy it, Rin from the shop must have thrown it in because she was eyeing it. 

She runs a hand back through her hair, tugging out the knots she finds. The cupcakes she wanted to give to the Hatter.  A huff of hair escapes her lips, it’s a sweet gesture on Rin’s part, but it pisses her off.  She swallows down vodka until she needs a breath then puts the desserts away. 

Tsuneko crams the bonus cupcake in her mouth; her feelings keep it from tasting as sweet as it should. But, as long as the Hatter doesn’t have it, she’s fine with it.  Eating a cupcake out of spite, that’s what she’s become. 

She sits down on her little living room floor and washes the cake down with another gulp of vodka. Kiyo plops down in her lap and she idly scratches him as she drinks. 

“Uhhh,” she groans out as the burn of it settles in her stomach, “I’m fuckin’ stupid, you know that Kiyo.” 

He makes a soft dooking noise and chews on her sleeve, she takes another drink. 

“I let him see me like that and I actually thought he’d comfort me, fuckin’ stupid. No one likes a crybaby…Not allowed to cry, can’t break down, can’t be ugly, can’t be pathetic.” 

She takes another drink, her face is starting to flush and she’s nearing the bottom of the bottle. Her head lolls back against the seat of her couch, a soft sigh escapes her lips. 

“I just wanted someone I could be comfortable with even just a little bit, but no. No one wants a crybaby, no one wants a burden.” 

Kiyo nuzzles against her hand and she thinks about the Hatter, alone with only Cheshire as a friend. It’s been just him and Cheshire for four years. It’s just been her and Kiyo for almost one year. He hid himself away in Wonderland away from everyone and he’s desperate to keep his little fantasy world intact, hurting her for it. She thought she could be safe with him…because he’s so disconnected from reality, barely human.

But, that’s wrong to think, isn’t it? 

Of course he’s human and just like every other human; he doesn’t want to deal with her bullshit. To have expected any different, isn’t really fair is it. 

She thinks to this morning. The second there was a chance of seeing him underneath the costume she ran…she didn’t want her part of the fantasy world ruined….

Is she any better than him? 

He doesn’t want to see her ugly; he wants pristine pretty Alice who suits his Wonderland fantasy. She didn’t want to see the real him, she wanted her fake Hatter who couldn’t hurt her. 

And that went to shit real fast. 

But, she never made him behave differently and she never insulted him for not being what she wanted, so she’s not as bad is she? 

Her bottle is empty; she tosses it and grabs a different bottle, marshmallow vodka this time. She takes a few more bottles with her as she gets back to her seat, so she won’t have to move again. 

He didn’t have to insult her, tell her she didn’t belong in Wonderland. But, it’s her fault too. Expecting people to comfort her is ridiculous, she’s an adult and she should know better. Should have just wiped her eyes and moved on.  She needs to be stronger. 

Of course, he’d be disgusted by her. Anyone would be, seeing her sniveling and pathetic.  Expecting him to act any different isn’t fair.  There’s a reason she keeps her guard up, she let it drop and she got hurt, that’s just life. 

There’s a reason she’s alone, too.  

Keeping everyone at arm’s length suits her best; hurts less when they decide they don’t want her anymore. 

People only want someone for as long as they serve a purpose, what that purpose is of course varies from person to person. No one wants to deal with the gross, emotional garbage crap.

The next bottle of vodka is drained before she realizes it and she starts her third soon after. Her thoughts are getting hazier, lighter, the beauty of alcohol.  Only for the night, or however long her vodka fueled stupor lasts, the deep pain in her heart is forgotten. 

Kiyo nudges his hand against her hand, after she’s taken another gulp of chocolate vodka. He’s so sweet, a precious good boy trying to be here for her. She scoops him up in clumsy drunk hands nuzzling her cheek against his head. 

“Ah, you’re suuuuch a good boy,” she kisses his nose, “good boys get kisses.” 

He makes soft noises and she snuggles, giving him more kisses. Her body relaxes against the couch, it’s a shame Kiyo is the only good boy or girl she has around. She doesn’t have anyone else to give- 

Rapid knocks against her dorm door catch her attention, making her glassy eyes go wide.  

“Tsuneko, are you home?”  Sakiko asks from the other side of the door. 

“We came to check on you.” Chisato adds. 

“I’m right here! ~” Tsuneko waves at the door as if they could see her. 

“Uhh, we’re coming in.” 

“Ohhhhhh kaaaaay~” 

Sakiko and Chisato push open the door. They’re both in casual clothes, they look so cute, as they step into her dorm sort of apartment deal. Both of them go wide eyed when they see Tsuneko in her little vodka bottle nest. 

“Hullo, Sakay and Chisaw! ~” Words slosh and slur in her mouth. 

“Tsuneko, how much have you had to drink?” 

“Uhhhhh,” she looks down at the bottles around her, “one….two….threee…five…two…eight, a lot.” 

“This isn’t exactly what we imagined when we told you to take care of yourself,” Sakiko comments as they throw away the empty bottles. 

“Why are you here?”  

“We were worried about you, obviously.” 

Chisato sits down beside her once they’ve cleared away the bottles. Her body is warm and comforting, Tsuneko leans her head against Chisato’s shoulder. The soft scent of fabric softener tickles her nose. 

“Ahhhhhh,” she whines, “you’re toooo nice.” 

“You weren’t even this drunk at your welcome party,” Sakiko says as she takes a seat. 

“Well, Erika got her out of there before she got too bad, why are you nuzzling me?” 

“Mmmm, warm and nice,” Tsuneko mumbles before looking up at Chisato. Tsuneko’s face is completely red, eyes glassy, and her hair a mess. But, Chisato is so pretty, short and tidy blue black hair with warm doe brown eyes. She’s beautiful and nice.   

“Okay, it’s time for-AHHHH!” 

Chisato yells and scrambles backwards when Tsuneko leans over to kiss her. The two of them fall back, Tsuneko still trying to steal a kiss.  Chisato presses her palms against the shorter woman’s shoulders, keeping her and her lips at bay. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“You deserve a kiss! ~” Tsuneko beams, big smile and dimples showing. Why is Chisato so confused? It makes perfect sense. Kisses feel good, Chisato is a good person, and good people deserve good things. 

“I’ll get some from Itsuki, okay?” 

“Buuuuut, I wanna giiiiive kisses?”  

Why doesn’t Chisato want her kisses? Aren’t her kisses good?

“I think that’s enough of that,” Sakiko hooks her hands over Tsuneko’s shoulder and pulls her back toward her chest, away from Chisato. 

Tsuneko cranes her neck to look up at Sakiko, her chest is soft and warm against Tsuneko’s back. Sakiko is pretty too, long brown hair and bright honey brown eyes. She’s nice too, always sweet and bubbly no matter how much Tsuneko picks on her. 

“Why are yo-MMMPH!” 

Tsuneko’s lips muffle Sakiko’s question, she’s managed to twist around and throw her arms around Sakiko’s neck.  Her tongue slides in easily, rubbing against Sakiko’s as she deepens it. Tsuneko shifts and pushes against the sober woman’s lips, they’re soft and her mouth still tastes faintly of sweets. A small noise, a cute soft moan, escapes the back of Sakiko’s throat and she grabs at Tsuneko’s shirt. Whether the gesture is meant to dissuade Tsuneko or anchor herself, is unclear. 

The drunk half of the pair isn’t deterred, she’s intent on tasting every part of Sakiko’s mouth, delivering her reward. She tastes sweet, she’s soft, and it all feels so nice. That’s all Tsuneko wants, to feel good and make someone else feel good. She tilts and moves her lips against Sakiko’s, finding new angles to work her tongue in deeper and find any little spot she hasn’t run her tongue over yet. 

A different pair of hands grab Tsuneko’s shoulders and yanks her back, disconnecting her and Sakiko’s lips. Tsuneko’s eyes open at the loss of contact, Sakiko is still on the floor, seemingly frozen. Her face is a vivid red, honey brown eyes glazed over, and her lips are spit slick. She looks so pretty and needs more kisses, Tsuneko decides in her drunken haze. But, she’s being held back by Chisato.  

“Uhhh, Sakiko, you okay?” Chisato asks, voice soft and close to Tsuneko’s ear in this position. It’s pleasant, but it would probably sound even nicer if she was moaning like Sakiko did. When Tsuneko goes to twist around in order to steal a kiss from her other friend, she finds Chisato’s hands are gripping too tight for her to maneuver. 

“Um, uh,” Sakiko stutters and blinks, touching her slightly swollen lips, “fuck.” 

“Earth to Sakiko? You okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, um, I’m just shocked,” her voice cracks. 

“Okay…?” Chisato grins, “Are you still straight?” 

“Um, uh, I’ll get back to you on that one.” 

“Ahhhhh, I want more kisses,” Tsuneko whines as Chisato drags her towards her bed. 

“No more kisses, Tsuneko, you’re confusing the straights.” 

“Buuuuut, I wanna kiss pretty girls! ~” 

“I get that, but no more kisses tonight.” Chisato clumsily puts Tsuneko into her bed, pulling a blanket over her. 

Her bed is warm and soft, nice, it feels so nice. Tsuneko pulls her pillow close to her face nuzzling against it.  Her eyelids and limbs feel heavy, Chisato’s voice becomes a murmur of white noise before fading away into silence. 

Warm light on her face and a dull pain in her head is what wakes Tsuneko up.  She yawns and swallows, her mouth is dry. A few blinks help clear her vision and she sees a glass of water on her side table with aspirin next to it. That’s right, she groans into her pillow, Chisato and Sakiko came in while she was drunk last night. 

She swallows the pills and gulps down the water, before she falls back onto her bed. It’s her warm and snuggly safe haven at the moment.   Physically, she feels better after getting some decent sleep. Long easy sleeps are few and far between for her, alcohol is the easiest way to kill any dreams. But, the entire situation still makes her sick mentally and emotionally. 

She knows she was too cruel with the Hatter, lashing out like a wounded animal. But, that doesn’t change the fact that any semblance of a friendship she thought could be built with him is gone. Any hopes she had of letting her guard down around him have been shot to shit. He was still an asshole and no matter how she looks at it, he saw her tragedy as a chance to benefit. 

But, she was using his little fantasy character to make herself feel better, to give herself a safe place. Isn’t that kind of taking advantage of his mental illness, or problems at the very least, for her benefit? 

Ugh, she doesn’t want to think, that’s the whole reason she was drinking. Her memories of last night are fuzzy, as always. She knows Chisato and Sakiko showed up, already an awful thing. Tsuneko is a messy drunk and doesn’t like other people seeing her like that. She closes her eyes and thinks on it for a bit, foggy memories of Sakiko’s lips and the sweet taste of her mouth, the warmth of her body. 

“Ahhh!” 

Heat shoots up Tsuneko’s face and she burrows into her pillow. She kissed Sakiko, on top of all of this bullshit, she kissed Sakiko. She must be furious. Tsuneko not only acted like a pathetic loser, she was super gross and forced a kiss a Sakiko.  

She grabs her phone off the charger, bringing it under the blankets with her, back into warm safety. Sakiko and Chisato would be at work, she sends quick apologies. She seems to be apologizing a lot lately, a heavy sigh escapes her. Additionally, Shinobu still hasn’t texted her back. He’s never gone this long without talking to her, maybe he’s finally sick of her. 

“Ugh.” 

She tosses her phone until the floor, sick of looking at it, and looks into Kiyo’s cage from her bed.  He’s sleeping, food and water still filled. At this point it feels like Chisato and Sakiko take better care of him than her. She’s beyond fucking useless. 

Another groan and sigh slip out as she burrows back into her nest of comfort. This is supposed to be a self-care day, or some shit. 

Tsuneko only knows a couple coping mechanisms for when she's desperately trying to shut off her brain. It's too early for more alcohol, plus she has to work tonight. Eating her emotions is nice, but she'd have to get up out of bed to raid her fridge, which sounds like a fate worse than death at the moment. Same thing with going for a run or going to a nearby gym. Her other favorite coping mechanism keeps coming to mind. 

Drowning her brain in pleasure sounds a lot better than driving herself insane for the rest of her down time. Her body already feels primed for, alcohol turns her on enough to demand make out sessions, but she always wakes up feeling like her body wanted more.

She pulls her favorite soft pink body pillow under her, wrapping herself around it. Her sleep clothes are thin. The seam of the pillow case is thicker and presses against her sex through the fabric of her shorts. She's already a little wet and the first grind of her hips against the pillow sends a jolt of pleasure through her body. 

Her fingers tighten around the pillowcase and she buries her face into the plush of it. She can almost imagine she's grinding against someone, hot friction against her swollen clit. 

A little imagination is all it takes to feel like there's someone underneath her. Her mind turns the plush of a pillow into the firmness of a body, the thick seam into the grind of someone's hardening cock. Her hips hump harder, a steady pleasure building between her thighs and tension winding tight in her stomach. 

She can envision her nails digging into someone's back, firm muscle instead of soft give. Pants and whines of pleasure muffle against her pillow. Her entire body feels hot, sweat beading across her skin, the heat amplified by the blanket covering her.

Her nipples rub against the pillow, her tank falling off her shoulders and revealing more of her. She can almost convince herself her chest is rubbing against someone else's, firmer than her own. 

The fantasy partner in her head grows clearer and clearer with every frantic grind of her hips. Someone much taller, hard muscle where she's soft squish. She can just picture, a man beneath her, letting out low groans, as she grinds her slick cunt against him. 

Dark hair falling into his face as sweat makes a mess of it, a flush over his handsome face, dark stormy blue eyes shut tight as she-

"Ahh!"

She kicks her pillow away like it's burned her, realization of who her fantasy man was hits her like ice water. 

Oh, the man who threatened her with a gun.

She was actually fantasizing about grinding on the cock of a sexist asshole who was going to shoot her over candy. 

No, no, no. 

Tsuneko scrambles from the bed, she's not that fucked in the head. She can't help he's attractive and if anything it's his fault for taking his shirt off in front of her that first night. He’s confused her damn brain; it's getting it's fear and lust wires crossed.

She needs an ice cold shower, something to clear her mind and cool her libido. The sound of an engine, closer to the dormitories than usual catches her attention before she can reach the bathroom. She pushes up her window and peeks out, what’s going on? From her window she can look down at the backlot of the Tres Spades. 

There’s a truck just outside the back entrance, parked but the engine running. The back trailer is open with a ramp. Two men loading items onto it, she can’t clearly see everything from her vantage point.  Something glints, catching the sunlight and her heart drops. A bronze goddess statue that she’d recognize anywhere, the one with a nice rack that he showed her. Why are they loading up his stuff?

She barely has enough sense to grab her phone and shove on sneakers before she’s out the door. The elevator is too slow, she runs down the stairs jumping over several steps at a time desperate to reach the lot as soon as possible. She narrowly avoids tripping as she leaves the dormitory. 

The truck trailer is closed and it’s pulls out with wheels squealing just as she reaches the lot. She tries to take a picture of the license plate. It drives off too fast for her eyes to catch it and when she checks the photo it’s too blurry. She curses under her breath as she darts into the hotel. 

The Mad Hatter rarely leaves Wonderland, which means he must have run into those people. Did they hurt him? Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

She cuts a path to the stairs and sprints down towards Wonderland. Her foot catches on the second to final step and she goes tumbling forward, she manages to break her fall with her hands. An ache goes through her hand, but she rushes back to her feet and keeps running.

Her heart rabbits in her chest as she throws open the door to Wonderland. It’s a whiplash of relief than pain when she sees the Hatter is safe then sees the look of pain on his face. He’s sitting curled up in his chair with his knees to his chest, completely despondent, the tea room is now practically barren aside from the table and chairs. Cheshire is standing near him, mewling softly. 

“Hey,” Tsuneko calls out as she rushes near him, “hey, talk to me.” 

She crouches down in front of him, trying to make contact and get him to talk to her. His eyes are sad and there’s a pang in her heart. 

“Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?” 

He slowly shakes his head no, at least some sort of response. She chews her lip, they need to try and get this figured out. There are security cameras near the backlot, around the majority of the hotel. It might have gotten a clearer look at the truck. 

She dials up Kenzaki’s phone number, her phone has a few more scuffs from her fall, at this rate it won’t be long until she needs a new one. It takes a few rings, but finally Kenzaki answers her. 

“Tomori, is something wrong?” His calm complacent voice greets her. 

“Yeah, um, the guest in the tea room,” Tsuneko chooses her words carefully,  “he was just robbed, I saw them leaving the backlot. We have security camera there, right?” 

“Hmm, that is concerning. Yes, we do, but I’ll have to contact Mr. Ichinomiya about this.” 

“Uh, oh, I don’t think-“ 

The phone clicks as Kenzaki hangs up on her, great, now she has to deal with Ichinomiya. She lets out a heavy sigh, the Hatter’s artificially blue eyes are looking at her. There’s a mixture of pain and curiosity in her eyes. Just yesterday, she was tearing him down and now she’s trying to help him.  She has to be giving the poor man whiplash from hell. 

She’s still not quite ready to apologize for her outburst yesterday, especially considering he hasn’t apologized for his own comment.  But, that’s not the most important thing right now. Regardless of how she feels about the Hatter, this is wrong; no one has a right to just take his things. Even if she truly hated him, she wouldn’t want him to suffer through this alone. As recent a development as it might be, she does have some empathy. She grabs a chair and pulls it up to sit next to him. 

“Okay, sweetie,” she talks low and calmly, like she’s speaking to a child, “do you know who the people were that took your stuff?” 

“The Dormouse and March Hare…” 

Heat simmers under her skin, she’s not sure how long those two had been here, but they were here before her. They must have just been waiting for a good chance to take everything from him. The Hatter saw them as friends too, despite their despondent nature, he saw them as crucial characters in his Wonderland. He must have. And then the assholes go and rob him. 

“This is why you never trust a furry,” she tries to joke, not even earning a smile from the Hatter, “or at least not the half-assed ones. I mean if you’re gonna be a furry commit, right?” 

He looks up at her from his curled up position and she gives him a little smile, hoping to get him to crack up even a little bit. He’s usually so jovial, but between her verbal assaults yesterday and this, it feels like he does nothing but frown lately. After a moment, a soft smile pulls at his painted lips. 

‘That’s better, now, do you know what the Dormouse and March Hare’s real names are, outside of Wonderland?” 

He shakes his head no and her breath catches in her throat, he doesn’t know who those people really are? At all? This entire time he’s allowed strangers into Wonderland and just trusted them not to hurt him… He really is like a child, who puts that kind of blind trust in strangers?

“Sweetie, how exactly did you meet them?” 

“They were selling dropping off items meant to sell at the auction, I offered them roles in Wonderland.” 

“And they just accepted…?” 

“I offered them payment.” 

“You were paying them to be here?”  

She bites her lip, that’s so fucking reckless. The fuckers must have gotten greedy and decided they wanted more, so they robbed him blind. They saw someone vulnerable and they jumped to take advantage. She runs a hand through her tangled mess of hair. 

“Look, you can’t ju-“ 

“What’s going on here?” 

Tsuneko’s nose wrinkles, her face contorting in disgust at that familiar voice. She managed to be free of him for a whole day and she wishes nothing more than to have stretched that time out longer. 

She tucks a strand of hair back behind her ear and crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly aware of how thin her pajama shirt is. Ichinomiya strides into the room and the other penthouse guests trail after, why are they all there? She avoids looking at Oh, given recent…events. 

“He was robbed, I saw the truck leave with his stuff, but I couldn’t get a look at the license plate.” 

“And you were here, dressed like that?” Kisaki is the one to pipe up, staring at Tsuneko’s outfit. 

She wishes she would have had the foresight to at least grab a jacket. Her white top is cropped, white, low-cut, and her lack of a bra isn’t doing her much favors. The pajama shorts are embarrassing in a whole different way, pink gingham and little strawberries decorating them. Her face burns hot with shame, but there's something far more important to worry about. 

“I have the later shift; I was at home when I saw them taking his stuff from my window. Somehow trying to stop a robbery was more important than throwing on jeans.” 

“And we’re all blessed for it,” Baba says with a wink and her stomach churns. 

“If we could shift our focus from my tits to the crime that’s been committed, that’d be great.” 

“Who would have been able to rob him?” Oh asks, his disdain for all things feminine working in her favor at the moment. 

“Guys who were part of the whole Wonderland spiel. He doesn’t know their names, though.” 

“What did they even take?” 

Kisaki is poking around looking into rooms, his face contorted into disgust, over what she’s not sure. His face is particularly punchable at the moment. 

“They took the decoration for the tea party and the stuff from my room…” 

“Is that all?” 

Ichinomiya’s voice is harsh and cuts like a knife, what little bit of happiness had returned to the Hatter’s eyes leaves. Her nails dig into her arms. 

“Seriously, he’s just been robbed and you wanna be an asshole?” 

Ichinomiya meets her glare, neither breaking eye contact. 

“And what would you suggest I do?” His condescending tone makes her nails dig harder into her skin. 

“Literally anything, you have security cameras for a fucking reason. Figure out who took his shit, get it back. Be nice for half a second, something.” 

“If it was serious enough, he knows how to contact me.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re just so easy to talk to.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“What would have happened if I didn’t see them taking his stuff away? Would you have ever found out?” 

“I’m not his babysitter.” 

“Really, that’s what you’re going with?!” She stands from her chair, nearly knocking it over and clenching her fist tight as she glares at him, “What if he got hurt? Just gonna find him down here dead, next time you needed him?” 

“Pff,” he scoffs, “you’re being dramatic.” 

“Am I? Do you know who those men were, ‘cause he sure as hell doesn’t! All he knows is that they were involved in one of your auctions.  So, you know, real stand up guys. I mean the men who sold me were just so kind when they bashed my skull against the ground and threw me in a cage, I’m sure no one like that would hurt him!” 

Her throat feels raw and Ichinomiya breaks eye contact for a moment. Whether because of annoyance or she’s managed to actually break through his thick skull, she can’t be sure. After a moment his eyes meet hers again and steps forward. She meets his gaze and stands her ground. 

“I have more important things to do than watch him every second.”  

“So, you’re just too damn busy to keep an eye on who’s in your hotel. What if they had gone upstairs, robbed some guests while they were at it! Or, maybe since they know about the auctions, they manage to get into the storeroom and steal some shit from there! How careless can you be?!” 

“You sound like parents arguing over how to raise a child,” Baba teases and bile rises in the back of Tsuneko’s throat.  Kisaki snickers and Kishi chuckles, Oh even looks vaguely amused by the comment. 

“Gross.” 

“Enough of this,” Ichinomiya sneers, “we’re having a dinner meeting with the Buccis, now go make yourself presentable. If you’re capable of that.” 

He starts to stride out of the room and Tsuneko groans, gritting her teeth and clenching her fist tighter. 

“Seriously!? You aren’t going to do anything!?” 

“Don’t waste your time worrying about this, be ready in ten minutes.”  

He leaves the room and Tsuneko pinches the bridge of her nose. Is he serious? His event matters more than the Hatter being robbed? Oh’s gray suit passes by in her peripheral and she focuses her eyes on the ground. 

“What a waste of time.” He scoffs before leaving the room and Tsuneko bites her lip, they don’t even care about one of their own. 

“I’m not staying in this creepy place for another second.” 

Kisaki leaves and Tsuneko flinches as Baba puts a hand on her shoulder;why is he touching her?

“Don’t worry, just go ahead and get ready pretty lady,” he tells her before leaving and Kishi starts to follow after. 

“Aren’t you a cop!?”  

“Not my department.” 

And just like that, the Hatter and her are left alone in Wonderland. She wants to scream, do they seriously not care? He’s a part of their little group, even if only tangentially, then again she’s not sure how much they all even care for each other. Baba and Kisaki are clear friends, same for Oh and Ichinomiya. Kishi and the Hatter are outliers. The Hatter is the weird man in the basement that none of them seem to bother with until they need him to host auctions. Kishi is some boring old guy who sleeps up there and…he has to have contributed something at some point, she assumes. 

“Okay,” she spins on her feels to look at the Hatter, “they’re useless, but I’m going to try and get this sorted.” 

“But…you have to help Eisuke.”

“Unfortunately, yes, as much as I wanna skip out on, that would be breaking our bet. But, I will be finished with that at some point. And in the meantime I need you to do something.” 

His eyes widen and blink a few times. He tilts his head as she rummages around Wonderland, finding pen and paper in his room. 

“While I’m dealing with his bullshit, I want you to write down everything you can think of that you know about the March Hare and Dormouse. The date you met them, what items they were selling that night, anything. Can you do that for me?” 

“Yeah…I can do that.” 

He nods and starts writing stuff down. Tsuneko’s heart feels heavy and she has to resist the temptation to hug him. She needs to get this figured out for him. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.” 

“Promise?” He offers his pinky finger and she hooks her own around it. 

“Promise.” 

She reluctantly leaves the Hatter alone in Wonderland and ventures back to her dorm. Tsuneko showers and throws together an event outfit as quick as possible before heading back to the hotel 

Her brain keeps straying back to the Hatter and the robbery; if she had gotten out of bed sooner maybe she would have caught them? Maybe, if she’s lucky Kenzaki will let her look at security camera footage. But, even if she did what could she do about it? Would filing a police report even be an option? They’d probably question a strange Hatter in the hotel basement and it could lead to them discovering the auctions which are a whole different kind of shit show. Maybe, she can pretend it’s her stuff that was stolen? 

“You’re late.” The curt voice of Ichinomiya makes her stop outside the hotel, in front of his limousine. 

“You’re not wrong.” 

Tsuneko shrugs, her mind still wandering, and Ichinomiya sighs. 

“Ridiculous.” 

Then he’s in her space, the scent of his cologne tickles her nose and his hands are gripping her blazer, pushing it off her shoulders.  His hands are warm where they brush against her skin, heat floods her face. 

“Hey!? What are you doing!?” 

“It’s inside out, do you not even know how to dress yourself?” Ichinomiya sneers as he takes off her jacket, sure enough it’s inside out. Her face flushes a deeper red and she fiddles with her earring.

“I wasn’t paying attention, shut up,” 

She reaches out to grab the blazer back, but he lifts it above her head and she stumbles forward, nearly falling into his chest as she tries to reach it. He smirks at her feeble attempt to get it back. 

“It looks better without it.” 

“Fine, whatever.” 

She rolls her eyes and starts to move away when he places his other hand on her hip, pulling her tighter against him. Tsuneko presses her hand against his ribs, trying to increase the distance. 

“Having fun, you two?” 

Mr. Bucci’s voice rings out and Tsuneko is finally able to squirm away from the smirking Ichinomiya. Mr. Bucci is smiling pleasantly while Carolina is glaring daggers at her. 

“Sorry about that,” Ichinomiya says, not a hint of remorse in his voice. 

He opens the limousine the door, putting her blazer out of the way, before keeping the door open for the rest of them to file in. Ichinomiya slides into his seat, close beside her. She tries to make herself smaller and avoid any contact. He hands her his tablet, fingers stroking over her wrist as he asks her to take notes for the night.

“So, what were you two talking about earlier?” Mr. Bucci asks with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, like he’d caught two lovers flirting. Meanwhile Carolina is glaring at her in disgust, fair enough, the thought disgusts Tsuneko just as much. 

“Nothing much, I had to correct a minor wardrobe issue, it would have been done sooner but she was running a little late.” 

Tsuneko glares at him; he didn’t miss a chance to throw her under the bus, that’s for sure. 

“Can’t dress herself or be on time, you should just fire her already,” Carolina huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“That reminds me,” Ichinomiya reaches into his jacket and produces a neatly wrapped box, “a gift to thank you for all your hard work, Tsuneko.” 

Tsuneko narrows her eyes, he’s laying it on thick and she forces a smile as she takes the box. He watches her with that fake soft look as she opens up the box, the cat shaped watch she was looking at during the shopping trip with Carolina.  The band is a soft pink color and the metal is a rose gold. It’s cute but subtly so. 

“I saw you looking at it the other day; I figured it’d be practical as well.” 

“You’re too nice,” Tsuneko forces a smile but she’s glaring, “I couldn’t possibly-“ 

“It’s the least I can do for all the work you do for me.” 

If she doesn’t accept it, he’ll give her hell, this is all for his business agenda. She murmurs half hearted thanks as Ichinomiya fastens it around her wrist, making a point of skimming his fingers across her skin. Every bit of contact makes her want to lash out. They’re sitting in the back of a limousine with Ichinomiya making fake goo-goo eyes at her while the Hatter is sitting in Wonderland hurt and suffering. 

She’s not sure what the relationship between the Hatter and the other bidders is exactly, but shouldn’t he come before some networking event. Carolina is still glaring as Ichinomiya steers the conversation with Mr. Bucci back to business. 

Tsuneko tries to stay present enough to keep coherent notes, but they’re less detailed than last time. Her mind continually wanders back to the Hatter and what she can do about getting his stuff back. 

She’s sleepwalking through the rest of the evening, she’s just focused enough to do what’s asked of her, but she doesn’t talk or respond unless absolutely needed. She tries not to bristle or avoid Ichinomiya’s fake lovey dovey too much, so not to earn any extra ire. Tsuneko doesn’t properly taste any of the food as they go through the dinner, running completely on autopilot. Mr. Bucci and Ichinomiya prattle on about business while Carolina glares daggers, getting in occasional insults at Tsuneko’s expense. Her brain continuously wanders back to the Hatter. 

What if she can’t get anything back for him? 

What if those robbers come back? What if he gets hurt?

She’s running through every what if and disastrous possibility and before she knows it the dinner is coming to a close and they’re all leaving the restaurant. 

“Oooh,” Carolina’s eyes go wide at the sight of a designer store, “c’mon Eisuke, you can pick me out another dress!”

“I’m afraid that I have work to do back at the hotel, so Tsuneko and I will have to end the evening here. But, I’ll arrange for my driver to come back when you’ve finished your shopping.”

“Understood,” Mr. Bucci says despite Carolina’s pouting. 

They go off into the store and Ichinomiya opens the limousine door for Tsuneko to slide in. He follows suit and the second the door has closed his fake smile falls away. Hazel eyes glare at Tsuneko, she digs her nails into her thighs as the car starts to move. 

“That was pathetic.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“A brick wall had more personality than you tonight.” 

“Are you actually complaining about me being quiet?” 

“Your moping ruined the evening for everyone, are you still worrying about the Hatter?” 

“Yes, obviously! While we’re eating some five star meal, he’s down in the basement scared, hurt, and miserable!”

“He’s an adult, he’ll be fine. I’m not going to stop everything for one incident.” 

“I’m not asking you to stop everything, you dramatic fuck. I asked you do something, anything! I asked for the bare minimum and you still disappointed me!” 

“I disappointed, you? Who do you think you are?” 

“Someone who’s disappointed in you,” he huffs and looks away, “have you even thought about him this entire time? Those people know where he is, what if they come back, what if they hurt him?!” 

“Working yourself up into a panic attack won’t help anything.” 

“I’m well aware of that, so why the fuck, aren’t we there doing something that will help? Oh wait, because all you care about is your own business!” 

“Yes, my business is more important than a few trinkets being stolen from the Hatter.” 

“It’s not just what’s been stolen; did you see how hurt he was? He’s in a bad place and you don’t give a shit. God, I knew you were a jackass, but don’t you have an ounce of empathy?” 

She rakes a hand through her hair and sighs. Ichinomiya doesn’t respond now, but the frustration and anger radiates off of him. Tsuneko understands that he needs to make money and run his company, but he just dismissed the Hatter without another thought. He could have worked something out, done something. But, no, nothing, not a single shred of kindness or empathy. The Hatter was already in a bad place, thanks to her lashing out, she thinks back to the hurt look he had as she tore into him. At the time she didn’t care, but now it’s eating her alive. 

She’s hurt a lot of people in her life. She doesn’t want to do that anymore. What the Hatter said still hurts her, that he saw her vulnerable and decided to tear her down further. But, her reaction wasn’t right either. He called her an ugly crier and she tore apart his entire being. Someone pinched her and she tried to rip their throat out. 

 Tsuneko notices a few familiar buildings passing by the limousine, they’re near Parole and she remembers the lemon chiffon cupcakes, maybe those would lift the Hatter’s mood? 

“Hey, can you stop up here?” Tsuneko asks the driver. 

“What are you doing?” Ichinomiya gives her that all too familiar look of annoyance. 

“I need to go to the bakery.” 

“We just had dinner, are you that much of a glutton?”

“Just stop the fucking car.” Tsuneko’s voice is clipped, he’s such an asshole. 

She swings the door opens and hops out before the car has come to a complete stop, but close enough and rushes to get in before they close. All she wants to do is something nice for the Hatter, even a little thing that might brighten up his garbage day. 

The cute guy, Rin, is behind the counter when she comes in. He raises an eyebrow at her as she rushes over.

“You’re cutting it close again,” he comments.

“I know, I’m sorry. Do you have any more of the lemon chiffon cupcakes?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Great, can I get like a dozen of those?” 

“Sure, you must have really liked them,” he says as he starts packing the sweets away in a box.

“They’re for my…” what exactly is the Hatter? No word she thinks of feels right, friend is too familiar. Acquaintance or someone she knows from work are too distant, “there for someone, he’s had a bad day.” 

“I don’t really care,” he tells her as he rings it up, is everyone an asshole? She thinks for a moment and decides to add an iced frappuccino concoction, extra sweet stuff. Maybe that will lower Ichinomiya’s asshole threshold and he’ll be more likely to help the Hatter, catch more flies with honey and all that. She’s not fond of the idea of extending an olive branch to that man and perhaps it’s more manipulative than peaceful. 

“Well, thanks for putting up with me coming in late all the time.” 

She pays for the order and picks up the large box; these should bring a smile to the Hatter’s face if nothing else. 

“You remind me of someone,” Rin says suddenly, staring at her for a moment. 

“Really, who?” 

“This stray calico cat that’s always here begging for food and is always fighting the bigger cats.” 

Tsuneko’s face falls, Kisaki compares her to a dog and he compares her to a stray cat, what kind of bullshit is this?

“You’re no longer cute.” 

His face flushes red up to his ears again and he tries to cover them, irritation clear. 

“I’ve never been cute, shut up.” 

“Are you done wasting my time?” 

Ichinomiya’s voice makes her jolt, he’s standing in the doorway and glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest. Everything about his body language makes her blood boil, she’s been here maybe five minutes. 

“Yeah, I’m done, asshole.” 

The insult makes Ichinomiya rolls his eyes and leave the store, she follows after him after waving a bye to Rin. The door nearly hits her in the face where she’s carrying the box and drink. Ichinomiya is walking away to where the car is parked, no concern for her. 

“Do you have to be so impatient?” 

“I don’t have the time or desire to watch you flirt.” He doesn’t bother to turn around, like she’s not even worth the energy to do so. 

“I was trying to buy something for the Hatter, because I want to make him feel better, god why are you such an asshole!?” 

“I don’t owe you any explanation.” 

“Can you at least turn around and talk to me, if you’re gonna be a dick!” 

“Go back to being quiet, you were less annoying.” 

“You know I got this drink for you, right? As a peace offering.”  Her nails dig against the cup. 

“Pfft, are you so stupid you think I can be won over with a drink, pathetic.” 

“My mistake,” she says before throwing it at the back of his head. 

He freezes in place as it bust into a mess; whip cream, chocolate, and iced coffee slush matting in his hair before running down the back of his fancy suit. She’s reaching into the box for a cupcake as he starts to turn around. 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” 

The dessert splatters against his chest as the question ends. Whip cream from the drink somehow made it into his bangs, threatening to drip into his glaring eyes. 

“I’m sick of your shit,” she tosses another cupcake, smashing against his cheek before he can smack it away, “you’re a condescending rude asshole!”

“Are you done with your tantrum?” 

“Don’t patronize me!” 

"You're a child," he spits back.

"You're a selfish prat, all you care about is your damn self!"

"Maybe so, but I won’t stand for you trying to make me look like an idiot.” 

"Yeah, I'm just humiliating you in front of everyone," she gestures at the empty streets, "you know, maybe it's my fault for actually expecting better from you! I should have known that someone who bought me can't show kindness to anyone, even the people in his little fucked up circle."

"Is that how you see it?"

He steps closer, glaring her down. He'd be intimidating if not for the mess of icing and whip cream smeared over his face.

"Yeah, that's how I fucking see it. You're nothing but a heartless bastard."

"Believe it or not, buying you was a kindness," he's in her space, looming over her, "do you know what kind of people could have purchased you that night?"

"I-"

His hand on her chin cuts off her words, his nails pressing into her skin as he keeps her head in place. He leans his own down, keeping eye contact. A panicky thought he might be trying to kiss her rushes through her brain. But he stops just before their noses touch, his breath hot on her face.

"Would you have been happier in some pervert’s cellar?” he pauses for a moment, “You should be thankful, I found you pitiful enough to help."

"But not pitiful enough to let me go free."

"I'm not stupid enough to throw away things I can find a use for."

"Don't act like you gave a shit about saving me that night. I don't buy it. I could drop dead tomorrow and all you'd care about is your precious little deal."

She smacks his hand away from her face and walks off, she's done with this. He seriously wants to act like he's some fucking savior, he's the reason her life has gone to such shit lately.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm walking back to the hotel."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Fuck off."

She ignores anything else he says and starts heading towards the hotel. There's a hum of an engine and slowly she sees Ichinomiya's limousine driving at a snail’s pace so the back of the car is beside her as she walks. The window rolls down, messy Ichinomiya glaring at her.

"Enough of this, get in the car."

She throws another cupcake, but he rolls up the window before it can hit him, coating the fancy car's door and glass. It rolls back down smearing and streaking the mess.

"Fine, be stubborn."

The window goes back up and the limousine drives off. Such an asshole.

Her feet are aching and she pulling off her heels to walk barefoot when she reaches the back lot. The walk isn't that far but in high heels it takes longer and leaves her with blisters.

She hobbles down the stairs to the sub-basement and knocks on the door to Wonderland.

No answer.

She knocks again, harder and faster. Her throat is tight.

No answer.

Did those people come back? Could he be hurt?

She wrenches the door open and pushes her way in.

"I'm coming in, are you-"

Her yells die in her throat as she lays eyes on a startled man. A towel around his waist, water clinging to the exposed skin. His thick dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, but the style is mostly familiar, as is his height, thin figure, and he's around the same age...as the Hatter. His dark eyes are wide as he stares at her.

Then he's gone. 

[robinrunsfiction]

The Fantastic Adventures of Glitter Ghost and Killer Lux - Chapter 4

Co Written with @mariawritesfanfic

When Novocaine and Phoenix came back that evening, they had more supplies and Glitter jumped at the opportunity to help unload after a long, uneventful afternoon.

"We don't know how long we will be together, but we needed them anyways," Phoenix explained.

 "You know we don't mean to stay this long, as soon as our car is ready, we will be out of y'all's hair."

Novocaine sighed, "I know this must be difficult for you and Lux." He set down the box of Power Pup he had been unloading and looked at Glitter. "Please know that we are all in this together, no one hates BLI more than us."

"Thanks, 'Caine. This has been an odd and stressful situation for sure."

"'Caine?" Novocaine gave Glitter an odd look. "I didn't know we were at the nickname stage already," he laughed.

"Well, I mean you did get me super drunk for the first time in years, I feel like we have a bond," Glitter laughed. She turned back to the boxes in front of her. "I don't know about Lux, but I know I wish I could do more around here besides clean, train, and feel like I'm in everyone's way." 

"You aren't in anyone's way. Your training also has really been helpful," Phoenix replied as he pulled Glitter in for a hug.

"Thanks," Glitter smiled at Phoenix when they pulled back.

"Well, if you are going to be sweet to Phoenix, where's my hug, Sweetness?" Novocaine laughed.

"'Sweetness'?" Glitter laughed as she gave Novocaine a hug. "I guess you could call me worse."

Later that night, Glitter was sitting on her cot, repairing a tear in the lining of Lux's jacket. "So, are you ready to talk about everything with Neon Princess?"

Lux was sitting on her cot, flipping through the newspapers that Kobra had given her. "Not really," she replied without looking up.

"Don't you lie to me. I know how you feel about Kobra." Glitter looked up suddenly as a realization struck her. "Wait, were you worried that Kobra would like her more than you?" 

When Lux didn't look up but pulled the paper higher to hide her face, Glitter came and sat next to her. "Lux, love, you can't be serious. Kobra wasn't going to go running off with her right there. He wouldn't give up all of this," Glitter motioned around to Lux and the diner. "He's a 'joy through and through and would never be seen with someone related to BLI."

Lux finally looked up at Glitter. "So, what was that thing with you, Phoenix and Novocaine earlier? The three of you looked very cozy." Lux wiggled her eyebrows at Glitter.

"What thing?" Glitter asked, very confused.

"I was walking past the supply room, and I saw you guys hugging."

"Pfft, that's nothing. We were talking about how I was feeling." Glitter could feel Lux staring intensely at her. "It really was nothing!" Glitter tossed Lux's coat at her. "There, it's all fixed. Maybe next time don't wait until it's large for me to fix it."

"You're the best… Sweetness," she said with a cocky grin.

~

It had been another quiet afternoon around the diner. Party and Jet had decided to take the day off from working on the car. The sun wasn't getting high in the sky as often, so it was comfortable to be outside most of the day. Suddenly the roar of an engine could be heard as Novocaine and Phoenix sped up to the diner in their Impala, kicking up dust and dirt as they got out of the car and hurried over to the group that assembled upon hearing the commotion.

"Have you heard Dr. D's report?" Phoenix asked breathlessly.

"We didn't know he was back up," Sandman replied. 

"He is, and you two are fucked," Novocaine said, pointing at Lux and Glitter and they looked at each other, confused and concerned. 

"What are you talking about?" Glitter asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"You two are BLI's most wanted right now. They're gonna stop at nothing to get the 'two female Killjoys' that destroyed their research lab," Phoenix replied.

"But they don't know it's us, I mean, there are other girl gangs-" Lux started.

"They have your description," Novocaine cut her off. 

"Weren't you wearing your mask?" Party asked Lux. 

"I was trying to convince them I wanted to get away, why would I be wearing a Killjoy mask? Besides everything was destroyed!"

"The cameras probably have live feedback to a remote server," Jet said quietly. 

"Fuck," Lux muttered, suddenly feeling like she was going to be sick. She sat down at the nearest picnic table as her legs didn't feel like they were going to support her much longer. 

"We'll get the car running again, and go deep into hiding until this dies down," Glitter said.

"If BLI is looking for Lux, they're looking for you too," Sandman argued. "I have an idea that just might work, but you guys might not like it. What if we split you two up?"

"What?" Lux gasped as she looked to Glitter. She hadn't been apart from Glitter for more than a few hours at a time. 

"Glitter can come with us, our shelter isn't quite as good as the diner, but since they don't know they're looking for her, it will be ok," Sandman suggested. 

"We'll keep you safe here, Lux," Party said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Lux wanted to argue, to say no, she didn't want this, but before she could open her mouth, Fun Ghoul rounded the corner of the building.

"Check this out!" He said, setting down what looked like a small bomb and running the safe distance to the assembled group. After a few moments, there was a loud bang, and through a cloud of smoke, Glitter began twinkling and shimmering across the sky.

"You're right, Glitter, that's fucking rad!" Ghoul laughed, not noticing the looks of concern and despair on the faces of everyone else.

~

Party stood outside the door of the supply closet with his ear pressed against the door. He could hear muffled voices inside, but not what was being said.

"Are they still in there?" Jet asked.

Party nodded. "Yea, but I don't know what they're doing."

Inside the tiny enclosed space sat Glitter and Lux. They had grabbed a lantern, a can of Power Pup and what was left of Novocaine's bottle of booze and had set up camp.

"Glitter will leave when I damn well say she can!" Lux had announced before slamming the door behind them. That had been some time before, and the Youngbloods were getting antsy to leave.

Glitter sat down and took a swig of the booze, "Lux, what are we gonna do? How are we gonna survive without each other?"

"I don't know, this isn't how I thought this would end. Not that I thought about how this would end, but... I don't know," Lux sighed, shaking her head. "I'm not ready."

"I'm not ready yet either. Like we barely know these guys, and yet we have to not only separate, but we have to trust that these guys will protect us," Glitter rubbed her temples. "This really wasn't our smartest idea."

"Maybe I'm an idiot, but I trust them. They're fighting against BLI like us, and they haven't been anything other than helpful so far," Lux offered. "If we weren't in this exact shitty situation, we wouldn't have any problem staying with either gang, right?"

"Man, fuck BLI. This whole situation is their fault." Glitter took another swig from the bottle. "But you are right if it wasn't for this," she motioned around, "I would gladly stay with either gang. Why did we have to meet them under these conditions?"

"If it wasn't for this damn conflict, you could get with Sandman," Lux winked.

Glitter laughed and grinned. "And you could be with Kobra. Life would be as good as it could be."

Lux rolled her eyes and kicked half-heartedly at her friend. "Shut up, they're probably on the other side of the door listening. Besides before this all went sideways you said no romance, so..." Lux shrugged.

"Even if they are sitting on the other side of the door and they do hear us," Glitter shrugged, "let them. Nothing is worse than us having to separate, to be honest."

"Yea!" Lux shouted; in case they were listening. "But who am I gonna talk to about every thought that pops into my head now? And what if a S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit finds me and... and you never find out?" Lux's voice cracked.

Glitter could feel her eyes welling up, "I'm sure someone would tell me. I mean Phoenix and Novocaine have that network of contacts... I'm sure we will find a way to keep in touch." Glitter was trying very hard to avoid the idea of life without Lux out there. "Maybe we should try and plan something, so we have something to look forward too... and..." Glitter trailed off.

"We'll just have to beat BLI at their own game. I'll get the guys to get the car fixed, and then I'll come get you from the Youngbloods by spring. It will be settled down by then. Sound good?" Lux sniffled, rubbing her eyes.

"Spring, you got it" Glitter pulled Lux in for a hug.

"And you promise there's nothing you're not telling me about anybody else?" Lux asked with an eyebrow quirked and a smirk when she pulled back from the hug.

Glitter squinted at Lux. "Like what? Like that twinkle in your eye you had while watching Soul Punk play?" Glitter grinned.

"I'm impressed by pure talent when I see it. I mean like when you disappeared when Soul was playing, and Sandman surprisingly wasn't around either," Lux smirked. "Or the dozen other times you both disappeared at the same time? Party even said he caught you guys outside in the rain."

Glitter grinned and shrugged. "Kiss and tell, loose lips sink ships, ya know," Glitter tried to play it cool, but she could feel her face turning red.

Lux gasped and grinned at her friend. "I knew it! I fuckin knew it! That's why I kept pressing, I knew you were keeping something from me! Oh my god, tell me everything! I'm so jealous! Fill me in!"

Glitter grinned "Well, it's awesome. You know I was worried that it would be odd, but it just feels right." Glitter giggled. "Like we kissed the night that we had a bonfire. Sandman's lips are just so soft, and we just seem to understand each other, and it's just so easy, I guess is the right word. Almost like him and I are supposed to be together." Glitter hid her face in her hands. "You know, I bet if you asked, Kobra would let you kiss him," she said through her fingers trying to change the subject.

"Shut up," Lux said again, rolling her eyes. "Like I'm just supposed to go up and ask him to kiss me? Not happening. If, and I mean if, he was to be interested, which I doubt, it would need to be... an organic moment ya know?"

"You and your organic moments" Glitter rolled her eyes, "Sometimes you just gotta take things into your hands" Glitter grabbed Lux's face in her hands. "If you want to kiss him, find a moment and kiss him," Glitter laughed.

Just then there was a stern knock on the door, and it opened enough for Novocaine to look in at Glitter squishing Lux's face between her hands. "Umm, I hate to break up whatever this is, but Glitter, we really gotta go, it's getting dark."

Glitter turned to face Novocaine, pulling along Lux as well, who was still trapped between Glitter's hands. "Welp, I guess this is it," Glitter said as she turned to hug Lux tight.

"Fuck," Lux groaned as she squeezed her friend. "I don't wanna do this alone. I don't wanna," she muttered over and over as tears started to stream down her face.

Seeing Lux cry made Glitter start crying "You stop that right now. I don't wanna do this either, but it's for the best for everyone," Glitter cried.

Lux nodded, sniffling, and wiping away the tears. "I'm sorry I got us into this mess, Glitter."

"We both did this. We both are to blame for this." Glitter sighed, "Lux, you are my number one, my heterosexual life partner, my everything."

Lux just whined in response, never being one to express her feelings well, tears began to fall even harder. She hated this moment so much and was so mad that it was happening.

"Ready to go?" Phoenix called from the diner door with Soul Punk behind him.

"Come on Glitter," Sandman said quietly as he got up from the booth where he was sitting.

"I'll miss you," Lux was finally able to choke out.

Glitter stood up and looked between Sandman and Phoenix, "Are we sure this is the best idea?"

Phoenix nodded, and Glitter looked back at Lux. "Lux, I love you. Please be safe and kick ass."

Lux felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced back. Party nodded at her comfortingly, and she looked back at Glitter. "Same," she said voice barely above a whisper.

After one last hug to Lux, Glitter turned and walked over to Sandman and Phoenix, and took Sandman's hand. "Let's go, boys," she whispered. Sandman leading her and Phoenix out to the other Youngbloods. 

"Everyone ready?" Punk asked.

Novocaine pointed to Glitter and Sandman, "What's all this about?" 

Glitter looked down and realized that he was pointing to her holding hands with Sandman. "Oh..." she looked at Sandman, "I guess we should tell everyone? It's bound to come out eventually…"

Sandman nodded, "Well, Glitter and I are... involved, you could call it?" he looked at Glitter.

"Yeah, let's call it 'involved,''" Glitter said. "I think that's the safest thing to call it now that it's out in the open." 

"Well, this should make things interesting then," Phoenix said while opening the door, "We need to make sure that BLI doesn't find out and use that against us, or more specifically Sandman."

Glitter and Sandman just looked at each other with concern as they got into the car.

[thegiddyowl]

Diagnosis: Lovesick

Here it is! My May the 4th Rebelcaptain fic for @cats-and-metersticks! Got it done just under the wire too.

The prompt was “hurt/comfort” but I know what she likes lol. This is set in the same universe as the Highschool AU. Read it on AO3!

May the 4th be with you!

It wasn’t until she reached the second flight of stairs when Jyn realized that she had been dating Cassian for a little over two months and had never been inside his apartment before. She had driven by it only once when Papa dropped Cassian off back when he finished his second swimming lesson with her. Of course, he had never been in her house either. It wasn’t like their relationship was secret, but they didn’t announce it 24/7 by making out in the hallway or grabbing each other’s butt randomly.

Why did her train of thought always end in butts lately?

Jyn reached the third flight of stairs and slowly made her way down the hall to find apartment 305. When she reached the red door with flecks of white paint near the peephole, she checked her backpack to make sure that yes, Cassian’s homework was in there. Bringing weekend English homework to a sick boyfriend was the perfect excuse to visit his home, maybe even get to know his grandmother a bit better. After inhaling a calming breath, Jyn knocked three times.

Nothing.

She knocked again before pressing her ear against the door and maybe hearing some movement inside.

“Hello? This is Jyn, and I have something for Cassian.”

Was that a cat crying inside? Cassian never said anything about owning a cat. The sound of the door unlocking made her jump and hold herself up straight with a smile on her face.

Cassian opened the door, and he looked like death. He held a pale blue blanket tightly over his hunched shoulders with one hand while he clung to the door knob with the other. The bright pink around his watery eyes and running nose made the rest of him look like a dull sort of pale. She knew he was sick, but not one step away from the grave sick.

“Holy shit,” she said.

He drew up a half-smile. “You have my homework?”

“Yeah, it’s right here,” she said as she handed it to him. “Where’s your grandma?”

“Texas.”

“Texas?”

“Yeah, for the weekend. Visiting my great aunt for her birthday. I would’ve invited you over, but then…” He turned away from her to cough behind the door. “Sorry.”

She shook her head and leaned towards the threshold.

“Do you need anything, or do you want me to stay?”

“I can…,” he stopped to hack his lungs out again. “I can take care of myself. Thank you, though.”

“Well, okay. Text me if you need anything.”

Jyn slowly walked back to the staircase, racking her brain of anything else she could do to help him. It honestly hurt seeing him so sick, and to top it off with his grandma being away too. What happened if he ran out of medicine? Just before he had closed the door, he looked like he might collapse. If she had to guess, he probably had the flu, and she remembered how hard it was to even be able to crawl to the bathroom and not pass out from dizziness.

Not knowing what else to do, Jyn pulled out her phone to text him that, seriously, she’ll do whatever she can to help him, but saw that he beat her to the punch:

Cassian

4:30 pm

Jyn wait

I went back to bed and left the door unlocked

I’m sorry can you lock it plz

4:31 pm

OMW

She jumped back up the stairs two at a time and rushed back to his apartment. The door opened up easily for her when she twisted the knob. She reached around and flicked the lock, but before she closed the door, she called out, “Ok, I locked it.”

No answer. Probably dead asleep already. She opened the door wider and stole a glimpse of the small apartment.

“Cassian? Anyone?”

She stepped inside to take just a peek of the living room that fed into the kitchen, a half wall separating the tile from the white carpet. The cozy living room was stuffed with an old green couch and a matching chair, their wood edgings chipped and scarred from age, a T.V. stacked on top of stand fit to bursting with DVDs, and a rectangular coffee table at the center of it all. Doilies draped over the backs and armrests of the furniture, a doily hung half over the T.V., and a wide square doily served as a table runner for the coffee table. What caught Jyn’s eye was the small alter tucked in the corner of the room. She closed the door quietly before she approached it. A hand-painted statue of the Virgin Mary stood at the very center of the table, high above the short candles, a small vase of white flowers, rosaries, beaded crosses, and a framed black and white photograph of an elderly man on her right and a color photo of a younger couple on her left. His grandfather, she assumed, and his parents.

Jyn shoved her hands in her pockets to squash the urge to touch anything on the alter. It was bad enough she was breaking and entering, and she didn’t need to make it worse by disturbing something so obviously sacred.

Jyn nearly jumped out of her skin when Cassian groaned from the back of the apartment,.

“Cassian? Are you ok?” she asked as she followed his voice down the hall.

“Jyn? Jyn, ’sthat you?”

She went into his room, the only room with the door wide open, and saw Cassian trying to grab a blanket he had managed to kick off but his bed was up too high for him to reach it. Jyn picked it up and tucked it over him and the three blankets he shivered under while trying not to knock over the small trash can overflowing with tissues.

“Yeah. I said that I locked the door, but I didn’t hear you answer so I got worried. Cassian?”

“Hm?” he grunted.

“When is your grandma coming back?”

“Sunday night,” he croaked.

Jyn surveyed his spare room, and felt a little jealous that even on his death bed his room was cleaner than hers, save for the few used tissues that fell out of the trash can and the pile of empty tissue boxes on his night stand table. She looked back at him, saw how weak and exhausted he was from that small walk to the front door and back.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay over?” she murmured.

“I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I’ve got the flu shot, so I’m good. I’ll just tell my dad that I’m staying over at Leia’s and she’ll cover for me so I can stay the night.”

He unglued his eyes and stared at her, and she could almost see the internal war going in his head until he pulled up a half-grin.

“I look that bad, huh?”

“You look like shit.”

He didn’t respond to that, his eyes drifting shut again. Jyn touched his burning forehead, and he spilled out crackling whimpers. Maybe she could get him a cold compress in the meantime, help him sleep easier.

“Stay, please?” he whimpered when she removed her hand.

“Yeah,” she whispered, eyeing the thermometer on his nightstand. “Have you taken your temperature?”

“I can’t remember.”

While he took his temperature, she found the washcloths and chilled one under cold water from the bathroom tap. She returned to his room with the cold compress and at tall glass of water. Even though he looked like he had been sweating, his forehead felt a little dryer than she expected. He let the thermometer fall out of his mouth, but picked it up with trembling fingers to put back on the table.

“What’s the verdict?” she asked, then read the digital number, “Oh my god--102.4.”

Cassian said nothing, since he fell asleep again. He stirred with a relieved groan when Jyn pressed the washcloth on his forehead.

“Your fever is way high. Too high. Maybe we should take you to the hospital.”

“No,” he grunted, then winced when he swallowed. He pawed at knob on his table drawer. “I have medicine.”

Jyn opened the drawer expecting to have to dig through a mound of crap like she did with her own drawers, but there was only a comb, a pair of nail clippers, a couple of pens, and a bottle of ibuprofen. Needing to have something to eat with the medicine or risk throwing up everything, Jyn made him some toast and sat on the edge of his bed making notes of what he needed between bites and sips of water: cough drops, throat drops, soup (there was a Chinese place nearby that made really good egg drop soup that Cassian was willing to try), and probably some more tissues. There was money in a coffee can on top of the fridge she could take, but to leave the receipt on his table so he could explain to his grandma later. After refreshing his compress, she left him to sleep and called Leia to pick her up.

Fifteen minutes later, Jyn and Leia were on their way to Jyn’s place in Leia’s silver Prius.

“Yeah, I’m gonna stay the night at Leia’s.  I’m heading home now to get my stuff for practice. I won’t be late, I promise. Okay, Papa. See you tomorrow night,” Jyn said crisply before hanging up. “Thanks again, Leia.”

“Well, it’s lucky that my parents are out of town this weekend, so your alibi is airtight.”

Jyn let out a sigh of relief that twisted in to a groan. “Just say it.”

Leia grinned. “Say what?”

“You know what.”

“That this wasn’t how you imagined spending the night at Cassian’s?”

Jyn groaned again as Leia laughed all the rest of the way to Jyn’s house.

*

When Jyn returned to the apartment, she heard Cassian speaking low and soft. After shrugging off her backpack, setting her small suitcase down, and taking off her shoes, she carried her shopping bags to his room. She hung back when Cassian laid on his side, his eyes closed as he spoke into the phone. Her nose twitched from the sharp smell of Vicks Vapor rub.

“Sí, estoy tomando agua,” he his breathing hitched and he hacked out a cough until he sat up to sip some more water. Cassian smiled at her as she sat down, then frowned when he continued, “Abuela…n-no, Abuela, no soy a levantarme de la cama.”

She texted Leia on her phone while she waited, enjoying listening to him speak in Spanish. She didn’t hear him speak it often, but when he did she liked how playful he sounded as he stretched out his vowels and rolled his r’s and spoke at nearly a mile a minute. In English he spoke much more carefully and seriously, even when he was messing around with her. The only language she knew was level 3 French, and she sounded like a toddler during oral exercises.

“Adiós, Abuela,” Cassian said sweetly before hanging up the phone. “Thank God you came back, Jyn.”

She grinned. “Was that your grandma?”

“Yeah. She was checking up on me.”

“These were the cough drops you wanted, yeah?” she said as she handed the bright yellow bag to him.

“Yes, thank you. Sorry, I know the rub smells awful.”

She shrugged it off. “How about you take your temperature again?”

He stuck the thermometer back in his mouth and struggled to open the bag until Jyn tore the perforated plastic edge off. He slowly unwrapped one of the menthol candies until the thermometer beeped with a new temperature of 101.9.

“That’s good, at least. Hopefully it keeps going down. Would you like some soup now, or some water?”

“Water, please.”

Before she’d forget, she put the receipt on his table and stashed the change back into the coffee can when she went to refill is glass. When she returned, he was already breathing deeper as he sucked on the cough drop.

“So what did you tell your grandma?” she asked him, sitting by his knees on the edge of his bed.

“I said that I would call Kay or Bodhi if I needed anything. You?”

“My dad’s out of town, so I told him I was sleeping over at Leia’s.”

“That was lucky.”

An awkward silence settled over them as the gravity of Jyn staying over at Cassian’s apartment finally made its impact. Jyn teased the fringed edge of one of his blankets drawn over him, a dark blue wool blanket with bands of black and white breaking the color like crests on a wave. Cassian’s hand peeked out from under the covers and grasped her hand.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said, his dark eyes shining in the dim light.

She leaned over and kissed his hot, greasy forehead, tasting the sweat in his stringy bangs. Something unexpectedly light fluttered in her ribcage.

“Hope you get better soon,” she said as she sat up. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

He squeezed her hand once more, letting it drag as she pulled herself away from his bedside. He fell back asleep with half a grin. Jyn left a crack open in the door as she closed it in case he yelled out for something, then scrubbed her hands and arms in the bathroom before going to the kitchen to pound down some orange chicken and rice. She moved the stack sales ads off the small kitchen table pushed up against the wall before sitting down to eat, the tangy sweet of the orange chicken already masking the new scents of the cozy apartment. Cassian didn’t make a peep while she ate and watched videos on her phone to crowd out the relative silence. Someone upstairs was vacuuming and a bus chugged down the street.

Eventually Jyn moved to doing on her homework, which was just a final draft for an essay on Jane Eyre they had been working for the last few weeks. After an hour of struggling with it she moved on to math and science, completing just as the clock hanging next to the kitchen cabinet struck ten. Christ, how did it get so late so fast without her realizing? Jyn shoved her stuff back in her backpack before getting her pajamas and toothbrush out of her suitcase and checking on the still sleeping Cassian before going into the bathroom to change.

One wouldn’t expect to get flustered in a locked bathroom, but Jyn couldn’t shake the feeling as she shucked off her day clothes and threw on her night ones as quickly as possible, like he was going to burst in the room before she finished buttoning her gray night shirt. She kept the door locked as she brushed her teeth, but when she finished she mechanically opened medicine cabinet and saw the razor, the stout green and black can of shaving cream, the chunky gray roll on--and shut the door, feeling guilty about trespassing. Sure, she’d seen the similar sort of hygiene products in her father’s medicine cabinet, but it was weird seeing it Cassian’s. It reminded her all over again that she was staying by herself at his home, and if he wasn’t sick…

She spat out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth out. They had only dated for a couple of months, and both silently agreed to take these slow, to not rush into being intimate. Jyn took down her ponytail and brushed her hair out, her eyes roving over the small bathroom. She was making a big deal out of nothing! He shared the bathroom with his grandmother, for Christ’s sake, even though she felt like she was trapped in this tile room with his overwhelming scent of musk and grass and--

And she needed to get out.

Jyn stumbled out, Cassian’s door still closed thank God, and headed back into the living room. Still she felt cloistered by his scent, so she cracked open the window and wafted the fresh air in until her thrumming heart calmed down. When she sank down on the couch, she heard a door down the hall squeaked open, a couple of thudding footsteps, and another door opened and closed. The walls were thinner than she realized when she could hear Cassian pee just a few feet away from her. He flushed and, instead of going back to bed, shuffled down the hall in slow, groaning steps.

Cassian emerged still flush in the face and wearing a thin sheen of sick sweat on his cheeks. He cinched the blue wool blanket hanging over his shoulders with one hand while the other leaned against the wall and skated over to the back of the chair for balance.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Hey.”

He plopped next to her on couch, his head lolling from exhaustion. Jyn scooted closer to him

“I brought soup back if you want it. Or do you want tea?”

“I want to die.”

“You can’t die on me yet. You still have to take me to prom.”

He smiled and snorted a laugh. “Soup, then. Please.”

After he directed her to the mugs, Jyn heated up the egg drop soup in one and poked him awake before giving it to him. She sat right next to him, keeping an eye on his grip.

“This is actually pretty good.”

“Yeah, and it’s good if you have a sore throat.”

He leaned into her. “It’s freezing in here. Why is the window open?”

Now it was her turn to flush.

“Because it’s stuffy and you’re sick. I can close it.”

“No, leave it open. I don’t want you to get sick. It sucks and everything hurts.” He sipped more of the soup, and grumbled, “Everything fucking hurts.”

His hand started to shake, so she held the bottom of the mug until he let go. At least he drank most of his soup. If he kept it down and slept some more, he’d probably feel better in the morning.

“Last time I got really sick, I couldn’t even walk. I had to crawl to the bathroom,” Jyn said as she rubbed his back. “My mom would get me egg drop soup and we’d watch movies when I was awake. Do you want to watch a movie?”

They ended up watching Warm Bodies, probably because Cassian related with the walking dead at that point, but also because it was a funny movie. Jyn turned off the lights, closed the window, and sat right next to him. He sagged against her shoulder, then she nudged him into resting his head in her lap. She sat straight up, combing his hair with her fingers until her shoulders slumped against the couch.

“This is better,” he mumbled. “Do you think in fifty years we’ll be like this?”

“That’d be nice,” she answered, feeling the light flutter in her chest again.

Cassian’s eyes flitted to the alter before he nuzzled against her knees. “It would.”

Exhaustion does funny things to a person.

Jyn woke up on the couch, the red and white menu screen playing quietly in the background. Cassian’s head rested on her abdomen, and his body slept between her legs. She breathed slowly, his head rising a little with every breath, but he didn’t seem to notice that she was awake. He just continued to snooze on, one hand curled around her waist. It was so adorable she couldn’t help but kiss him on the top of his head. She could smell the vapor rub, the cough drop, the shaving cream, the deodorant, and beneath all of that, his scent that belonged to no one else.

She kissed his head until she drifted off again, waking only when Cassian whispered her name while he played with the ends of her hair. Feeling his forehead, his fever was still there but not as hellish as the night before.

Jyn, however, felt a little scratchiness in her throat.

[beachbabywrites]

Drunk On You // A Betty Cooper imagine

REQUEST: M-2-R RIVERDALE (”Betty x Reader first time?”)

SUMMARY: Betty opts for a change of plans while decorating with R

Betty dropped the boxes on the coffee table in the living room, she tightened her pony tail and turned to you. The radio was playing Sinatra quietly, the weather report called for snow flurries around five pm. You set the bags down beside the boxes and waited for Betty to give you orders. "Ok, Mom likes gold and pink ornaments with silver tinsel on the tree." She explained as she pulled the boxes open, removing the ornaments. You pulled the tinsel out of the shopping bag. "Festive." You muttered as you studied the white, fake tree. After the two of you decorated the tree, Betty started wrapping garland around the stair railings while you hung some over the fireplace. It wasn't long before you both were done, back at the boxes digging around for decorations, deciding what to do next. "Should we hang up mistletoe?" She asked, picking up the paper package from the bag with the wreath from the tree farm. "Mom usually hangs it at the bottom of the stairs." "I'll get a chair from the kitchen." You called out. You dragged the chair to the bottom of the stairs, Betty hung the leaves on a hook. She smiled down at you as she spoke. "I'm so excited, with Polly being home, this Christmas is going to be great. I'm really glad my mom decided to let me have the party." "Have you decided who you're inviting yet?" "Sorta, I'm up in the air about Cheryl, because I know if I invite her she will bring more people with her. Ethel is coming, Vee, Jughead and Archie, of course." You nodded as she spoke, holding her hand as she stepped down from the chair. She smiled at you, her eyes bright as you watched her. 

"What?" You asked, a giggle in your voice. "Nothing." She responded, still smiling. "No, what?" You insisted, she grabbed your hand, pulling your arm towards her. "You just look so beautiful today." She said quietly, catching you off guard. You laughed, thanked her. You pulled her closer to you so you could kiss her. Her lips moved slowly against yours, one of her arms slid around your back, holding you in place. She whispered your name, as your thumb brushed over her cheek. You hummed against her lips. Betty was the first to break the kiss, holding intense eye contact with you for a minute before turning and basically dragging you up the stairs. She threw open her bedroom door and before you had it closed back, she was pulling her shirt off to reveal a modest white bra. She turned back to you, gently grabbing your face as she stepped up against you. Your hands wandered from her back up the front of her chest. A small moan slid past her lips as you gently massaged her breasts. As she shoved her tongue in your mouth, instantly taking control of the situation, she began to unbutton your jeans, pushing them down your legs. Betty gripped your hips tightly, holding you against her, your hands kept running over her smooth flesh, wanting to memorize the way she felt under your fingertips. "Should we?" She asked, eyes wide. You weren't sure your voice would hold up, the butterflies in your stomach sent adrenaline rushing through you. This is as far as you've ever been with Betty. You nodded, instead. She smiled, kissed you again, before pulling you towards the bed. "We have to be fast." She reminded you. She pulled you down on top of her, her arms wrapped around your neck, fingernails digging into your shoulders as you felt her grind her hips down on your thigh. You moaned into the kiss. The two of you separated quickly to remove the remaining clothes covering you. Betty pulled you back into an embrace, chest to chest, the two of you sat on your knees, hands rubbing every inch of skin you could find, lips mapping out small bruises on necks and shoulders, nails leaving little moons on hips. "Oh god." Betty moaned, throwing her head back as your fingers slid past the soft brown hair and to the sensitive bud. You watched, the way her eyes were squeezed shut, the little gasps that left her lips sounded like heaven, she was holding onto your arms like if she loosened her grip, you would leave. "Lay down." Betty managed to spit out, you did so, her hands ran down your legs as you straightened them out. Immediately, she began licking at your slit, her tongue occasionally dipping inside of it, swirling around, tasting you. Your knuckles were white as you gripped the sheets. You gasped loudly when Betty's tongue flicked against your clit. As she sucked on the bundle of nerves, she positioned herself over your leg. You felt her core being pressed down against you. She was already so wet, the excitement was enough to make her almost dizzy. As Betty lapped at you, she inserted one finger, pumping it in and out slowly before adding a second one, continuing the thrusting motions with her hand. You were so tight around her, your walls felt like velvet. The faster she moved inside of you, the faster she was grinding against you. When Betty found the spot that makes you arch your back, she smiled against you. She sucked harshly on your clit as she brushed over your g-spot. Your thighs were beginning to tremble, you pushed your feet against the bed, trying to push your hips up, in the process, giving Betty leverage to get herself off. She was moaning against you by now, the vibrations wracking through your body, every whispered word sending a shock right through you until you came with a cry. Betty slowed her motions before pulling back completely. As you came down she ran a hand up and down your stomach, over your chest. She brushed your hair back out of your face. You grabbed her hand, guiding her. Betty put her knee down on your hair, the two of you laughed after you yelped and resituated yourselves. Your girlfriend put one hand in your hair, the other one playing with her breasts as you licked at her, your hands guiding her hips in figure eight on your face. It wasn't long after that, that Betty came with a cry. She fell to the bed beside you, for a minute, you both just stared at the ceiling, chests heaving, wondering if you both really just did that, wondering if the other really enjoyed it. You felt fingers brush over your hand, you turned your head. You and Betty giggled when your eyes met, no matter how hard you fought, the adrenaline was still running through you, leaving you both giggling messes. Betty curled into you, throwing her leg over yours as she kissed you. The kiss was slow and sweet, passionate. Filled with nothing but love. You stayed in that spot, hands running over hair and skin for what felt like hours as you drifted in and out of consciousness, in reality it was only thirty minutes before Betty was pushing herself into a sitting position to ask if you wanted to shower with her real quick before finishing decorating. That night at the party, you and Betty may have seemed drunk to anyone who was looking at you. Both of you were handsy, giggly and constantly were making out. And in a way, they were right. Neither of you had touched the alcohol, yet you were drunk. Drunk on each other.

[kekepuaa]

Ladyblogging, part one

summary: in which marinette realizes that the internet is a lot smarter than she thought and that the only way to protect her identity is to join the ranks. identity reveal. adrienette. notes: this is gonna suck to format. irrelevant bit of info here: in this fic, the ladyblog uses wordpress. --

part one: damoiseau in distress [AO3]

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The Ladyblog Alya C., Paris, France.

Join Date:  2015-09-01

Keeping the world up to date on the latest and greatest news regarding Ladybug and Chat Noir.

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F.A.Q.

1.) How do I report Ladybug & Chat Noir sightings? Click this LINK HERE or tweet me @theladyblogger.

2.) How do I subscribe to your livestream? Subscribe to The Ladyblog and download our app! Once you do, push notifications should be activated.

3.) Are you a LadyNoir shipper? I’m an AlyaBug shipper. Yes.

3.) Do you know Ladybug or Chat Noir’s secret identities? No...not yet :)

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Alya C. @theladyblogger 3,421 Followers//1,094 Following

Alya C. @theladyblogger One of the students at my school says she’s friends with #Ladybug! Deets to come! (And possibly an interview!)

Adrien Agreste and 87 others liked your Tweet LadyNoirShipperxo and 46 others Retweeted your Tweet

N I N O @djxbubbler in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger D U D E. Like, real talk?

@theladyblogger in reply to N I N O @djxbubbler Take a gander at my blog, my dude :-)

--

The Ladyblog Posted: 2016-04-16 

Subject: Could Collège Françoise Dupont’s Newest Arrival’s Be Close Friends With Our Own Ladybug?

[VIDEO]

Lila Rossi, Collège Françoise Dupont’s newest addition, is making quite an impression on her new classmates. A transfer student from Italy, Rossi arrived to our humble educational facility with a rather interesting piece of news: She’s friends with Ladybug. Amazing, right?  

She was kind enough to share a few words with the Ladyblog, mentioning that our beloved masked heroine has saved her on multiple and has even spoken to her on numerous occasions outside mask. Check out the video and drop a line telling us what you think!

I wonder if she knows Chat Noir too...maybe I’ll ask her later. 

But for now, this is Alya, signing off!

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Comments:

No comments have been posted.

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Marinette Dupain-Cheng would like to think of herself as a very patient girl. Probably a little too patient, given the fact that she had allowed Chloe Bourgeois to flounce around the classroom, running her big mouth and making her fellow classmates feel terrible enough for freaking Hawk Moth to exploit their vulnerabilities. However, for all of Marinette’s self-discipline, there were a grand total of three things that the young girl absolutely could not tolerate in any way, shape, or form.

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Marinette’s Journal Entry Date: 2016-04-16

FILE UNDER: THINGS I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT TOLERATE

I shouldn’t really be venting in my journal since Chloe and Sabrina tried to steal it last September, but whatever, I’m going to do it. (Hopefully it won’t stress Tikki out. Should I keep a separate journal for those events? Maybe...or should I just use codenames? Decisions, decisions...)

Anyway, in this world, there are some things that I can’t deal with. As in, I’m not going to exert energy trying to be compassionate or Hufflepuff-ish about.

1.) Girls who attempt to canoodle with the Love of My Life.

2.) L I A R S. 

3.) Thieves 

Unfortunately, the Liar is all of the above (btw: decided on codenames.) Not too sure what to do about it since it’s kind of dangerous for her to be offering false information liberally...and I can’t really ask Lady Wifi for help...otherwise, she’ll suspect me.

Hm. Updates to come.

--

“Marinette, you coming?” 

Marinette snapped her journal shut and stuffed it into her backpack. If she wanted to expose Lila, she had to come up with an excuse and fast. As luck would have it, she had remembered that her mother requested she come to the house around lunch time, as her Uncle Cheng was stopping by for a brief visit and would be gone by the time school dismissed her.

She offered Alya an apologetic smile, “Sorry, Alya. Maman wants me to stop by the house to say hi to my uncle before he goes home.”

“No worries,” Alya shrugged, “I have some major analytics to be checking out with that last interview with Lila.” Marinette almost rolled her eyes at the dreamy sigh that escaped Alya’s lips. 

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a little crush on the girl,” Marinette commented, a dark brow raised at her best friend. 

Alya scoffed, tucking her cell into her pocket, “Oh God, don’t let Nino hear you say that. We’re supposed to go out to the zoo this weekend to see the panther,” she said, “And besides, he seems pretty taken with Lila too since she apparently knows Steven Spielberg and all these other Hollywood hotshots.” 

God, Marinette shook her head. 

Was it just her or was everyone in this school so incredibly gullible? A little voice in the back of Marinette’s head--a voice that almost suspiciously sounded like Tikki--reminded her that she would probably have believed Lila’s lies had she not been a liar, a thief, and a danger to the Love of Marinette’s Life, Adrien.

Speaking of which.

“Right,” Marinette said, shoving her arms through the loops of her backpack, “Well, I gotta book. Have fun measuring your Twitter analytics, or whatever...”

Alya laughed, “Will do. Oh, grab me pain au chocolat on your way back?”

“Alrighty, I’ll be back in an hour!” 

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Alya C. @theladyblogger  A new hero is on the scene and her name is #VOLPINA! Thoughts?

Simply the Best and 21 others liked your Tweet Nadia Chamack and 11 others Retweeted your Tweet

Chloe Bourgeois in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger Ladybug’s still better than she is.

Bitter Harpy in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger do we really need three heroes? 

Ladybug Trash in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger She’s awesome!! I hope her and LB get to work together more often.

Alya C. @theladyblogger Okay, scratch that, #AKUMAALERT.  [LINK FOR VIDEO STREAM]

Ladybugging TF OUT and 97 others liked your Tweet Nadia Chamack and 104 others Retweeted your Tweet

Chloe Bourgeois in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger Told ya so.

Chronogirl mentioned you in a Tweet @queenbee @theladyblogger shaddup chloe

Alya C. @theladyblogger #BREAKING #AKUMA ALERT: #VOLPINA has taken a hostage

Alya C. in reply to Alya C. #BREAKING #AKUMA ALERT: Adrien Agreste, son of fashion designer @GABRIEL, reported as #Volpina’s hostage

Alya C. in reply to Alya C. #BREAKING #AKUMA ALERT: #Volpina has Agreste hanging from the Eiffel Tower

Alya C. @theladyblogger #AKUMA ALERT: HERE’S THE LIVESTREAM LINK

Petit Papillon and 246 others liked your Tweet You’ve Got to be Kitten Me and 355 others Retweeted your Tweet

N I N O in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger WHERE ARE YOU IS ADRIEN OKAY? 

N I N O in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger ALYA WHY AREN’T YOU PICKING UP YOUR PHONE?

N I N O in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger ALYAAAAAAA

N I N O in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger ALYA. 

N I N O in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger THAT’S IT. I’M COMING OVER.

N I N O in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger AKUMAS SERIOUSLY SUCK. HANG ON, ADRIEN.

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Chloe Bourgeois @queenbee 687 Followers//996 Following

Chloe Bourgeois @queenbee @adrienagreste ADRIKINS, ARE YOU OKAY??? DON’T BE SCARED, #LADYBUG WILL COME FOR YOU. 

Chloe Bourgeois @queenbee #Volpina’s the worst(tm)

mad max and 12 others liked your Tweet Sabrina Retweeted your Tweet

Sabrina in reply to Chloe Bourgeois  @queenbee Chloe? Should we go to the Eiffel Tower to wait for Adrien?

Chloe Bourgeois in reply to Sabrina @pastelprincess you do it! i forgot i had a hair appointment. tell adrikins to call me when ladybug saves him. 

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Alya C. @theladyblogger #BREAKING #AKUMA ALERT: #Volpina has been purified and Adrien Agreste has been rescued by #Ladybug and #ChatNoir

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The Ladyblog Posted: 2016-04-16

Subject: Saving a Damoiseau in Distress and Outfoxing Foxes

[VIDEO]

Couldn’t snag an interview with the Lady or Alley cat, but here’s some excellent footage from today’s maelstrom. Today’s victim: LB’s “friend” in question, Lila Rossi, who was akumatized into Volpina, a formidable opponent whose abilities are dependent on illusion and deception.

Where does teen model Adrien Agreste fall into all of this? Nobody knows! Yet. 

Luckily, your girl Alya has all the hookups in terms of info. (AKA, I’ll just ask Adrien when I see him in class LOL.) 

As usual, leave all your love (or your conspiracy theories) in the comments below.

This is Alya, signing off!

--

Comments:

Response to Saving a Damoiseau in Distress and Outfoxing Foxes Posted: 2016-04-16 Subject: Love...triangle...?????

CatBug: OK OK JUST LISTEN FOR A SECOND...what if...WHAT IF!!!! There was a love triangle between LB, Volpina, and Adrien Agreste????? Judging by the video footage you took, I’d say that LB is digging some Adrien and so was Volpina, which is why she took him.

Remember Jackady? Look at the footage of LB and Adrien. They seem a little cozy, if you ask me :-) (That or I could be totally delusional.) 

ALSO Volpina used him as leverage against LB so she’d give up her Miraculous WHICH SHE ALMOST DID!!! aksljf;asldfjkas;lj.  

Response to Love...triangle...????? Posted: 2016-04-16 Subject: Bruh...

geek-baits: I’m down with that LOL. Poor Chat...

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Response to Love...triangle...????? Posted: 2016-04-16 Subject: (no subject)

chatblanc: You’re looking into it too much. Why would Ladybug concern herself with an ordinary citizen? The only way that’d make sense is if she knew him irl..............

...wait a minute.

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Response to (no subject) Posted: 2016-04-16 Subject: Duly noted The Ladyblog: WAIT A MINUTE! I think we got ourselves a lead here :D 

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Marinette froze upon reading Alya’s most recent reply to the damning conspirator at the bottom of the page. There was no way she’d believe a stranger on the internet, right?

Okay, yeah, no. This was Alya. She was going to search every lead she could get her hands on. And there was no way that Marinette’d be able to act normally around Adrien, regardless if she was in or out of costume. Luckily, her handsome classmate had always seemed to disappear at the sight of an akuma, but still.

The video now being circulated on the internet was enough to set her best friend on her trail. Marinette could see it now: a full-page spread dedicated to Ladybug’s unmasking, which would inevitably endanger herself, her family, and her friends, but she couldn’t exactly discourage Alya from snooping without coming under investigation herself.

Marinette threw herself back in her chair with a sigh, whirling away from her computer to face her wall, covered in photographs of Adrien. 

Could she act like her heart wasn’t running a marathon when he was close to her while she was Ladybug? No, she could hardly think straight around him when they were in class together.

Could she tell Alya to back off? No, because that would definitely encourage her friend to dig deeper. 

Marinette groaned.

“Why don’t you try to talk to her?” Tikki helpfully suggested. Marinette shook her head, her dark pigtails flying. 

“That’ll make it worse, I’m sure,” Marinette replied, “The only way Alya’d ignore this tip--” this very accurate tip that would absolutely ruin her, “--would be for someone to disprove it, with evidence. And the only way for me to do it without raising suspicion would be...”

Marinette stopped as a lightbulb went off in her head.

Of course, Marinette thought to herself, the idea washing over her like fresh air, why hadn’t I thought of this before? 

Marinette swiveled back to her computer, fingers flying furiously on the keyboard. 

“What are you doing, Marinette?” Tikki asked.

“Ladybug’s gonna be doing some damage control. Tikki! Spots on!”

--

Ladybug Unknown, Paris, France. 

Join date: 2016-04-16

Ladybug’s Official blog. 

--

Ladybug Posted: 2016-04-16

Subject: Obligatory ‘hey-how’s-it-going’ Post

[PHOTO]

Hey, it’s Ladybug. Blogging seemed to look like fun, so I figured I’d hang around you all for a bit. 

xo,

Ladybug

Comments:

No comments have been posted.

[kpopscenarios4u-blog]

Lethal Virus - Part 4/5

Part O N E || Part T W O || Part T H R E E || Part F O U R || Part F I V E Word Count: 1847 Requested by: mymisstina Themes: Angst, AU, Slight Fluff Triggers: Blood, Mentions of Death, Guns. A/N: We’re almost at the end of this series! I really didn’t want to make it five parts but I didn’t like how everything tied in without separating this and the last part. I hope you enjoy.

“How could you be so stupid?” Hoseok groaned looking at his computer, then a gleeful laugh fell from his lips. “Hey, Boss.” Hyunwoo looked up from his own computer, “Yeah?” “Jung Kisoo - the guy Kihyun said was involved in the medical scandal along with Dr. Kim.” “From the other company? Yeah, what about him.” “Jung got married three years ago to a woman by the name of Park Juhyun, but she got really sick. Apparently, he was working on a drug to cure her illness and was trying to rush through testing.” “Medical testing for new drugs can take years, right?” Minhyuk interrupted. “Yeah, exactly. This guy was doing everything in his power to get it pushed to human testing but his wife died before it ever got to that stage. Then, Kim’s company stole the drug and are supposed to be holding a press conference tomorrow to announce it and it’s properties.” “That’s a good lead.” Hyunwoo agreed. “Take Jooheon and stake out the conference tomorrow, he could be planning on releasing the virus then.” He paused for a minute. “Be careful.” “Your concern is touching boss, but that’s not what cements this guy as your lead suspect.” Hyunwoo waited, his eyebrows raised. “When his wife died, he took her last name. Park Kisoo.”

You walked back into the room, just in time for Hoseok to turn his screen around to show Hyunwoo a photograph. You gasped, finding it difficult to breathe for a moment. “T-That’s him.” You finally choked out, stumbling toward the desk, ignoring everyone’s concerned looks. “That’s Dr. Park.” “Hoseok, send me a home address. I’m going to ask this Park Kisoo some questions.” Hyunwoo stood, grabbing his wallet and car keys as he made his way to the door. His hands had just touched his coat hanging in the doorway when you caught up with him. “Where do you think you’re going without me?” You inquired failing to keep any anger out of your voice. How dare he assume that you weren’t going with him. “I know you’re not going to leave your partner behind.” “You’re too sick. If this is our guy… It’s too damn dangerous, ______-ah.” “What’s he going to do, infect me a second time?” You challenged, fire burning in your eyes. “If anything, I should be going alone and you should be staying here. I do not need your protection. I’ve yet to show any symptoms, so how can we even be sure that I’ve been infected.” “Uh, the tests that you had at the hospital?” Hoseok interrupted sarcastically. “Shut UP, Hoseok.” The both of you yelled, not even bothering to look at him. “Fine. Get your things quickly, because I’m not waiting.” As he stormed out of the room, you ignored the burning pain in your chest as you dashed back to your desk before hurrying out the door,

As you pulled up to the modest home, you noticed a light on in the front window. “First sign of danger, you are out of there.” Hyunwoo growled, his voice low and dangerous. “No. First sign of danger and you are out of there.” You quickly climbed out of the car and was followed closely by Hyunwoo, who soon took the lead. The door opened by itself and the two of you stepped inside. “Sorry.” Hyunwoo whispered. Just as the door went to swing shut, Hyunwoo pushed you down and out of the entrance way. The door slammed shut in your face with you outside the building and Hyunwoo inside with a madman.

“HEY! SON HYUNWOO! HEY! AHHHH! FUCK!” You screamed so loudly that you started to cough. Quickly, you got to your feet and pushed through the dizziness as you radioed in for backup and began to search around the house, looking for a way in. As you neared the back, you came across a window that looked into Park’s living room. You could see Hyunwoo and Park sitting, quite civilly, opposite each other. To anyone else, it might look like two acquaintances having a chat. Then you saw Park pull a gun on Hyunwoo, and your eyes widened as you looked for something, anything, to break the window glass. You eyes settled on a brick paver that was loose. Without even thinking of anything except getting inside, fast, you threw the brick paver through the window and the glass exploded, spraying you with thousands of sharp pieces. Ignoring it, you moved to run into the room but your body was too weak from fighting the virus. You stumbled and landed in the shattered glass, cutting your hands and face as you landed. “_____!” Hyunwoo made to jump up but the cock up the gun kept him still. He scowled at Park who began to laugh hysterically. “You did this to her, you arsehole.” “I remember her. She tried so hard to relax me. ‘It’s OK doctor, fighting. The police may seem tough, but we’re just people too’.” He mocked you. 

You shakily got to your feet, ignoring the blood that fell from your body and onto the carpet. Once again Hyunwoo moved to reach you but it was you that stopped him this time. “If my blood gets on me, you get infected. Think before you do something you’ll regret.” Hyunwoo hung his head and let out a pitiful laugh. “I could never do anything for or with you that I’d regret, ____-ah.” He said softly. Park let out a high pitched laugh. “Oh, this is too much fun. You have feelings for each other.” Your face grew red as Hyunwoo’s head snapped up to glare at the man holding you both captive. “She’s my partner, of course I do. We work so closely together, you develop a bond. I imagine you had one similar to your wife - or are you so gripped with madness that you can’t even remember that.” Park ignored him. “I want to play a little game.” He opened the gun and dumped all six bullets from it before selecting one and placing it back into the machine. “There’s a safe there, girlie. If you can figure out the four digit combination. You’ll have the vaccine.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you swayed slightly on the spot, the blood loss and virus working together to bring you down. You tried to take a step toward the safe but he stopped you. “Ah, ah, ah. I haven’t finished. Every time you get it wrong. I’ll fire this fun off at your partner’s little head.” Your eyes locked with Hyunwoo’s who nodded. “Come over here, detective, so I can tie you up. While you seem like the type to play fair, I don’t want any chances.” Nodding, Hyunwoo stood and made his way over to sit by Park, who tied the younger man’s wrists behind his back. “Since you both behaved so well. I’ll give you two clues. My wife and I were married on the 11th of April, 2014 and she died on the 1st of September, 2016.” You paused, he’d given you two options. “But I can’t promise that those numbers are in order.” He cackled before pressing the nozzle of the gun directly to Hyunwoo’s head. “Begin, if you please.”

You tried to fight the hazy feeling in your mind and forced your bleary eyes to stay open and alert. His wedding date was the 11th of April. You couldn’t think of a reason why the man would use the date he lost his beloved wife as a code for anything. “Don’t second-guess yourself.” Hyunwoo called. “You’ve got this - oof.” “Shut up or I’ll blow both of your brains out. Fuck the vaccine. Do you want the blood of those other policemen on your hands? Not to mention all the civilians that I’ll infect tomorrow at the press conference.” You forced their voices out of your head and entered 1104 into the safe. Three beeps were emitted from the safe and it didn’t open. You heard the Park pulled the hammer. Your eyes locked onto Hyunwoo’s, every nerve in your body on edge. Click. No bullet. Turning, you took a difficult and shaky breath. Breathing was getting harder and harder to do. 0414. Beep. Beep. Beep. Click. Empty again. You felt feverish and you weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the virus that was finally winning. You thought about what it would be to lose the person you loved. What it would be like to lose Hyunwoo. You wouldn’t want to forget that day for as long as you lived. A wedding was a special day, but death. That was the one true life altering event. The 1st of September, 2016. Did you try the date and month, or the month and the year? Just the month and the year were too vague. No. It had to be the day. Hell, the very millisecond if possible, but you hadn’t been given anything other than a day. “Oh dear… Is that pesky little virus finally winning?” Park cooed. “Hurry, hurry or I’ll think you’ve forfeited and take my next shot." Trying to steady your shaking hand, you typed in 0109.

A long, clear beep resonated through the room. Clank. The safe swung open and you let out a sigh of relief. “______!” You turned just in time to see Park pointing the gun at you before Hyunwoo threw his body onto him. The gun went off.

Someone screamed. It sounded like you, but it was if you were floating through the room outside your own body. Someone cursed. Hyunwoo. “HYUNWOO!” You cried, standing to rush over to him. His thigh was bleeding. Park made to move for the gun but Hyunwoo knocked his head against his own, knocking Park out cold just as the rest of the unit (minus Changkyun) burst through the window. You untied Hyunwoo but quickly moved away as you felt a horrible coughing attack coming over you. “_____!” You heard multiple voices calling your name as you doubled over and let your body heave, blood spilling from your mouth. The last thing you heard was Hyunwoo before everything went black.

Ignoring the pain in his thigh, Hyunwoo raced over to catch you before you hit the ground. “______!” “Boss, no!” Jooheon called. “You’ll get sick.” Cradling ______’s limp body in his arms, Hyunwoo gestured with his head to the safe. “He said there was a vaccine in there.” “What if he lied?” Minhyuk murmured, saying what everyone else was thinking. “I don’t want to live in a world that she isn’t in.” Hyunwoo choked out, his eyes burning. “We get it, Boss,” Hyungwon sighed. “We’d all do anything for our partners. It would kill me if Changkyun d-died, but you have to go on living for them as well.” “She’s not just my partner.” Hyunwoo growled as he lifted you up into his arms, shutting out the pain. “I love her.” He began to leave the house, limping badly as he made his way out to where an ambulance waited. “Bring the vaccine.”