#bells hells 90s au

[bvnnyface]

More 90s Bells Hells au i will finish the whole cast reference page i made later happy Thursday night critters

[mingsolo]

PAUSE + PLAY

wonwoo x reader (f) / g: meet cute, 90s au, fluff, strangers to lovers / wc: 4k / warnings: cursing, some nipple action, mingyu being a sl*t, / r: nc17

written for Now, That's 90s! collab, hosted by @beomcoups and I! ngI struggled not because I couldn't write this one, but because life is kicking my ass and I couldn't find the time to really sit and think through it... anyways it turned out pretty cute please read if you can <3

A drop of sweat rolled down from your forehead, you blew some air to your face but of course it was hot and it made you dizzy. “Is this thing even on?.” you shouted from the other corner of the shop, to your co-worker, Mingyu.

You stood under the AC trying to feel if there was actually cool air coming from it but you couldn’t feel but a weak wave of hot air over you. 

“Yeah, that thing is better off.” Mingyu shouted back, where he was lining up tapes in the kids section. “By the way, could you help me check the return box? There’s some tapes missing here, they should be there.” 

You waved out, going to the returns box at the entrance of the store. A few tapes were in, three Toy Story 2, one Tarzan and a copy of 10 Things I Hate About You along with two Armageddon at the bottom. You placed the movies on the counter as Mingyu was approaching you. “We need to rewind them first, all of them!” You say inspecting the tapes, “Geez, why do they never do it?.” 

Mingyu laughs and shakes his head. “The sign even says “Please” on it, right?.” He taps the hardcover of the vhs box, where “Please rewind before returning” signs reads on it.

“And it's so hot to be in the rewind room!.” you nag once more, taking the tapes with both arms and dragging your feet to the back of the store and rewind the tapes before someone comes looking for them. Mingyu returns to his previous spot on the kids section, not without laughing at you first. 

Despite the whole minute that it took you to get there, you are now placing the tapes into the machine, leaving the door open so some of the air could get in, the small and dark room feels suffocating just by being two steps inside it. In the speakers of the store, the faint sound of Genie In a Bottle plays on and you start humming, partly because you have the song stuck in your head thanks to Mingyu playing the cd over and over when he is on shift, and because it somehow helps the task be a little less tedious.

While on it, you hear the bells ringing meaning a customer has come to the store. You peek out to see a familiar tall figure enter, waving his way in walking directly towards the back where Mingyu was at the kids section.

“Hey!” you heard the guy saying until he disappeared from your line of sight. You tried to peek out more but it won’t be possible without you stepping out of the room, so you hurried up the process to get another glance before he’s out.

In the month you have been working there, you have seen this guy come in at least once a week. You were sure he was Mingyu’s friend as he always walked directly towards him or looked for him especially after picking up some tapes. The past times he had come with you on shift without Mingyu, you had the bad luck of always doing something like rewinding tapes or in the bathroom, never getting the chance to even greet him when he entered the store.

One thing for sure, hee was cute as hell. Cat like eyes and thin defined lips, huge black frames on his face, making it look smaller. And you noticed only by getting little glimpses of him, as he was always in a rush or something, never staying more than five minutes. You thought of asking Mingyu who he was but decided not to as you were still new in the store and even if you liked and had fun working with him, Mingyu has proven to be the teasing type, and he wouldn’t let you work in peace if you dare asking him about this other guy.

Just as you were cursing at Armageddon for rewinding so slowly, you heard them saying goodbyes and the chiming doorbell announcing he was out. 

With a sigh you rolled your eyes and finished your task without hurry, hoping the cat boy would come back soon and you were luckily enough to be on the counter to greet him. 

.

.

.

Today was a Monday, and the week promised to be a quiet one. Not many new releases came to the store yet so customers wandered a little bit before getting out, or just asking when would you stock Sleepy Hollow or why you had so few copies of The Sixth Sense. You tried your best to give every customer a smile at the beginning but after a month of getting the same questions over and over, you just shrugged and advised people to come back later, and maybe the previous customer had brought it back by then. 

Mingyu was way better with customers, both girls and guys. ‘I’ll get it ready and rewinded this afternoon for you’ he said with a wink to a middle aged lady, who shamelessly smiled and flirted with him while her kid smudged chocolate from the bar he was eating on a copy of Inspector Gadget.

“Great, now I have to clean that.” you glared at Mingyu as he saved the piece of paper with the woman’s number on his back pocket once she and the chocolate kid were gone. “I swear to God I’ve seen her come in with her husband.” you arch your eyebrows at him. 

“That doesn’t seem like a me problem.” He shot gun fingers at you and got back to his task on the counter, where a few other ladies waited for him.

You chuckled and started spraying windex on Mathew Broderick’s face covered in chocolate, laughing at how Mingyu flirted shamelessly with every single one of them, all at once, but they didn’t seem to mind. 

Once good ol’ Mathew’s face was clean you left the tape back on the shelf, when you heard the bell ring. “Y/n, can you help?” Mingyu hurried to tell you, he was now surrounded by the women as he showed them a copy of Between Your Legs animatedly. “This one is from our exclusive foreign section, so exotic! And the plot is fascinating…” He looked at the ceiling and the ladies followed.

You shook your head and got up from where you were squatting, seeing the tall figure of cat-boy coming through the door. He looked at the commotion on the counter and figured out Mingyu was busy at the moment. He hesitated for a second before turning back ready to head out when you sprinted towards him, shouting “HI!! WELCOME IN!” maybe a little too enthusiastically. 

“H-hi,” he said back, a little startled by your shouting. Mingyu also looked up to you for a moment, but he was quickly back to answering curious questions from his little fan club. “Uhm, I’ll be back later when-”

“No! Please, I know Mingyu usually helps you out but please tell me what can I do for you?,” you smiled with pressed lips and your voice two tones higher than how you usually speak, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing him in front of you confirmed your suspicions, he was stupidly handsome, freakingly hot even behind those thick square glasses. His hoodie smells like coffee and the cap he was wearing backwards made the earring on his left ear seem more dangly. 

“I really would prefer to wait for Mingyu…” 

“Nonsense!” you guided him towards a free counter next to where Mingyu and his harem were discussing Between Your Legs, quickly putting some space between you two before you would get inappropriately close and start sniffing his sweater, your eyes shining brightly as you spotted cat hairs on them. 

God he is so hot for a nerd!!!

“So, what can I do for you today, I’m Y/n by the way,” you smiled again and you could swear you creeped him out by the way he started sweating. It was hot as hell inside but still, his ears turned red and the tapes he was carrying under his arm were starting to slip from his grip. He quickly put them in the pocket of his hoodie, smiling awkwardly and glancing at Mingyu behind his frames. 

You glanced at Mingyu too, who began chuckling, losing for a moment his track on the plot of the movie he was explaining. 

“Are you going to return those?” you extended your hand but he stood still, tapes still packed into his hoodie. “No?,” you asked again. He opened his mouth briefly but smacked his lips loudly looking at the ceiling. 

He looked at Mingyu and his expression changed from mortified to annoyed. He bit his cheek and took a deep breath before taking out the tapes and laying them one on top of another before you. 

Night of the Giving Head, A Beautiful Behind, Yank my Doodle! It's a Dandy!, and Throbin Hood laid on the counter before you.

There was a few seconds of silence, only broken up by Mingyu’s suppressed wheeze. You cleared your throat lightly, taking the tapes and checking if they were rewinded. “Oh a rewinder, that’s unusual!” you chuckled dryly not really knowing how to break the wall of ice that suddenly appeared in front of you.

“I didn’t watch them,” He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “That’s why they are- anyway.” He sighed and stopped, releasing it seemed like he was making up excuses for not one in particular. 

“You don’t have to explain,” You tried to sound friendly and not make a big deal, but you had so many questions and this selection was the last thing you expected to see him with. “We are a judging free video store,” the words coming out mechanically as you remembered the training video Mingyu played for you once on your first day.

“Yeah…It’s not… Can we please get this over with quickly?,” He returned to his mortified expression and you nodded quickly annotating the returns on the logbook. “Thanks,” He smiled awkwardly at you before tapping the counter once, glancing quickly at Mingyu one more time before sprinting out.

“He’s going to murder me, but oh god, it was worth it!”

Mingyu was now smiling ear to ear, waving goodbye to the last girl that visited the shop for the day, her phone number written on his palm. “I got no more sticky notes left,” he said before sticking his hand out to her.

“Yeah that was… I didn’t even know we had these.” you were sweeping the floors as the store was about to close, keeping yourself busy for the rest of the day still thinking about the Night of The Giving Head cover inside your mind. “Wait, he’s your friend, does he only watch porn?.” 

Mingyu laughed loudly, helping you out by taking the trash bags out of the bins and emptied them in one big plastic bag. “Maybe, why do you ask?” he arched his eyebrows at you. 

“No reason, it was just- he doesn’t look like the porn addict type.” 

Mingyu laughed louder. “Wait till I tell him you think he’s a porn addict!” He collected the dust you were sweeping onto the plastic bag, making a knot and throwing it on his shoulders. 

“Wait! Why would you tell him that?!” 

“No reason…” he smirked, walking outside to take out the trash. 

.

.

.

The next week the store got busier than usual, so Mingyu and you barely got to chat with each other about cat-boy or anything really. He had also switched shifts to train a new employee, a younger guy, probably a highschooler, who he spent most of the time in the mornings, leaving you alone to take care of the closing shift. 

Saturday came quickly, and you were alone in the shop. Lights were almost all out, and you were finishing stocking some new tapes that came that afternoon, the last task before officially closing. 

Somehow the humid air was insufferable even by night time, so you were sweating bullets over the thick fabric of your uniform shirt. You couldn’t believe they made you wear this in this hot weather, but alas, you were transpiring and melting under it. 

As you finished putting the tapes on their respective shelfs, you walked towards the bathroom where you had a spare shirt, not before turning the volume of the radio a little, you played music a lot in the shop and the customers seemed to like your taste more like Mingyu’s.

Once there, humming to Bills Bills Bills, you were looking for your spare shirt when you noticed you it wasn’t there. “What the-?” you cursed under your breath, sure you had one hanging on the stall reserved for staff. One glance at the sweaty uniform shirt you just took off and you knew you won’t be wearing that again. “Come on, I already put roll-on….” you whined. Then you remembered there were a couple of uniform shirts in the lockers, maybe too big for you but that would do for today and you will return them tomorrow. 

And so you were signing,

Can you pay my telephone bills?, 

Can you pay my automo’ bills? 

If you did, maybe we could chill…. 

When suddenly the tall figure of cat-boy appeared in front of you right by the counter. He stared. And you stared back. And his eyes stayed on your face for a a few seconds, but they quickly drifted a little down, on your lace see through bra, nonetheless.

“What the fuck?!” you shouted, sprinting towards the locker room. 

“Im sorry! I knocked, and the lights were on…. I thought…” you could hear him speak but there was a high ringing pitch in your ears that made his voice fade away as you took one of the spare uniform shirts and slipped in over your head. “The fuck you needed to wear a see through one today, huh?!” you covered your face with both palms.

“I’m sorry… I better go…”

You heard footsteps and shouted “No!” back but when you were out you could only see his back walk out the door.

You blew raspberries, feeling insufferably hot under the hot fabric of the oversized uniform shirt, that covered you like a circus carp. “Too much for our second encounter, cat-boy.” 

.

.

.

The next day you got to the store a little early, trying to catch Mingyu before he left for the day, and to your surprise, he was waiting for you.

“A nipple piercing!” 

“Good afternoon to you too!” you sighed, walking towards the locker room with Mingyu’s tail wagging at your ankles. “And how could he notice that?! It was dark!” you threw your backpack at your locker, huffing and puffing, ignoring Mingyu’s curious eyes.

“I guess he was really paying attention,” he teased. You shot him a glare and he raised his arms signaling peace. “Hey, don’t be mad that he told me, I’m his best friend and well, he actually came looking for you, how could he know you liked walking around the store naked when you were on shift alone?” 

“I-wasn’t-naked.” you slapped the locker room shut. “Wait… he came looking out for me?”

Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows in response. 

“Tell me everything, or else.”

“He likes you, duh.” Mingyu moved toward his locker, pretending to roam for something but you knew there wasn’t anything there. “He has had his eyes on you, since the first day he saw you working here.”

“But why hasn't he talked to me? He always comes in and it’s gone in a second.” 

Mingyu clicked his tongue. “He had a bad break up two years ago, and honestly he’s pretty shy, maybe that’s why we are such good friends, we balance each other…” you crossed your arms signaling he was deviating from the topic. “... So he wasn’t sure how to approach you, he has been coming here asking me to be a wingman but I refused, I was trying to encourage him so I told him you were going to be alone yesterday.”

You sighed, walking out the locker room with Mingyu behind you, ready to get off.

“Want me to tell W-”

“NOO!” you shouted, making the couple of customers in the store turn their heads at you. “Don’t tell me his name, I want him to tell me when he finally comes and talks to me.”

Mingyu chuckled and nodded, messing your head a little in sign of encouragement. “Get him, tiger. I’ll pass the note out.” He winked and you shrugged as he walked out the store.

Needless to say, all the way to the evening your stomach was swirling inside you. You jumped a little every time the doorbell chimed, and it sank back to your stomach everytime cat-boy wasn’t the one entering.

It was almost seven and you were waving goodbye to the last customer of the day before you changed the sign from open to closed, when you heard the bell one more time. 

The couple of teens walked past cat-boy as he entered the store and they walked out. You could hear loud stomps inside your chest, and you were pretty sure they were so loud he could hear them too. You looked at the mirror wall to your left, and despite being a few feet away you could spot the newest shades of red adorning your face. 

As he walked closer, you smiled shyly, spotting the same color on him too.

“Hey,” he waved so tiny that you felt like your body was becoming butter, cause despite standing up, you felt melted, all over the floor. 

“Hi,” you replied back, not knowing what to say really. Dissociating a little from the awkwardness you focused on him. All of him. His fluffy hair, not hiding under a cap this time. The black thick frames. He was wearing a black sweater, a turtle neck one. Few noticeable white hairs on it. You remembered marshmallow, your cat, and smiled without noticing. 

“Y/n,?” you heard his voice crack, noticing you smiling.

“Sorry! Seeing the cat hair on your sweater reminded me of mine.”

“You have cats?” his eyes became a little bigger. “Me too!”

“Yeah.. I can tell by the cat hair,” you chuckled.

“Right…” he scratched the back of his head. “Well I have a couple.. A few.” 

“I love cats! I only have marshmallow because my landlord doesn’t let me have more, but one day I will!” you were glad you mentioned the cat hair cause this gave you a shot to talk more comfortably. “By the way, did Mingyu tell you my name?”

“I asked him, the first day I saw you here working.”

“Not fair, I didn't let him tell me yours.”

“Huh?” He arched his eyebrows, puzzled. 

“He told me you came looking for me yesterday… Sorry you find me like that, I swear I don’t usually walk around naked when I’m alone here…”

He laughed. “Mingyu told me you probably did.”

You scoffed. “He’s the whore not I.” 

“Can’t defend him from that,” He lowered his head a little, “Sorry I told him about your… well I was frantic after seeing you like that and ran straight to his dorm, I was too shocked I guess, I wasn’t trying to be a creep.”

“And what about the pornos? Night of the Giving Head, seriously?” 

“That was Mingyu! He dropped them at my dorm the night before telling me I should distract myself from being a coward and not talk to you…” He speaked fast and you were trying to follow up. “I swear I didn’t watched them, I tried, but they were too tacky”

“There’s tasteful porn?” you laughed.

“There should be… somewhere” he laughed back. 

“Bet the bastard wanted you to return them so I could catch you myself!” 

“He a hundred percent did.” 

There was a moment of silence after the laugh, and you felt like staring at the floor because looking at him was becoming addicting too quickly. 

“Want me to help you close? I want you to walk out with me for a while, maybe get some coffee?” He suddenly speaks, and you snap out of the mental image of you two sitting on your couch, a few cats around. 

“Uh- well I just need to take out the trash and I’m ready, I- would love that,” He smiles from ear to ear and stands straight, making you notice he’s like, really really tall. 

“I’ll help you with that, be ready when I come back!” He sprinted towards the entrance where the two plastic bags laid one beside the other and took them out. You run towards the bathroom as soon as he’s out, changing your ugly uniform shirt into your spare one, feeling relieved when you notice is there this time. After putting roll on, combing your hair a little and putting some perfume you walk out, finding him waiting for you near the entrance.

He asks if he can wash his hands and once that’s done you close up, and you start walking beside him to nowhere in particular. 

You suggest walking to your recent favorite spot, a part cafe, part flower shop near your apartment. Walking there you talk about your studies, the tedious but fun times at the video store, his job at the library (he was such a nerd!), his and your cat, about everything and nothing in particular, and time just flew by so quickly.

“This is so nice, I didn’t even notice the hour!” you say checking the casio watch on your wrist. And he does the same. 

“Let me walk you home, I would feel bad by letting you take a cab at this hour.”

“It’s not far away…” you object but he insists. “Fine, but just by the door, what if you are indeed a creep or something!” He pouts and gives you the stink eye. You laughed, delighted how quickly you became comfortable with each other.

Once at your door you ask him to give you his palm. “I learned this trick from our dear Gyu,” you say, taking out a sharpie pen from your backpack and writing your number on his palm. “There, call me as soon as you get home, I’m not done talking to you.”

You thanked him for the coffee and sprinted towards your complex door without letting him say anything else. 

A quarter to eleven, your phone starts ringing. 

Grabbing the cordless phone from its base and throwing yourself over your bed you answer. “Hello?,” 

“I was about to tell you my name and ask you on a proper date,” you heard his shaky voice from the other line. He must have literally run or sprinted towards his own apartment. “But you ran away.” 

You smiled, twirling your hair, eyes closed remembering every moment since you closed the video store a few hours ago.

“Y/n?,” 

“Not yet cat-boy, I want you to tell me only after you first kiss me.” A few moments of silence before he speaks again, you can’t see him but you know he’s smiling too.

“Deal, then I won’t be cat-boy much longer.”

@mingsolo please don't repost/translate to any sites.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

older!biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!Reader

90's au//Part 6

🚨18+ Only, MDNI, smut, dry humping, thigh riding, squirting (not reader), implied smut, mild violence, jealousy, alcohol consumption, reader feels betrayed (not by Eddie), smoking cigarettes, mention of tattoo placement on reader, biker gang, mention of poverty, loved one in hospital, fear of loss, mention of sex with people other than reader and Eddie Word count: 6.8k

In the aftermath of the adrenaline rush of Fight Night, Eddie disappears again to take care of a family emergency. The two of you share another intimate moment and have a nice night together just before everything starts to unravel. The connection you two share, and everything in your little world, is about to be tested.

Series Masterlist here

A/N: This is turning into the biker!Eddie Munson soap opera I didn't know I needed. I have lots of storyline ideas ahead for this, hopefully I can execute them as well as I want to. As always, thank you for reading ❤️‍🔥 It's difficult to catch errors when I edit myself, but I do my best. Spotify playlist: here

Eddie was holding your face between his hands, kissing you deep, his tongue flicking in every so often to make contact with yours. This is really happening, you tell yourself, sliding one hand up into his hair, the roots damp with sweat, jaw muscles stretching to take each other deeper. He pulled back a few times to plant kisses on your mouth, the tip of your nose, and then he pressed his lips to your forehead and hovered there while your hands slid up his slick chest, his body radiating heat. The DJ played something by Jane’s Addiction and the world seemed to continue on around you, and then your finger began to trace the intricate bat tattoo on his chest, the mouth of it was ancient, feral, and dripping blood.

He leaned back to make eye contact with you and he winked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Damn, you’re so beautiful,” and then he cleared his throat and dropped one hand from your face as Steve stepped up near him.

“Sorry to interrupt, man, but I need a minute,” Steve Harrington said, cocking his head to the side.

Eddie squeezed your hand and told you he’d be right back while he motioned for Steve to walk with him. “Follow me back to my place. I need to put a shirt on.” He turned around when they were a handful of steps away to look at you again, and of course you were still staring at him; he stifled a smile.

Even though the fights and the entertainment were over, the crowd hadn’t thinned out very much. The music had started back up and groups were headed back for more beer. You took the opportunity to go over to the fence and spit out some of the blood still in your mouth, and Katie came over to ask if you were okay, her hand rubbing your back.

“Let me see,” she said, referring to you your mouth injury. She winced when she noticed that the lower part of your jaw was swollen. “Not a dull moment in this friendship. Sip of beer?” She asked, holding her cup up.

The thought almost made you gag for some reason and you shook your head. “Where’s Robin and Jeff? Are they okay?”

Katie tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and fixed the neckline of your shirt. “Jeff is somewhere with that young biker stud, and Robin went to bring the jeep around. You have everything you came with? The clown car is leaving.”

You hesitated, because you didn’t want to leave, but you had to be at work early the next day, and you needed to get some ice on your face to keep it from getting worse. “Sure,” you looked across the parking lot. “Just let me find Eddie and say goodbye to him.”

By the time the two of you took a few seconds to look for Jeff and made it through the crowd, Eddie was no longer at the compound.

“Munson? He left,” one of the Hell’s Belles with short black hair told you, a cigarette bouncing between her lips.. “He took off a few seconds ago. Like a bat out of hell.”

To say you were disappointed would be an understatement, but there had to be good reason. Plus, you knew the guy was exhausted; he wouldn’t just take off on a joy ride for the hell of it.

Steve had no clue where Eddie went.

“But, you were the last one to talk to him, right?” Your tongue licked out to feel the rawness of your lower lip. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” Steve bleated, arms out in a shrug. His hair was usually slicked back and tight, but because of the brawl, it was adorably messy with a strand hanging down over his eyebrow, “Nothing that would make him bolt. I was just telling him which guys still owed money from the fights, but he didn’t really give a shit.”

You wondered if he lived the double life of a super secret agent: the 007 of bikers.

“He did get a phone call,” Steve offered. “But I didn’t hang around to hear who it was.”

Parked out at the curb, Robin honked her horn, and it looked like Jeff was already in the jeep with her.

Erika and her friends walked by, throwing you dirty looks as they went, but you really didn’t give a shit about them in that moment.

“Why is Robin in such a hurry all of a sudden?” Katie asked Steve, arms crossed over her stomach as the three of you shuffled to the gate at a trot.

“We hired a babysitter for tonight, a neighborhood girl, really nice, but Robin’s always annoyingly nervous to leave Ollie with new people.”

Robin honked again, even though she could see that you were all moving in that direction, but clearly not fast enough. You turned in a circle, taking one more look around for Eddie before you got in the jeep, but he had officially evaporated.

-------

By the next afternoon, you still hadn’t heard from Eddie, and so you had your other assistant watch the front of the gallery while you hid in the back room to call his place, only to find that there was no answer. The first unromantic gift you planned to get for him was an answering machine.

Robin, Katie, and Oliver showed up to the gallery event looking adorable, after you encouraged them with talk of fresh crab legs and expensive goat cheese from France you could barley pronounce. Steve was working at the tattoo shop, but Oliver looked extremely dapper in red trousers, a black, short sleeve button down shirt and a red bow tie. He was still getting used to you, so he was on the quiet side, but he showed an intense amount of interest as you explained the mediums that were used in some of the artwork.

“Ollie loves to paint and draw, don’t you Ollie?” Robin asked him, but when you made eye contact to hear his answer, he shyly tucked his chin. Toward the end of their visit, though, there was a tiny finger tap on the side of your leg, and you looked down to find two big brown eyes like saucers staring up at you from under long, dark lashes. The boy was irrefutably Steve’s clone.

He curled his hand a few times, motioning for you to bend down, closer to him. “That one is my favorite,” he told you, pointing to one of the really loud, colorful abstract pieces.

“That’s my favorite too,” you whispered, in all seriousness, which afforded you an impish smile and a few consecutive nods of the head before he traveled back to take Robin’s hand.

Katie held her wine glass to her lips to muffle her words as she leaned closer to you. “Judith is looking exceptionally MILF this evening, in a Morticia kind of way.” She was referring to the owner of the gallery, who only popped in once in a great while to boast her importance in the community. Just at that moment, Judith, with her black hair styled in a short, severe asymmetrical bob, made eye contact with you and offered one of those unreadable, passive-aggressive expressions that always made your mind scramble to figure out what you had done wrong. Nothing, you reminded yourself, you’d done nothing wrong. Except, maybe, steal a lover away from one of the wealthiest women in the state, who also just happened to be one of Judith’s country club pals. Had Charlene put the pieces together and realized who you were and where you worked? It wouldn’t be a herculean feat; it was a small town and there were only a handful of galleries in the area. But suddenly, it dawned on you, that it probably wasn’t the brightest career move to make, being that much of your current livelihood depended on the support from people in Charlene’s circle.

All the same, who sits around fretting over a reputation or a career when you could be with Eddie? Definitely not you.

“Still no word from Batman?” You asked Robin as the three of them headed for the door.

Robin pressed her lips together so that her mouth became a thin, pensive line, the silver ball from her lip ring sliding to one side, and she shook her head. “No, and I haven’t been able to get a hold of Wayne either, so we’re going to drive by his place once we leave here.”

You’d be at the gallery for another hour after the event was over to clean up, and so you gave Robin one of their business cards with the phone number on it. “Please let me know what you find out?”

When you said the final goodbyes, it was dusk, and you poked your head out the door to watch them trot off down the sidewalk: Oliver in the middle, with Katie and Robin on either side, holding his hands. At one point he jumped and they swung him a few feet, giggling as he went. You weren’t much of a crier, but for some reason, the sight made tears well up in your eyes.

Jeff had the weekend off, but you found out from your other assistant, Holly, that Judith had gone home, and the news made your shoulders drop with relief. The sidewalk was bustling when the two of you locked the doors, busy with couples and friends coming in and out of the various bars and restaurants on your street. There was that buzz of spring time excitement in the air; people coming out of their caves after a long winter, ready to shake off the cobwebs and show off their pedicures.

You told Holly to take home whatever she wanted from the leftover spread of food. “You can head home, I’ll finish the rest of this up,” you assured her. Holly had just turned 21 recently, and you knew she was aching to get out and enjoy her active social life. You, on the other hand, were daydreaming about a quality night stretched out on the sofa after the events of the previous evening. Holly went out the back door, and you stayed to watch and make sure she got to her car safely before locking yourself into the building, and that’s when the phone rang.

The floor was extra smooth in the back hall, and you slipped a bit as you quickly spun around, pushing yourself off the wall, arms pumping to gain momentum as you bolted for the beige landline mounted on the wall in the office.

“Thank you for calling Moon River Gallery, this is----”

At the other end was Robin. “Wayne was rushed to the hospital last night,” she said with a sniff, as if she’d just been crying. “He’s okay now, but I’m pissed that Eddie didn’t tell anyone.”

Your heart sank as you leaned your hip against the table. “Oh, no, what happened?”

She sniffed again. “I’m not really sure. I guess they put him on some different meds, and he got lightheaded and fell...and hit his head on the...on the….” her voice trembled and she couldn’t get it out, and so Katie took the phone.

“Hi, it’s me,” Katie said. “He hit his head on the kitchen counter as he went down and he’s banged up. It looks worse than it is though, he’s going to be totally fine,” you could tell she was saying it more to Robin than to you. “Sorry it took so long to call, we just got back from the hospital. He was sleeping, but we got to see him.”

“No, you’re good, I’m so glad you called,” you flicked the light switches that turned off all of the artwork spot lights and the main over head, so the only illumination was in the front windows, the back room where you were, and the deep blue glow from light strips on the main floor. You had not yet officially met uncle Wayne, but you knew how much he meant to all of them, especially Eddie. “What about Eddie? Was he at the hospital?”

“Eddie left when we got there,” Katie sounded confused. “He said he was going to find you.”

------

Getting a call like that from the hospital put Eddie’s head in a dark place. It sent him into survival mode; he couldn’t deal with anything else until he knew that Wayne was okay. He stayed by Wayne’s bed that night, wide awake, eyes bloodshot, knee bouncing, thinking about loving people only to lose them in the end. Fear curled its icy hand around his heart; Eddie had already lost so many people he cared about, he worried that one more would break him.

And then his thoughts rushed to you. The two of you were barely a thing, and already the idea of losing you made his eyes go black with the idea of an emptiness that had the potential to gut him beyond repair. His first instinct was to distance himself from you; he was eerily adept at closing himself off, blocking the world out, and pushing people away. In his life, whenever something good happened, he was always very suspicious about what type of disaster was right around the corner.

Yet, all he wanted in the world at that moment—besides someone to tell him that Wayne’s cancer was miraculously cured---was for you to be there with him in that dark, lonely hospital room. Machines beeping, the smell of antiseptic and bleach and dread. If you could be in his lap, he’d wrap his arms around you and close his eyes and put his head to your chest, and you’d promise him in that sweet voice of yours that nothing bad would ever happen to you, and you’d always be his. You couldn’t promise those things, and he knew that, but the idea of resting his face against the side of your neck did help him to get an hour of sleep in a very stiff chair that was too small for him.

Wayne woke up early in the morning, and Eddie was able to talk with him a bit, and get an idea of what to expect from the nurses. Once he knew that Wayne was in good hands, and he could stop spinning his wheels, he had to go back to work and take care of the three tows that were already lined up. There was one other driver, but business had been growing, and he almost needed to hire a third. Now, he also needed to find an office assistant, even though Wayne kept protesting the idea. No one could replace Wayne, but the part time help would lessen his burdens.

He should’ve called to let Robin and Steve know what happened, he realized that now, and he should’ve called you, but the day got so damn busy so fast, and since Wayne was okay, he didn’t want to alarm anyone needlessly. He’s lucky Robin didn’t slap him across the face, because she looked like she was about to.

By the time he finished up at the garage and went over to check on Wayne one more time, it was late---but he needed to see you. He had to see your face before his heart exploded.

--------

You had just hung up from the phone call with Katie and Robin when you jumped at the sound of a soft tapping noise. At first, you didn’t know where it was coming from, and your ear prickled as you tried to use it as an antennae to guide you to the sound. The main floor was full of shadows; only dark blue atmosphere lights that made you feel like you were in an aquarium, and the illumination from the front window.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

You stepped around one of the big, freestanding artwork dividers, just as you realized the sound was coming from the front window.

And then you saw him.

Shrouded in the residual purple darkness of a sunset, standing at the front door with one knee out to the side, hand down low, knuckle casually but repetitively hitting the glass. Wearing all black; jeans, leather, shirt, the only color peaking out was from his tattoos. Your eyes found each other at the same time, just as you came into view, and it was all you could do not to start giggling and skipping along at how happy you were to see him.

You tried to wipe the smile off of your face as you headed for the door. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed,” you were shaking your head, frowning, trying to act like you didn’t know who he was.

The stern look on his face slipped a little at the corners of his mouth, but he maintained intense eye contact with you, continuing the tap...tap…tap, with the hand that said “H-E-L-L” across the knuckles while the other knuckles spelled out “F-I-R-E”, until you got closer and there was nothing but a pane of glass between the two of you. You broke eye contact just long enough to twist open the double locks, and then he stood there in the doorway bit longer, bracing his arm high on the frame; shirt and coat rising to show the hint of a tattoo at his hip.

“Can I take you to dinner? Are you hungry?” He asked as you motioned him in. He was reluctant because he didn’t think he’d be allowed in there. Much like a vampire, he had to be invited.

“Sure, but, it’s late,” you said as you secured the door again. He turned to you, about to say something else, but then you closed in on him, grabbing onto his jacket with both hands, hips coming together, and he brought his hands to rest on the top of your shoulders. “I’m really glad Wayne is okay,” you whispered, regarding him with the utmost sincerity.

He played with a wisp of hair at the base of your neck. “I should’ve called you, but I--”

“You’re here now,” you beamed. His left eye was swollen, with a bit of bluish black discoloration, and there was a tiny butterfly band-aid over the small cut above his eyebrow.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he returned in a low voice, bending down to kiss your lips, gripping one side of your neck as he did, his thumb stretching up over your jaw. You moaned against his mouth and the sound made his brow clench, stretching his other hand down to casually adjust himself in his jeans.

He moved his hand around the back of your neck as you pulled apart, his eyes trained on your mouth. “How is your tongue?” He almost couldn’t even talk about it, the idea of you getting hit in the face—even accidentally—made him want to start punching walls.

You raised your eyebrows a few times. “I could still eat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“There’s that all night diner down a couple streets,” his voice a low mumble. “They have those vegetarian burger things, I checked.”

For some reason, that thoughtful gesture sent you even further over the moon about him, and you slipped one hand into his back pocket while the other one played with his wallet chain. “And what will you have? A big, fat steak?”

“The bloodier the better,” he said, running the tip of his tongue over his lower lip.

You planted another quick kiss on him, and then, “here, follow me. I just have one more thing to finish up and then we can go get some blood in your mouth again.”

The front desk against the wall was long and rectangular and came up to your waist. You pulled one of the stools out from under the alcove and placed it next to you so that he could have a seat while you finished sorting some invoices under the dim blue light. Eddie sat with his back against a filing cabinet, legs spread wide, one hand on his hip, the other forearm on his thigh, the hand with the digital wrist watch hanging down between. He tilted his head to watch you as you bent over several times to scribble something on a piece of paper.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered, and you threw him a bashful look over your shoulder. “Come to me,” and he slapped his hand on his leg a few times, directing you where to sit. “You’re too far away.”

He probably meant for you to side-saddle him like he was Santa Claus, but instead, you slid your skirt up your thighs and straddled his whole leg, facing him, like you were about to ride his thigh like a horse, hands braced on his chest. Eddie smirked at how you crawled onto him, he cupped one palm under your butt cheek and popped his knee a few times so that you were, indeed, riding him.

“I like it when you call me baby,” you told him as he brought a hand up to either side of your face, tucking hair behind your ears, brushing his thumb across your skin, metal rings cool as they scissored your ear.

“Yeah?” He asked, dark eyes searching yours. “What else do you like?”

You brought your hand up and ran your finger down his full lips, gently pulling the bottom one open as you went. “I like your mouth.”

He kissed your finger, said a quiet, “you can have it,” and then, with both hands, pulled your face to his, lips parting, tongues exploring, faces turning to avoid noses and lick deeper, hungry moans rising. You slipped a hand around the side of his warm throat, dipping your fingers into the downy hair at the base of his skull, his tiny silver cross earring grazing your hand.

It was only then that you became aware of the grinding you were doing on his leg, and by the time you were aware of it, you didn't want to stop. You needed it, you were drunk on the sweetness of his mouth, the spicy pine and leather of his scent. It was one of the first warm nights in a while, and so you weren’t wearing nylons or tights, and the thin material of your underwear was the only barrier between his denim and your cookie box.

Eddie knew what was happening from the first twitch of your pelvis, and one of his hands slid down to your hip, locking you there, encouraging it. You started to push off of the balls of your feet to deepen the friction as the need for stimulation increased.

“That’s my baby,” Eddie growled as you put your forehead to his. He slid his hand around to make a fist in your hair, pulling your head back so that he could have access to your throat. He sucked at your pulse point, groaning as he did so, while your other hand clung to his jacket for dear life.

The hair tug made you whimper. “That,” you breathed. “I like that too.”

He tightened his grip, taking control of your head, forcing your lips back to his for another deep kiss. He was lifting his leg to meet your needs now, anticipating the rhythm. “Good girl, I got you,” his voice was barely a murmur, lips grazing yours. You started to saw faster back and forth on his leg, slipping one hand down to his other thigh to anchor you, caught unaware at how good it felt and how close you were.

Outside, people were still passing by on the sidewalk, finishing up with their dinners and heading home, or to a bar, but the desk blocked you from view so no one could see that you were rocking like a cowgirl bound for hell.

Your underwear were soaked now, seeping onto his jeans; your cunt swollen and aching against the perfect mix of friction against his denim. You were breathless, mumbling the answer to an unasked question, “uh huh uh huh oh god,” as he put your forehead back to his, one hand still clenched in your hair. You were whispering incoherent parts of words, saying his name, and then you started to feel a spring bounce open inside of you. Eddie could feel it too; you trembled and choked his name one more time, and then you fell forward, curling against him with quickened thrusts.

He tilted his head so that your mouth could find his neck to use as a muffle for your scream, your tongue melting on the salt of his skin. His strong arms secured your body to his as you continued to grind on his leg. “I got you, baby, cum for me…” he coaxed, bracing your hip and the back of your head.

But it wouldn’t take much coaxing, because suddenly you were there: stiffening up against him, letting out a sharp cry just below his ear, one hand holding the other side of his head as if you were feeding on his jugular. His grip on you tightened as your body shuddered, going blind for a second, whimpering against his throat.

Eddie let out a guttural curse as the wetness from your warm pussy penetrated the skin beneath his denim, pre-cum soaking the tip of his cock inside his jeans in response. You let your full weight fall against him, safe, knowing he wouldn’t let you fall, pussy contracting in the afterglow, face buried in his neck and hair.

“Damn, what was that,” you gasped once you were finally able to speak, shoulders trembling in the afterquake. Should you be embarassed? You’d never cum like that before in your life.

He gave a throaty chuckle, his hand rubbing up and down on your back. “I won’t be washing these jeans for a while.”

You were starting to sit up, smoothing your hair back and licking your lips, when you noticed the cherry red glow of a hickey appearing on his neck surrounded by some teeth indentations. “Oops,” you ran your thumb over it, thinking it might be lipstick. “I marked you, now I guess that means you’re mine.”

“I’m fine with it,” his serious eyes found yours from under hooded, sleepy lids.

You were both starving by the time you locked up the gallery, and Eddie’s bike was parked close, so you agreed to ride with him, and then he’d bring you back to your car after. You had brought a change of clothes with you, as you always did so that you could get out of your fussy gallery clothes as quickly as possible, and now you were comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt with your black converse. You hadn’t thought to bring a change of underwear, but you would from now on.

Out on the sidewalk, you eyeballed the big beast of a bike with only a tiny space on the seat for a second rider. He lit a smoke and passed you the helmet that had been hanging on one of his handlebars.

You looked down at it. “But, don’t you need to wear this?”

He shook his head, cigarette pressed between his lips. “I only have one with me, and your head is more important than mine.” He zipped up his jacket and swung one leg over, mounting it.

He could tell you were hesitating. “We’re only going a couple blocks,” he assured you. “If you hate it, you never have to get on this thing again.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you scrambled to find the right words as you strapped your bag across your body put the helmet on, tightening the chin strap. The helmet was way too big for you and you worried you looked like a real dork. “I’m just not sure...how to do this.”

He hitched his chin at you, planting his feet on either side to hold the chopper steady. “Grab onto the back of my jacket, put this foot here...and then swing the other one over.”

Once you were on, you adjusted your bum on the seat and held onto the sides of his leather, fingers clawing at him nervously, letting him know that you were ready.

Eddie kicked the beast to life with a hop and a twist of his fits on the handlebars; it growled its obedience loud and fierce. People stopped on either side of the street to turn and see where the noise was coming from, and most of them stayed to watch as Eddie walked the massive, menacing bike out to get a clean shot in through the passing cars.

He took one of your hands and brought it around so that it was at his stomach, your chin at his shoulder. “Hold on tight, baby,” he called to you over the roar, and then he lifted his feet and the two of you shot into the night, his discarded cigarette bouncing to the pavement in a dance of orange sparks.

A few cars away, down at the dark end of the street, a white Jaguar idled with the headlights off, and the blonde woman behind the wheel cursed under her breath as she watched the two of you go, anger and jealousy tightening her face. Charlene Gregson was smoking a cigarette, too, and on the exhale, she hissed, “I’m going to make her regret she ever met you, Edward Munson.”

---------

Katie’s eyes rolled back in her head as Robin’s fingers worked her in the perfect spot, “fuck, right there right there,” and then Robin put her other hand over Katie’s mouth to keep her quiet as her orgasm mounted. Oliver was asleep across the hall, and Steve was having a beer in front of the TV after just getting off work. Her cries properly muffled, Robin curled the fingers of her other hand deep in the honey pot and bent her head to find Katie’s nipple with her mouth.

Katie was trying to tell her something, heels digging into the bed, her body gyrating against Robin’s hand. Robin thought she was just really vocal in bed, but then she felt the warm spray coat her hand in bursts, and that’s when she found out, in a moment of awe, that Katie was a squirter.

--------

On Sunday, Katie was working on lessons plans for the first day back after break, but you convinced her to let you take her out to dinner. Later on, you showed up at the tattoo shop Steve worked at just as he was bent over inking a big lower back butterfly for a woman. You flipped through the flash in the tattoo books, talking about maybe getting matching ones. Katie had a tattoo on her ankle, and you had one on your shoulder blade in honor of your grandmother, but neither of you were close to the quantity and quality of work that Steve, Robin, and Eddie had, but you had to start somewhere.

“Did you know that Robin has had two of her girlfriend’s names tattooed on her?” Katie asked you, loud enough for Steve to hear.

Still focused on what he was working on, Steve joined the conversation. “Hey, I didn’t put those names on her, but I was excited when she let me cover them up.”

Robin was at work that afternoon; at one of her side gigs as a maid at one of the fancy local hotels, and it was optimal because she was always able to bring Oliver with her. He loved taking home the tiny shampoo bottles and soaps.

“I can always draw up a design for you girls, if you have something in mind,” Steve announced, looking up briefly as the two of you came up to the counter to say goodbye.

“What do you think?” Katie turned to you, one eyebrow up. “Maybe a dotted line across our throats that says ‘cut here’?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I did that one,” Steve mumbled.

---------

On the opposite side of town in the industrial district, Eddie had a guy by the throat and was sliding him up a brick wall in an alley, holding him there, his feet off the ground, trying to kick out feebly.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Eddie asked him with a tilt of his head, voice calm but eyes narrowed.

The guy was struggling for air, spitting, face going blue, and all he could do was bare his teeth in a slobbery grimace.

“Check his pockets,” Eddie told the other two bikers that were with him, bracing the guy against the wall like he weighed nothing.

The object of Eddie’s chokehold was a weaselly snake of a man named Rollo who borrowed a large sum of money under Eddie’s name from the Coffin Kings, gambled it all away, and tried to split town. Eddie was supposed to bust his knee caps, but scaring the actual piss out of him, and taking his wallet was punishment enough, he felt. Eddie could be a very violent man if he wanted to, but only on his terms and never at anyone else’s command. Rollo’s two other friends were on the ground; one was unconscious and the other one was doubled over in pain.

“Look in my eyes,” Eddie told Rollo as the other guys found Rollo’s wallet and continued digging around for whatever else he had on him. “The next time you see these eyes, you won’t be able to walk away on two legs, do you understand?”

Rollo nodded a few tiny nods, and Eddie released his hand, letting his body slump to the ground against the wall, coughing, trying to swallow. He was stocky with a beer belly, but short, bald with a goatee.

“Now, get the fuck out of here,” Eddie grumbled as he turned on his heel. “Get the hell out of this town if you know what’s good for you.”

Eddie released a heavy sigh as he mounted his bike, pausing just for a second to remember how tight your body had been pressed against him the night before, the way you had clung to him for dear life, screaming a little when he turned corners. At dinner, you held his hand across the table, right in front of everyone, as if being with a grease monkey and a thug like him didn’t bother you at all. He didn’t know you’d grown up poor, with an alcoholic mother, and you had to learn to be scrappy as hell to get the things you wanted—nothing had been handed to you. He assumed that the two of you had grown up on opposite side of the tracks, in a sense, that you were perfect and polished, and one day soon, you’d realize that he was far from it.

He should’ve been on top of the world knowing that he had you to look forward to, but Eddie had a bad feeling in his gut that he couldn’t ignore. That ominous, invisible tug reminding him that something was about to go wrong was ever-present.

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

There was a downpour on Sunday night, and you were just about to check the answering machine to see if Eddie called while Katie started her yoga practice in the living room, when Jeff showed up at your door unannounced. The frantic knocking on the front window made you both jump, and then, there he was in a big, clear poncho with a hood over his head. He shook himself out on the porch before he came in all the way, unbuttoning his slicker to hang it on one of the coat hooks. Jeff had never been to your place before, so you were amused at how he just made himself at home. He took his shoes off before he stepped onto the carpet, even though that wasn’t something either of you required of your house guests.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” He demanded, clearly distraught, looking around as if to check and see where the phone in question was.

“We just got home a little bit ago,” Katie told him, sitting up on her mat to pull her knees to her chest. “What’s going on?”

“Did you listen to the message I left?” He pressed, eyes wide and blinking dramatically at you.

The light was flashing on the machine and your finger was on the button to play the messages back, but you hadn’t pushed it yet, and you flipped a glance at Katie, your heart racing a little.

“Jeff,” you sighed, exasperated. “Please, you’re here, just tell me.”

Jeff puffed out a long breath, hang high on his hip. “First, tell me why you’re leaving the gallery. Is it because of me?”

Disbelief took hold of you initially; you were sure Jeff had just overheard something wrong or made a mistake.

Jeff continued. “If it’s not because of me, and you’re just going to a better gallery, please, take me with you?”

“Hold on,” you put your hand up, trying to make sense of what he was saying as you sat down in the wood chair by the phone. “What made you think I was quitting?”

Jeff’s disturbingly bright blue eyes softened as they found yours and he realized that you didn’t know what he was talking about.

He went over and took a seat at one of the padded bar stools next to the kitchen island, and then he looked down at his hands, suddenly wishing he would’ve waited for you to check your messages.

“I had to go in and get my check late today because I was gone Saturday,” he paused almost as if that was the end of it, but then he lifted his head, an apologetic look on his face as he looked at you. “Judith said I needed to come in for a couple hours on Wednesday to train with the new manager because you were leaving.”

You froze, letting that sink in. Still an element of denial present, you wondered if maybe Jeff heard Judith wrong---perhaps another manager from a different gallery was visiting? But, if so, why wouldn’t you know about it? Why would Judith tell Jeff about it and not you?

“Hunny?” Katie called to you because you weren’t saying anything, your mouth was just hanging open. You snapped it shut abruptly and swallowed.

Jeff shook his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be the one to---” sure, Jeff loved a good gossip train, but he genuinely did not want to be the one to inadvertently break it to you that you had been fired without a warning. “I thought you quit, and you just didn’t want to tell me. I thought you already knew.”

Your mind went to Judith’s face at the art show on Saturday, how she had been throwing you dirty looks while simultaneously avoiding you. You were already fired then, and you just didn’t know it.

“I’m fine,” you breathed a forced laugh, hoping to calm everyone else in the room even though your stomach clenched with fear of the unknown. “Everything is fine, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Jeff and Katie exchanged a look, and then they both turned back to you, but your eyes were focused on the floor, the tip of your tongue hovering on your top lip, pensively. Outside, a blast of thunder boomed so hard, there was the equivalent of a light bulb flash in the front window, and a few of the neighborhood car alarms went off, bleating like ominous warnings in the distance.

-------

Later that night, long after Jeff left and Katie had gone to bed, you sat out in the dark of the living room, alone, playing back the messages at low volume while rain continued its lullaby on the windows.

There were four: two from Jeff, one from a credit card company, and...one from Eddie. You had already played it several times, but you played it again, this time with your head tilted, ear close to the speaker of the machine, and your eyes closed.

“...hey, it’s me,” his deep voice wavered a bit and then he cleared his throat. “...damn, you know I hate these things….but I got home and wanted to tell you…that I was thinkin’ about you.”

You’d been holding the stress of the past few hours at bay, letting the knowledge of your abrupt and back-stabbing dismissal tighten in your stomach, but then the sound of his voice broke you a little, and your chest hitched a few times, a single tear making its way down the bridge of your nose.

There was a long pause where it sounded like he was stretching. “...you can call me...or not…I hope you had a good day. Mine was shit,” you could hear him whistle a bit and click his tongue, wondering what to say while simultaneously feeling stupid for talking to a machine. “Let me know if we’re still on for Tuesday night…I’d really like to...to see you again. Okay, later.”

And then, he was gone. You played it several more times before you went to bed, angrily wiping tears off your cheeks. You couldn’t talk to him just yet; you were still too confused and blindsided to get into it with anyone. Plus, you were exhausted, and triggered by rising feelings of abandonment and worthlessness. After you dealt with whatever lame excuse of a conversation Judith had in store for you when you went into work the next day, maybe you’d just stop by the garage to see him for a bit. Maybe he’d be able to fuck the pain away.

----------

Part 7

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Taglist xoxo @unfocused81 @manicmagicmahem @dream-a-little-nightmare @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @falling-solar-system @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin @tlclick73 @truffleshuffle12 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer @hellv1ra @bexreadstoomuch @kurdtbean @seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @ireidsmut @lilpotatobean2 @leilaloufeyson02

[yoimix]

𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦

series: yoimix christmas event !! (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)

pairing: alhaitham x reader

synopsis: if christmas is the season of giving, then you’re giving up on both alhaitham’s ability to play nice, and your teetering love life.

prompt: decorating the tree + mutual pining + modern au

genre: fluff, e2l

wc: 2.8k

warnings: language, this is just 90% bickering 

a/n: holy shit i got derailed from the schedule but i finally decorated the tree with my family (and attempted fixing the busted christmas lights) so merry christmas, my sunshines!! hope you have a lovely time and a wonderful year ahead ❣️

Alhaitham is a man of many talents.

Choosing Christmas ornaments is not one of them. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s aesthetically impaired or if he genuinely never decorated a tree before—but shopping with him has been one hell of a nightmare. It’s a shame he’s been selected as the one to host this year’s Christmas party. Lucky for him, the good samaritan in you decided to help him out. (Even though he told you to not bother and ‘mind your own business’.)

Not because you’re regrettably in love with him.

This year, Fate decided to stitch you a get-along sweater from previous years’ antics because you’re stuck helping him. You couldn’t refuse when Nilou personally called you up to make sure the background for the Instagram posts aren’t downright grotesque (of course, she put it rather nicely but that’s what she meant). You’d take any excuse to see his handsome face and sketch a frown onto it.

“Why the fuck did you buy the yellow ones? They’re hideous!” You hold up the bells, colored a neon yellow with sparkly bits and pieces, and certainly not easy on the eyes. It’s borderline vomit-colored. You never know how he manages to pick the worst thing that has ever befallen your eyes every time.

“They were Buy 6 Get 6 free.” Alhaitham shrugs. How you wish you could knock the nonchalant look off his face. 

“You don’t go by deals when you’re decorating!” You groan, exasperated. “Now we have twelve of these ugly motherfuckers.”

“They were also the first I saw in that aisle,” he answers, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand why you want to spend hours and hours walking around the department store when we can get the job done in five minutes.”

“Well, you’re doing a very sloppy job, bonehead.”

“At least we could get to the decorating part thanks to my intervention.” He crosses his arms. “Otherwise, we’d still be at the mall.”

“God, you are such a—ugh! Fine, let’s get on with it.”

Alhaitham hums in agreement—of course, he never bothers to spare more words than necessary. That’s an invitation to you, though, to provoke him till you have his full attention. Call it childish but you enjoy the cracks in his solid stances.

Besides, it’s not like he cares.

What you have is not a crush anymore—it’s festered into something more vile, more self-serving, and more fun. It’s not like it was back in college, when you could quarrel to your hearts’ content over assignments and exam scores. You have adult jobs now and seeing each other is much more irregular. You never expected silence to be so full of disquiet. 

However, the Christmas reunion every year gets blood rushing to your arteries faster than you let on. There is no greater spectacle for your friends than you and Alhaitham trying to one-up each other over every little festive detail. Last year, it was a squabble over the Christmas music selection, and the year before it was about the photos not turning out quite so well (Refer: Alhaitham’s lack of aesthetic sense), and once it was even about who’s the better driver just because you decided to drive to midnight mass. Let’s not even get started on preparing Christmas dinner. At the very least, though, your friends get to enjoy extravagant gifts from your unspoken gift-giving competition. It’s not like you’ll let a man flash his dollars in your face when you earn just as much, if not more. 

This year, obviously, you need to coach him on style.

“Don’t hang that on the tree—oh Jesus, I must personally apologize to you for whatever this heathen is doing to the tree. I promise I had no part in it—”

“Will you quit babbling and try to get shit done?”

You scoff. “I’d rather swallow concrete than let you put that up. I’m trying to save all of our eyes.”

“I highly doubt you have the capability.”

Alhaitham may not be that interested in this but like hell he’d let you do better. That’s the sort of man he is.

“You narcissistic ass…” You mutter, standing on your tiptoes to hang the rest of the little gift boxes.

“My, aren’t you sweeping self-awareness under the rug today?”

“Go fuck yourself, Alhaitham.”

You can feel the smirk on his face even if you don’t look up at him. 

To be very honest, you’re quite comfortable with how it is. Any step further, and you’ll be falling and scraping your knees; any larger distance and you’ll be bored out of your mind.

“Not that.”

You pull Alhaitham back by his sweater, somehow uglier than yours when you’ve been winning ugly sweater competitions since age eight. Seriously, whatever Eldritch horror rendition of a llama is on his sweater freaks you out. Apparently his niece stitched it herself so you’ll cut him some slack. It’s rather sweet of him, even.

“If not these, then what?” Alhaitham sighs, holding back the little neon murderers of the Christmas spirit. “Do you want to leave half the tree plain?”

“Obviously not, idiot. I’ll fashion some dice into ornaments. Ooh, maybe I can wrap some fruits in aluminum foil and hang them. I’ll paint.”

“What a nuisance,” he mutters, eyelids lowered. You swear it’s your lips he’s staring at but that can’t be possible.

It must be a trick of the light. You look away, shifting your focus to the leftover fairy lights. 

“And- and I have ribbons,” you continue, pretending you never noticed. “There’s also some Kalpalata lotuses we could stick in the branches. That’d be pretty, right?”

“Mhm, yes. Very unique.”

Your eyebrows travel halfway to your hairline. Alhaitham furrows his brows at your stunned silence, unsure of what caused the reaction.

“That’s the first time you’ve complimented me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

Alhaitham’s serious response to your rivalry used to be your best validation. It’s not like you mind the occasional nice words though.

“Ooh, that makes me crave it more,” you tease, elbowing him as he purposely avoids your gaze.

“You get older but never wiser, do you?” He grumbles. 

“Then, O Great Sage, what is your wisdom tonight?”

Alhaitham turns to you sharply, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. You can’t even take a step back for fear of the tree toppling. It seems he’s effectively grounded you. The lack of distance, however, does not fall inside your comfort zone. Is it terrible that you can’t stop staring? Everything about him is so annoyingly attractive, from the high cheekbones to the perfectly carved lips. 

“I know you enjoy pushing my buttons,” he speaks by your ear, voice low. “And efficiency is not a key you’ve ever held. But let’s try, hm?”

You’re only cheeky out of habit. “Do you like watching me squirm? Pervert.”

Alhaitham breathes out, clearly accepting his defeat. “It’s five already. Everyone arrives in two hours.”

You shrug. “We’re pretty much done, aren’t we? Unless you want me put in an ice rink and a cocktail bar too, your highness.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You’re starting to miss the biting retorts. “Did you check the lights like I asked you to?”

“Oh shit.”

The Christmas lights are at least eight feet long and you have no idea why he has these. This man does not look like he feels any emotion from fairy lights. They’re braided every five light bulbs, and much to your and Alhaitham’s chagrin, they flicker and die midway. They are pretty though, emanatinga. warm golden glow. Very  

“God, I could be out partying right now,” you groan. “Why did I sign up for this?”

“That sounds like a plan. Please do me a favor and go partying.” Alhaitham takes the plug out of the socket, sighing. You press your lips into a thin line and snatch the plug, testing out the wiring. It’s just a little puzzle to solve. You’ve dealt with enough home electricals in your life. You can’t say the same for Mr Paper-for-brains.

“Despite your looks, you’re somehow the nerdiest loser I’ve ever met.” You huff, taking out each bulb and placing bits of aluminum foil to ensure the connections.

“What, because I don’t spend my Friday evenings inebriated?”

“Alcohol could do you some good, actually.”

He meets your retort with a sigh and you take it as a victory. You’re not some child throwing a tantrum that willful ignorance of your actions will get you to feel remorse. 

“It’s already sunset.” Alhaitham clicks his tongue. “The clock’s ticking and you still haven’t rid your habit of messing around with every little thing you see.”

“I’m not messing around! I just wanna solve it like a puzzle.”

“We could just buy new ones,” he states, a deadpan stare directed at you.

“...Or we could do that.” You turn away, breaking eye contact. “But seriously, don’t you find joy in solving some problems the hard way? Like, you wouldn’t set fire to a puzzle as an attempt to solve it.”

Alhaitham pauses, lips parted slightly but he can’t come up with a retort. He’s probably just amazed at your exceptionally stupid example. Even if that was your attempt to salvage your ego, you’re not entirely lying. You wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t have the tendency to take longer, more troublesome, and more scenic routes. Your original sin is never letting go.

“Cat got your tongue?” You offer him a sarcastic smile. “I know it’s not the same—”

“The way you think is quite fascinating,” he says quietly. “I don’t understand—I’m drawn to it.”

You swallow your own words. Out of all the possible sentences that could’ve come out of his mouth, that wasn’t the one you were expecting.

“You’re creative,” he hums, tapping his fingers against the couch headrest idly. “And you’re strange.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

For the first time this evening, Alhaitham laughs. It’s dry, but it’s a deep sound nonetheless. You can’t take your eyes off him.

“Somehow, I can never understand you,” he responds, leaning back against the wall. “Maybe I never will. You piss me off.”

You let go of the lights and move to sit on the couch arm, looking up at him with a wondrous smile.

“And yet, you always stare at my lips. Are you so eager for the profanities that leave them?”

“I do not.”

A subtle snarl twists his lips. 

“Oh? You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Do I now?”

His voice is raised, and he’s no longer leaning against the wall. This is getting exciting. You’d do anything to keep his eyes on you.

“Yes, and you can’t stand it,” you state your theory, even if you don’t believe in it. There are limits to the lengths you’ll go, but you haven’t reached there yet.

Alhaitham knits his brows, clearly soured with the exchange by now with his tense shoulders and deep frown. You quite like that look on him. Especially when he looks at you like that at this proximity. It’s an honor to rile up the Alhaitham, infamous throughout your academic life. You’re not so bad yourself.

You blow a raspberry at him. “Do it, coward. Kiss me.” 

“You know what? Fucking gladly.”

Before you can process it, a soft pair of lips push against yours, while his hands hold you by the waist to keep you in place. You give in for a flash of a second, before you pull away with a gasp. That was not good for your heart. However, you’re not the only one in dire conditions. 

Alhaitham is a sight to behold. His face is the color of ripe Henna berries—you’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the fact that he’s still pissed off at you. You reach out to press your palm against his cheek, the gesture softening his gaze ever so slightly.

This time, you tug him in, the kiss hesitant at first before the two of you ease into it. When your noses bump, you hold back a giggle and you can feel him smile against your lips. Oh, you’ve never seen all these hues and shades before. You pull away, and he nearly chases your lips before his ego yanks him back by the collar.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” You smirk.

“Not a chance.”

“Then look me in the eyes.”

Alhaitham meets your gaze with no protest whatsoever, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Even in defeat, he manages to look like the arrogant bastard he is.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart,” you tut.

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow.

“Tell me again, what you said to me at graduation.”

“What did I say?” You feign ignorance. At the time, it seemed like an appropriate response to him holding up his 4.0 over your 3.95. The goal was never just summa cum laude.

“That you hate me,” he answers, pulling you closer and closer till his mouth hovers above yours. “Tell me you hate me and call me a liar once more. I dare you.”

“I hate you,” you breathe against his lips, “I hate you so much.”

“Liar.” The smile against your lips is sweeter than holiday season. In fact, it might even be comparable to your rich chocolate cookies in ecstasy. 

You pull away with a teasing smile. “Have you been thinking I hate you for all these years?”

Alhaitham rolls his eyes to the side, completely ignoring your remark.

“You like me, don’t you?” Your smile grows wider, a sudden rush of schoolgirl infatuation filling you. 

“How in the ever loving fuck did you come to that conclusion?”

The sarcasm drips like honey off his voice. As if you couldn’t fall any further.

“Maybe you should kiss me again, so I can gather more evidence for a stronger conclusion. I wouldn’t go wrong with my hypothesis.” You lean in, grinning as brightly as the stars in the sky.

He hums, fighting back a smile. “Well, I do support the scientific method.” 

“Okay, so whatever feud you’re having, I’m on (name)’s side—oh.”

Kaveh freezes at the doorway. Surely, the one image he never would’ve conjured up in his head was that of you sitting on the floor between Alhaitham’s legs, his arms wrapped around your waist as you sort through your Christmas cards. And the two of you are laughing. Is that not cause for concern? 

“You know, when people are built like a coconut tree, they shouldn’t be standing in front of doors—oh.”

Cyno is your next victim, and his jaw drops less conspicuously than Kaveh’s does but it surprises him nonetheless. He swears on his gold star espeon card that he’d sooner expect Alhaitham to drop dead than admit his crush on you. No, even if he got over his emotional constipation, Cyno didn’t think you’d be at peace without pressing something to his throat. It truly is a Christmas miracle.

“Boys, can we not clog the doorway?” Dehya groans. “I get that this is the first time you knuckleheads have ever sensed emotion, but we saw this coming a mile away.”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Dehya,” Dunyarzad pokes Dehya’s side, causing the latter to giggle and wrap her arm around Dunyarzad’s waist. “Besides, you went into shock too when I suggested they might have a thing for each other.”

Dehya opens her mouth and closes it again. “You got me there.”

“Alright now, everyone,” Nilou stands on her tiptoes to peek over Kaveh and Dehya’s shoulders. “I set them up and I can’t see the fruit of my efforts.”

“You did what?!” You yell, getting pulled down by Alhaitham when you try to get up. Shooting him a glare, you get comfortable anyway.

“Oh, now you hear me.” 

You try your best to not look offended. Alhaitham tilts his head to the side, an eyebrow raised in curiosity towards the information Nilou just dropped. There’s no schemes without him.

“You just needed an excuse and I knew—”

“Nilou, please stop talking, I’ll buy you more shiba inu figurines.”

“No bribe can—”

“Broadway tickets.”

Nilou makes a gesture of zipping her lips. “My lips are sealed, your highness.”

Alhaitham sighs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You do know that I’m aware of your advances? You’re not very subtle.”

Your jaw drops, offended. “I thought I was being sexy and flirty and mysterious.”

“You were literally none of those. All you did was drive me up a wall.”

“But did that work?”

“Yes.”

Kaveh makes a gagging sound. “If you guys start making out during Nightmare before Christmas, I will vomit all over you.”

“Did you pay rent or are you going to dirty someone else’s living room?” Alhaitham asks.

Kaveh looks away, whistling a note. It elicits a wave of laughter, and like dominoes, Christmas eve is set into motion. The presents line the base of the tree, the lights have been dimmed till only the fairy lights shine, and Alhaitham has started the hallmark movie after much grumbling. 

Maybe the Christmas spirit has some meaning after all; and you could debate this with your boyfriend, but it is the most wonderful time of the year to celebrate anniversaries.

[bjarkanart]

Okay so! I've read A LOT of Imodna fanfics (no joke, I have 90 tabs worth of Imodna content open on my phone, don't ask me how I got to this point) and one of my favourite fics has Laudna as a florist and Imogen as a tattoo artist, the title of this fic is "I build my house up on this rock, baby (every day with you)" check it out, it's great.

Anyway, right as I was trying to fall asleep it made me think of an idea:

Imodna AU where Laudna's a baker and her shop would be called 'Form of Bread'...

I don't even know what Imogen would do, but maybe she'd be new in town and she'd live close to Laudna's bakery or something. Laudna would be kinda famous for baking delicious but horrifying and oddly cute looking cakes (cause kids like fun scary, right?), so Imogen would go from time to time, until she'd go pretty much everyday cause she'll start having a crush on her and Laudna would start baking extra cute things for Imogen but as the useless lesbian she is, Imogen doesn't get the hint that Laudna's interested, so you can guess how it goes, and the rest of Bell's Hells would be both entertained and annoyed and try to help.

Man, I had no idea where I was going with this 😂

Anyway, that's just a silly little idea I had and what brought this on was really just the idea of a bakery being called Form of Bread that was so funny to me and my fried and tired brain at the time.

Also, I'm not a writer so I wouldn't really know how to go about writing this fic, but in my head, the story is fun.

(I've been trying to write a fanfic for the last two years for another fanbase and I've been stuck at 16 pages, I suck at writing, art is definitely more my thing)

But yeah there you go! If you went through the whole thing, I don't know how you did it, but thanks a bunch and have a good one 😂

And if anyone finds this and decides to use this idea, please let me know I'd love to read it (if I haven't already found it, of course)

[queen-of-boops]

"Doctor Lucas"

Alright friends, it's time to talk about my biggest LITG pet peeve. It happens all the time, I'm reading a Lucas villa fic or scrolling through Tumblr and I see it: "doctor Lucas". My brain immediately checks out, alarm bells blaring.

I want to be clear here, I'm not policing headcannons or what you can or can't do in fic, especially AUs, the entire point of AUs is to mix things up like careers or backgrounds, etc.

What I am saying, is that canonically, Lucas is a physiotherapist.

For some reason, of all the physios we have (Summer and Jack), Lucas is the only one that's often referred to as a doctor. Maybe it's because he works in a hospital, or maybe somewhere along the line fanon warped him into something else. But as an acute care PT, nothing will make me click out of a post/canon compliant fic/etc faster than "doctor Lucas" or having him do something wildly out of scope.

For one thing, the US is the only country that requires a doctorate for physical therapy. That being said, I can count on one hand the number of times someone even knows I have a doctorate, and I have never been called Doctor outside of the academic setting.

So what does a hospital physio do?

Preserve mobility: let's be real, sick people don't want to move, but lying in bed all day makes you lose strength and range of motion fast

Transfers: how do you get to a chair now that you suddenly don't have left leg anymore? How can I make moving less painful for you following major abdominal surgery? How do you move when you have new precautions and can't bend your hip past 90 degrees?

Gait: Do you need a walker now? A cane? Do you have weight bearing restrictions and need to figure out how to walk with them? Is your gait pattern unsafe?

Stairs: Are there stairs at your house? How can I make them safer for you and the person who's going to be helping you? What techniques can I teach you to help decrease pain and increase safety?

Balance: 99% of people in the hospital are at an increased risk for falls, how can I decrease that? What can I do to improve your balance?

Discharge recs: Where is the patient going after the hospital? Are they safe to go home or do they need rehab? Do they need any equipment to be safe at home? 90% of the time, the rehab department is the one making those calls.

Communicate mobility needs to staff and family: Most of the time, I'm the first one getting someone up. Do they need 2 people to sit on the edge of the bed? Does their right knee buckle when they walk? This is important information that the people taking care of the patient needs to know for everyone's safety.

We see patients post stroke, waiting on transplants, post surgery, after getting the transplant, chronically ill, etc. Patients on vents, with lines and tubes and drains all over the place, even with open surgical sites... they're all appropriate for therapy.

What physiotherapists definitely don't do:

Perform surgery or scrub up or observe or do anything even near the OR.

Give or adjust medications. I'm expected to know what medications do and look out for associated symptoms, but the most I can do is message the doctor and tell them what I'm observing.

Work with a crashing patient. It happens, you're in the middle of a session and a patient codes. Call the code and start performing CPR. But as soon as anyone else arrives, the therapist is the least qualified and least important person in the room. And a therapist hears a code called, they're getting the hell out of the way to make space for the appropriate team to arrive.

Call time of death. Yes, patients die. Unfortunately, that's just how it goes. And yes, sometimes you come in to work only to learn that the patient you were working with yesterday passed away. But most of the time, if a patient is that close to dying, they're not appropriate for therapy. They're not dying in the therapist's arms or anything like that.

Use physical therapy as a stepping stone to become a doctor. There's not a ton of overlap tbh. I'm sure it has happened, but it's not like a PT degree is a degree that gets you into med school.

Listen, I LOVE my job. I get peed on, puked on, pooped on, etc. There are rude patients and emotional days and difficult conversations that need to be had, but at the end of the day I'm proud of being able to help people in need. You don't get into physical therapy if you don't love it. The pay isn't all that great and sometimes it's a very thankless job. Burn out rates are high, especially in the hospital setting. But those who stick it out are those who can't imagine doing anything else.

You have no idea how happy I was to see a character with my job who actually responds well to questions about it, so you can imagine how frustrating it is to constantly see my profession being overlooked or misinterpreted in the fandom.

Please, next time you go to respond to a post saying that you'd rather be stranded on a deserted island with Lucas because he's a doctor, or write a villa fic where Lucas talks about scrubbing in for surgery, keep this post in mind.

[juiceinpanties]

10 Things You Hate About Eddie Munson, pt. 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson/afab!reader

Rating(s): Chapter: PG; Fic: E

Tags: eventual smut, penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, subbie!Eddie, masturbation (m and f), fake dating, van sex, secret relationship, antagonistic relationship to friendship to lovers, casual sex, not-so-casual sex, phone sex, drunk reader

Summary: Your best friend, Nancy Wheeler, is absolutey dying to date Steve Harrington, but her parents have the weirdest rule: Nancy can't date until her friends (e.g., you) do. Nancy begs you to date someone, anyone, and eventually you agree. Meanwhile Steve offers to pay Eddie "the freak" Munson to ask you out. What could possibly go wrong??

Notes: This is, quite obviously, a 10 Things I Hate About You au, with a slight twist. Throw in some fake dating, a 90s setting, and here we are. Thanks to @tonybourdain​ for dragging me in and continuing to enable me.

Please note the tags. This chapter is rated PG, but future parts will be smutty!

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated and PLEASE reblog! Completely blank blogs that just like will be blocked because I'm gonna assume you're a bot. I've been here a long time.

In case you wanna read on Ao3 instead

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Eddie pulls up in front of your house at 5 till 8. Good start so far. You're reluctant to take his van, but you already wrestled with it well before he showed up, so once he gets there you're resigned to the idea.

He rings the bell and smiles when you answer. "Mom, Dad, my date's here. See you later!" you yell over your shoulder. You grab his arm and drag him down the walkway.

"Uh, don't I need to meet--?"

"Nope, let's get going."

He isn't sure whether he's relieved or annoyed, but eventually he settles on relieved. He opens the door for you, a nice gesture you appreciate, and offers you a hand to help you climb in. You accept it, but only because you're wearing a skirt.

Eddie, ever the gentleman, does not check out your ass as you climb in. You don't notice what he is or isn't checking out, but if you knew, you'd be grateful.

Eddie has the radio blasting. You immediately crank the knob, then reach into your bag and pull out a tape. Eddie does a double take. "You brought...tapes?"

You shrug. "Always prepared," you say as you push it into the slot and turn the volume up again.

"Oh no! No no NO!" he says and hits eject.

"What?! I love that song! It's a classic!"

"Tiffany cannot be played in my van. It's not allowed. No!"

You smirk and buckle your seatbelt. "You knew it was Tiffany within two bars. Wow."

He glares at you before putting the van into gear and pulling out. "I'm a musician," he grumbles. "What the hell else do you have in that bag?"

Condoms, breath mints, $20, and lip gloss, but you aren't going to tell him that. "Odds and ends. I like to be prepared, like I said."

"Hmm." Girls amaze him. Purses are amazing. He wants to carry a purse. Just to have all his shit, right there. Tapes and safety pins and...whatever. "Convenient," he says.

"Hm?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing." He glances over at you; you're holding a little mirror in your hand and carefully applying lip gloss. He licks his lips and his eyes flick back to the road. "Pretty color," he says. "Looks nice on you."

You snap the wand back into the tube and drop it in your bag. "You don't have to compliment me, Eddie. We aren't really dating."

"It was a for-real compliment for a fake date," he says. "Trust me, princess: I know the score."

You're both quiet the rest of the ride, each lost in your own thoughts. Each of you is wondering if this whole thing isn't some stupid, epic mistake, but for different reasons. Eddie because he has to go to a fucking prep/jock party, you because...well. Just because. You have your reasons.

(And they have NOTHING to do with the crush you nursed on Eddie all through middle and a big chunk of high school. You got over that ages ago. It's not a factor.)

He finds a place to park near Sharon's house and cuts the ignition. "You ready for this?" he says.

Your mouth quirks. You lean in and press a shiny pink kiss to his cheek. "Don't wipe it off," you tell him. "Now we're both ready." You hop out before he can react, and with a deep, fortifying breath, you make your way into the party with Eddie Munson at your side.

---

The party is kind of lame and people are staring at you and yeah okay maybe you had one or two too many drinks, but you're not drunk. You're not! Tiny bit tipsy at worst. Where the hell is Eddie? It's hot in here and you want cheese fries.

"Hey!" you say to some rando you don't even know. "Where's Eddie?"

"Who?"

You roll your eyes and push rando away. "Never mind." You wander the crowd looking for a familiar head of bushy brown hair, and finally you spot him smashed in the corner looking like your dog after she had puppies and wondered what the absolute HELL are these?!

"Hey!" you call. You stagger to him and poke him in the arm. "You look miserable. Cheese fries?"

"Are you calling me cheese fries?" he says with a confused frown.

"No, doofus, I'm asking if you wanna go get cheese fries. Get outta here? Leave? Flee the scene?"

"Oh fuck yeah! Hey, how much have you had to drink?"

You hold your fingers up a smidge apart, then spread your hands. "I dunno. Some guy kept handing me cups."

"Some guy? Who?" He looks around, scouting the crowd over your head, but no one stands out.

"Y'know Grover?"

"Grover? There's a Grover at our school? Or do you mean US President Grover Cleveland?"

That makes you giggle uncontrollably. Eddie grabs your arm as you start to tip, and you sag against him. "Noooo not president! I mean Grover the guy! Blue guy! Sesame guy!" You squint as you struggle to remember. "Sesame Street! Thas it." You hum a few bars. "Sunny day, chasin the clouds away--"

"Yeah, I know Grover from Sesame Street," he says before you can launch into the full song. "Come on, let's get you home. I think cheese fries can wait."

"You're Grover!" you cry.

"Huh?" He freezes in the act of securing an arm around your waist to stare down at you.

"Grover! From Sesame--"

"No, yeah, we've established which Grover. But why?"

You giggle and reach up to poke his nose. "Blue. Fuzzy. Monster grrrr! But sweet. Not scary. Monsters scary but not Grover! Also Fozzie Bear."

He frowns. "Babe, you are drunk and I am so fuckin lost."

"Bears are scary!" you say as he starts you toward the door. "But he wears a hat and a tie and tells shitty jokes. Silly ol bear. That’s Pooh! But you’re not chubby. Fozzie or Grover, that’s you."

"Okay, yeah. I'm a Muppet. Thank you." He rolls his eyes a little, but on the inside he feels sort of...warm? Hm.

"Yup! Soft and squishy boy." You poke his side, making him wince. "Not chubby, but kinda squishy. Squish cheeks, squish squish," you say as you poke his cheek. He bats your hand down. "Grover boy!"

"Please never ever tell anyone that. I'm scary as hell."

You giggle and make a face. "Oooo so scared."

"Okay, come on." Arm around your waist, your arm around his shoulders, he manages to drag you a few feet. You are not cooperating.

"Oooo let’s dance!" you say, pushing away from him.

"No, nope, I don’t dance."

"Daaaaance with me!!" You pull him with you into the crowd and start to grind against him. It's. Distracting, and for a moment he lets himself be distracted. Then he grabs your shoulders and gently pushes you back a few steps.

"You said you wanted cheese fries," he reminds you.

"Yes!" You poke his nose. "Squishy Grover find me cheese fries!"

He frowns down at you. "Seriously, though, how much? You are fucking wasted!"

"Dunno. Daaance!!"

He sighs and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you against him and lift you off your feet. "Dance this way, princess," he says, sternly.

You wiggle away from him, and as you spin you spot Nancy and Steve. "Nancy! Grove, it's Nancy!" You beeline toward her and Eddie follows with a long-suffering sigh.

Nancy's expression darkens as Eddie approaches, and he quails. You collapse against her and hug her tightly. "Nannnnncy! Look, I brought Grover!"

"What did you give her?!" Nancy hisses at him. "She's completely wasted!"

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Nothing, I swear! She found me like this. She said some guy kept giving her cups."

"Guy?" Steve says. "What guy?"

"She didn't know, or wouldn't tell me, but I think it was more than just beer."

Steve glowers. "Be back," he says and heads for the kitchen to bust some heads.

"Get her home!" Nancy says to him. She gently untangles you from around her and hands you over to Eddie. "Safely!"

"I'm not an asshole," he says, scowling. "That was my plan."

"Good," she says. "I'll call you later," she says to you. "Or maybe tomorrow."

Eddie lifts you again and half carries/half drags you out to his van. He loads you in and gets your belt buckled.

"You're so sweet, Grove," you murmur and squish his cheeks again. "Freshman me is dying."

He frowns and goes around to his side. "Why is freshman you dying?" he says as he starts the engine.

"Big crush!" you say. You wave your arms. "BIG crush! Oh man Eddie Munson, so cute and weird metal boy with a guitar!" You sigh and lean against the window. "Went away though."

"Ha." He clears his throat. You had a crush on him!? And it went away?! No, you're just drunk. Don't know what you're saying. "Yeah, that happens," he manages.

You lean forward and shove the tape back in. "I think we're alone now!" you sing at the top of your lungs. It's not even that part of the song. "You put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground alone now!"

He can't help but laugh. "Alright, Tiffany, you got it." He turns the volume down a bit. "Let's get you home. Nancy's little but she's kinda scary."

"Mhmm," you murmur. You're running out of steam and slumped back in the seat. "Scarier than you, Fozz."

He huffs. "I really fuckin hope you remember nothing when you wake up tomorrow. A goddamn Muppet."

You just grin at him and reach over to poke his cheek. "Squish." Shortly after that you pass out, and Eddie is incredibly glad he can sneak you into your house without your parents noticing. Otherwise you'd probably both be dead, and he'd never be drunkenly called a Muppet again.

[arwainian]

F@tT Fic Marathon: 1861-1880

i have described this week and next week of my semester as a sort of hell week, given that I have to be earnestly working on my final projects at the same time as I am still attending classes. but i dedicated some time to reading for this project again! there are now less than 100 fics between me and being caught up with the tag

the bells of the choir came in low and rumbling by elanoides - an Partizan AU of Sangfielle! I absolutely adore the notes at the end with everyone's callsigns and mechs, even if they didn't show up in the fic itself

moving shadows / moving light by waveridden - an Naked and Afraid AU (which if you dont know, Naked and Afraid if a USAmerican reality TV show in which people get but in the wilderness with Very Few items and challenged to survive) of Throndir and Ephrim which I... loved??

Same as Always by keelah_seyah - another take on how Syntyche came to make an deal with a heritrix!

words read: 67,210 (5,446,484 total)

works remaining: 90!!

next twenty:

[mintytealfox]

So, tumblr acted weird when I tried to send this the first time. Idk if it will do it again, but what I was trying to send was like a bit of an addition to anon's AU idea.

Where like, Norton is like canon Norton, a miner from the 19th to 20th century so he has to get used to the modern world. Catching up on current events and events he missed (The Great Depression, Covid and its chaos, just in gen the 60s to 90s). Alice having to get Norton books form the library or let him borrow some because if he gets near the TV, it may just die.

Can see Norton not understanding modern slang and Alice having to teach him it, only for him to abuse it and her go insane from it. But as a treat, Norton teaches her 19th to 20th century slang.

I can also see Norton not used to the loudness of the modern era. The first time Norton hears loud car alarms go off, or the sudden thumping of the upstairs apartment or anything, he freaks out. Maybe screaming when the fire alarm goes off, etc. Its not because he is a scaredy cat, no its because he is overwhelmed by all the sudden new noises from the modern world he cant process it all, acting akin to a scared animal. Also just imaging how pure hell it would be on like Fourth of July or New Years and all the fireworks going off and Norton freaking out, causing everything to go in the fritz in the apartment because dude is having a PSTD episode. Alice probably ends up investing in noise canceling everything jkfd. And maybe introducing Norton to more calmer noises and or music, like white noise machines, lofi music, those channels that are like meant to help you sleep.

OH NEW STUFF! I got the first one but I see you added new stuff to respond to 👀 The teaching him slang would be effin hilarious! We have some seriously mind boggling things now that would just blow his mind HAHA "ok boomer, is a funny one" "?" "I could say that to you, actually. Oh wait...you're far older than a boomer hold on" -looks up his generation- "Okayyyy.....Missionary? that sounds ridiculous wipe all of this from your memory" -- Then him saying his things like "she's a church bell" -after having to hide while a woman was visiting Alice and trying to see what is going on in her apartment and Alice not letting her in but the lady wouldn't stop talking- "a church bell?" "a woman who talks too damn much" ("church bell - This term refers to a woman who talks so much she reminds you of the incessant clanging of church bells." LOOOOL)

The strange noises for sure! Imagine those jumbo loud airplanes flying overhead maaaan 👀that would be so alarming! AND the fire alarms going off while he is in the apartment alone with no explanation to what is going on would be so not okay. The calm noises would be such a blessing oh my gosh ;;

THE MAGNETIC PTSD RESPONSES OH MY GOOOSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

[trashboatprince]

Alrighty, here is something for this Reverse Omens au, with Aziraphale, the ex-musician, and Crowley, the plant shop owner, meeting after nearly twenty years since the first time they did. 

On with the fic!

--

It really was one of those wandering thoughts, you know the kind, where you let your mind drift and suddenly you become focused on something when you hadn’t meant to.

For Aziraphale, it had been the idea of his home having some greenery in it. He had read that plants can make a place seem more homey, welcoming, they can even be a stress reducer! If you manage to keep them alive after a month, of course. 

He thought about it for a while, then decided, yes, it was the right thing to do. While he loved his little shop of old objects and books, such things weren’t always so bright and colorful as a flowering plant or something with large, lush leaves. His shop was dusty, mainly shades of brown and tan, and smelled like old paper and something... off.

But it was his home, and had been for about twelve years now. Or, at least, twelve years since he finally came back from the states since his retirement in the music industry.

The shop had been a family business, but Aziraphale hadn’t really wanted to be involved in it when he was younger, more wild, and clearly doing things he shouldn’t be do. He really lived up to his nickname of the ‘Demon Bastard’ back in his youth, a complete change from the man he was now, who looked like he should be living in the mountains and had never once in his life wore studs or practically deep throated a mic on stage.

Which he had when he was very drunk and made a big, BIG mistake.

Aziraphale chuckled at the memory when it came to him as he grabbed for his jacket. There was no evidence in the shop of the days when he was Azrafel, lead singer and guitarist of the band The Fallen Few, a punk-rock band from the late 90s that disbanded in 2003 when... well...

Any evidence of his former persona lived in his flat above the shop, locked behind a door. Not to be forgotten, but mainly to be kept away from nosy people who were looking for the mysterious Azrafel since the break up. Like hell Aziraphale wanted that part of his life to be found, he was over it.

Even if he sometimes found himself writing new songs, or playing his guitar to get a tune out of his head and onto the strings.

He grumbled, grabbed for the cap he liked to wear nowadays, covered in little pins that he knew some would appreciate, and others would be very angry about. He smirked as he looked at the mirror near the door of his shop, seeing his reflection. Golden waves covered with his rude/cool hat, his beard was clean, his eyes were still hazel and blue as always. He looked fine, he was good.

There was a small glint of light near his neck and he looked at the source in the mirror. The little golden cross he wore had slipped out from under his shirt and he touched it. He wasn’t religious, had given that up years ago when his parents had thrown a fit over his interest in more than just girls, same with his love for ‘devil music’. No, the cross belonged to someone else.

To a young fan, the one that got away.

The cross, which had been damaged by what had to be teeth marks, was smoother now, from Aziraphale unconsciously touching it. One day, he’ll return it to the owner, if he can find them again.

But that would have to wait, he wanted some succulents for his shop. He put it back under his shirt and made his way out the door. 

--

There was a shop in Mayfield, a little plant and flower shop that was highly recommended, according to the internet, and all the photos on the shop’s official twitter account (which was the only social media they had), looked really nice. 

But then again, Aziraphale knew next to nothing about plants, so he was just going by how pretty the pictures were. 

He shoved his phone into his pocket and stepped into shop, hearing both a bell above his head, and what sounded like an ABBA song playing from a speaker on a shelf behind the counter. The shop was full of so many plants and flowers, a lot of variety, and Aziraphale felt a little intimidated. Maybe he should have looked up plants online before coming in without much to go off of.

“I’ll be with you in just a tock~!” Came a rather cheerful voice from the open doorway beyond the counter. 

“Take your time.” Aziraphale replied, going to take a look at a display of what looked like jars full of water with... balls of moss in them? What? Is this what the kids were into these days? 

Waterloo came up on the speaker, and he could hear the employee singing along with the lyrics and he nearly laughed, the employee sounded... like he wasn’t even trying to carry a tune.

He heard some movement and he looked over, seeing someone in the ugliest, brightest pink skinny pants he had ever seen walk out into the shop, their torso and face were obscured by a massive bouquet inside a large vase that looked very expensive. They seemed to be struggling and Aziraphale moved quickly.

“Here, let me.” He said, putting his hands on the vase, gently taking it from the employee.

“Oh! T-thank you! Sorry, it’s a really heavy order!” The guy said as Aziraphale turned to place it on the counter, making sure it didn’t topple over. “I shouldn’t gossip, but, like, a really important... person, of a level of government, specifically asked for it for his wife so she wouldn’t be upset about something he did. But you didn’t hear that from me!”

Aziraphale smirked, about to ask for a hint about who it could be, but he felt his breath catch in his throat.

There, standing in those ugly pants and an even more eye-searing yellow top, was them. The fan from the concert.

The owner of the cross.

It’s been, fuck... nearly twenty... twenty-four years? Probably? But how could he ever forget that face? Those red locks, that were much longer now, braided over one shoulder. Fuck, the glasses they were wearing were even the same, red and blue lenses in a cheap, plastic purple frame. They were taller, older, but it was them, that fan that stole Azrafel’s heart.

“Thank you so much for helping me, I wouldn’ve dropped it, and that’d be a disaster. That’s real crystal!” They were saying as they approached the counter, leaning on their folded arms. Aziraphale then noticed a name tag, it read ‘OWNER OF EDEN’S WALL, CROWLEY’.

“Uhh, y-yeah, would’ve sucked.” Aziraphale found himself saying, wanting to slap himself, that sounded terrible.

They, Crowley, blinked at him, biting their lip, almost to hide a smile as they looked down. “Well, we’re both lucky that I had a little help from an angel, eh?”

“Angel?”

Crowley gestured at their head, and it took Aziraphale a moment to realize that they meant his hat, where he knew there was a rainbow pride pin that looked like angel wings. He snorted, smirking. “Oh, please, I’m anythin’ but an angel. Used to be a real devil back in my youth, a fiendish li’l punk. A real bastard, some would say.”

He wondered if Crowley would pick up on his hints, did they remember him too? Or had too much time passed?

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true!” Crowley replied. “You were quite helpful, I don’t think a devil would have done so.”

Ah, yeah, probably didn’t remember him. Fuck. Still though... Aziraphale wasn’t going to let this slip from his fingers, not like before. He grinned, wagging a finger. “Ah, but he would, if he knew he could get something out of it!”

Crowley, gosh, the beautiful angel, glanced up at him, looking confused. “You... want something from me?” He glanced towards the till, but Aziraphale shook his head. 

“No, not in that sense. Think you can help a black-thumbed guy with the brains of a cat with finding the right kind of succulents for his shop?”

Crowley smiled brightly at this and oh, even after so long, Aziraphale felt his heart leap like it did all those years ago when they were alone together backstage.

--

If you guys like this, I might write more. Sorry if it’s a bit wonky, but it’s a basic establishing one-shot, not like I’m writing a fully fleshed out fic.

Maybe.

[bvnnyface]

More 90s AU Fearne

My notes on her: (they’re in college methinks)

- No one knows too many solid facts about Fearne, but she came to the town’s high school junior year and has been hanging around ever since. It can be assumed she’s well travelled and quite possibly only at college for the parties. She must be pursuing some degree here, because she disappears randomly, but then again, Imogen has seen Fearne in veterinarian lectures, and Fearne is most definitely not on that roster. Fearne’s also a bartender at the nearest campus bar, no one’s quite sure how she hasn’t failed out.

- Fearne resorts to hypothetical violence often. “I’ll kill you.” “We should kill them” is just a thing she says. She says it very nonchalantly in a way that if you didnt know her you’d laugh it off. Its the deadpan eyebrow raise that follows that usually throws everyone off

- Fearne LOVES jazz. Jazz is chaos. Imogen has to live with Fearne and her jazz records which can be a challenge.

- Fearne has a cat named Little Mister, but just “Mister” will do.

- 90s? More like Dress liek it’s the 70s No Matter What!

[defjux]

100 of my favorite modern metal releases, from 2010 to now. i stuck to death, black, doom, post, blackgaze, stoner, sludge, etc for this just to make it easier but there’s a few i threw on here just because it felt like they fit. i did make another one of these lists recently for the more punk/hardcore influenced stuff though which you can find here if you’re interested. i’ve also listed all of the albums below. Chart with album names included Spotify Playlist

1. Ne Obliviscaris - Portal Of I 2. Panopticon - Autumn Eternal 3. Krallice - Years Past Matter 4. Blood Incantation - Hidden History Of The Human Race 5. Alcest - Écailles de lune 6. Agalloch - Marrow of the Spirit 7. Pallbearer - Sorrow and Extinction 8. Mgła - Exercises in futility 9. Imperial Triumphant - Vile Luxury 10. Deafheaven - New Bermuda 11. Vektor - Terminal Redux 12. NEPTUNIAN MAXIMALISM - Éons 13. Ulcerate - Stare Into Death And Be Still 14. Gorguts - Colored Sands 15. Thou - Summit 16. Deathspell Omega - Paracletus 17. YOB - Clearing the Path to Ascend 18. Oranssi Pazuzu - Värähtelijä 19. Kayo Dot - Hubardo 20. Altar of Plagues - Teethed Glory and Injury 21. Hell - Hell III 22. Oathbreaker - Rheia 23. Batushka - Litourgiya 24. Cult of Luna - Vertikal 25. Saor - Aura 26. Serpent Column - Kathodos 27. Mare Cognitum - Solar Paroxysm 28. Ethereal Shroud - Trisagion 29. Warforged - I: Voice 30. Rivers of Nihil - Monarchy 31. Zeal & Ardor - Devil Is Fine 32. White Ward - Futility Report 33. Leviathan - Scar Sighted 34. Bell Witch - Mirror Reaper 35. Thou - Magus 36. Sleep - The Sciences 37. Panopticon - Kentucky 38. The Ruins of Beverast - Exuvia 39. Amenra - Mass VI 40. Ne Obliviscaris - Citadel 41. Cult Of Luna & Julie Christmas - Mariner 42. Pallbearer - Foundations of Burden 43. Primitive Man - Caustic 44. Blood Incantation - Starspawn 45. growth - The Smothering Arms of Mercy 46. Yellow Eyes - Immersion Trench Reverie 47. Baroness - Purple 48. Imperial Triumphant - Alphaville 49. Misþyrming - Söngvar elds og óreiðu 50. Wake - Devouring Ruin 51. Ştiu Nu Ştiu - Fake End 52. Wolves in the Throne Room - Thrice Woven 53. SubRosa - More Constant Than The Gods 54. Tómarúm - Ash In Realms Of Stone Icons 55. Chelsea Wolfe - Hiss Spun 56. Cult of Fire - Ascetic Meditation Of Death 57. Elder - Dead Roots Stirring 58. Rosetta - A Determinism of Morality 59. Howls of Ebb - Cursus Impasse: The Pendlomic Vows 60. Portal - ION 61. Spectral Lore - III 62. Paysage d'Hiver - Im Wald 63. Alcest - Les voyages de l'Âme 64. Behemoth - The Satanist 65. Deafheaven - Sunbather 66. Messa - Close 67. Spectral Lore & Mare Cognitum - Wanderers: Astrology of the Nine 68. Cattle Decapitation - The Anthropocene Extinction 69. VRTRA - My Bones Hold A Stillness 70. Oranssi Pazuzu - Mestarin Kynsi 71. Ash Borer - Ash Borer 72. Ferriterium - Calvaire 73. The Sword - Warp Riders 74. Morbus Chron - Sweven 75. Gojira - L'Enfant Sauvage 76. Mare Cognitum - Luminiferous Aether 77. Darkspace - Dark Space III I 78. Bestia Arcana - Holókauston 79. Woods of Desolation - Torn Beyond Reason 80. Cormorant - Diaspora 81. Serpent Column - Mirror in Darkness 82. The Ocean - Pelagial 83. Meshuggah - Koloss 84. Krallice - Diotima 85. SPECTRAL WOUND - Infernal Decadence 86. EX EYE - Ex Eye 87. Akhlys - The Dreaming I 88. Tomb Mold - Planetary Clairvoyance 89. Artificial Brain - Infrared Horizon 90. Inter Arma - Paradise Gallows 91. Gris - À l'Âme Enflammée, l'Äme Constellée... 92. Tchornobog - Tchornobog 93. Murmuüre - Murmuüre 94. Sumac - Love In Shadow 95. Funereal Presence - Achatius 96. Flourishing - The Sum of All Fossils 97. papangu - Holoceno 98. Ophis - Spew Forth Odium 99. Blut aus Nord - Hallucinogen 100. Kaatayra - Só Quem Viu o Relâmpago à Sua Direita Sabe

[lustastarte]

✧♡rude | josuyasu♡✧

genre: fluff/a little angst

pretty, preppy boys like josuke never want anything to do with delinquents like okuyasu. the feeling is mutual.

published: 2023

no stands, college aus (the college is run more like a high school because i hate how actual college is run)

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Okuyasu shot up out of his chair as the class bell rung, signaling the end of second period. The sophomore jogged through the door, elbowing people in the hallway to get by. He only wanted to get to science.

Science was his favorite subject. It didn't even matter which branch, he adored it all. Despite everyone believing he was some delinquent whose goal was to barely pass, he loved messing with chemicals, studying different animals, and calculating the force between objects. But there is another reason he's drawn to that class. That science class is full of juniors, and he has, in the least complicated way possible, a slight crush on one of them. His name is Josuke, and he takes Okuyasu's breath away.

The sophomore walked into the classroom and almost fell when he saw the school's leading "pretty boy." He was sitting in the very back, combing through his beloved, shiny deep indigo hair, Italian dress shoes propped up on the desk adjacent to him. With a slightly condescending smirk on his face, he raked his soft eyes over Okuyasu. It felt as if he had been shocked, rings of electricity encasing him. Josuke's custom-designed school uniform jacket draped across the back of his chair, his yellow shirt clinging tightly to his broad shoulders and prominent chest.

"Oh my god," the black-eyed boy thought to himself. "He even wore his expensive earrings."

Okuyasu, in an embarrassed frenzy, scanned the room for a seat. The only one empty, however, was the one Josuke had his feet on. Taking deep breaths in with every other step, he attempted to look confident on his way over to the seat. The façade didn't last long.

"I- Um-," Okuyasu huffed, frustrated at his inability to hold it together. "Hey, would it be- can I sit here?"

"Mmm... sure. But only you," he muttered, dragging his gaze slowly over Okuyasu's cowering form. "Maybe I'll let you sit here tomorrow too, if you can fix your acting."

The younger man nodded quickly, organizing his supplies and sitting down. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, he saw right through me... It might be easier to transfer sch-"

"Why are you so jumpy? I won't bite," Josuke questioned with a sour tone and sickly sweet smile. It looked almost evil. "At least, you know, not if I don't have to. So just stay out of my way and we'll be fine, yeah?"

"Yeah! Uh, yeah, of course," Okuyasu agreed quickly, looking away as his tan cheeks turned blotchy red.

All of the surrounding chatter in the classroom died down when the teacher entered. Class went on, and Okuyasu stole looks at the man beside him. Unfortunately, he was horrible at being subtle, nearly turning his head a full 90 degrees each time.

"What the fuck is your problem?" 

"What?" Okuyasu was frightened by the sudden harsh whispering.

"Why the hell do you keep looking over here? Wasn't my only condition to not bother me?"

"I-," Okuyasu began.

"You what? Do you have a problem?"

"N-No! There's no problem!"

"Are you looking for one?"

Fear flashed in the younger man's eyes. "No! Of course not," he answered with a pleading tone.

"That's what I thought," Josuke said matter-of-factly, turning away from Okuyasu, who felt as though there was a black hole in his stomach, turning his limbs to strings.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Once again, Okuyasu shot out of his chair like a rocket. He tried gathering his binders and notebooks quickly, but he didn't gather them quickly enough. Josuke forcefully pushed past him, knocking him down. The sophomore landed on the floor, wincing as his ass and thighs went numb. However, once the room cleared, Josuke turned and backtracked, reluctantly picking him up off the ground without a word, swiftly leaving his behind in the room, smiling ever so slightly to himself.

"Shit, I just knocked him down, but at least I helped him up.... He's kind of cute, why haven't I ever talked to him before?" Maybe he should ask one of his friends who he is?

"Hey, Yukako," Josuke called as he strolled toward the group, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Who's that kid?"

"The one walking out of Dr. Brown's room?"

"Yeah, him. What's his name?"

"Keicho, I think. Wait, give me a second," she paused, spinning around to face her boyfriend. "Koichi, honey, who's that kid?"

Koichi whipped his head around, taking a good look at the sophomore walking down the hallway. "That's Okuyasu Nijimura. He's in our literature class, remember?"

"Oh yeah! The delinquent! He never turns in his papers," Yukako giggled behind a piece of her long, thick black hair, nose and eyes squinching as her bright white teeth revealed themselves.

"He's in my science class," Josuke mumbled, boring holes through Okuyasu's back.

"I think he's in my world history class," Rohan muttered, absentmindedly chewing on the end of a pen.

Josuke snorted. "How would you know, dickhead? You're always asleep in that class, said so yours-"

"Fuck off Josuke," the green-haired man spat. "Fucking asshole."

"Okuyasu. I like that. Josuke and Okuyasu... Why am I putting our names together?"

He snapped back to reality to find Yukako poking his shoulder with a good bit of force. "Josuke. Josuke! Helloooo, are you okay? You look confused."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just go to lunch."

Josuke was honestly questioning his own sanity. He couldn't want anything to do with that kid. Okuyasu was a delinquent, he was the school's most popular 'pretty boy' and had a reputation to hold up. Okuyasu was supposed to be the background character and Josuke the main character. He knew that if he fell for him, he'd have to keep it a secret.

"Josuke. Josukeeee. JOSUKE," Yukako yelled, getting louder as she smacked her friend's arm.

"What?" He snapped out of his daze and whipped his head around to the woman.

"You're staring again."

"No, I'm not. You just came to school fucking high again, dumbass," he retorted.

"It was one time!" she complained, Koichi snickering next to her.

"Well, I wasn't staring so you can go suck a big, fat dick," Josuke sang, shit-eating grin lighting up his face.

She sighed, flicking her eyes to the side and shaking her head. He knows he was staring, but god forbid the man let on that he has the ability to experience emotion. Whether he liked it or not, he couldn't control it. Josuke was drooling on the table like a dog faced with meat as he recalled Okuyasu's face.

He involuntarily swooned as Okuyasu laughed at one of his friend's jokes. The corners of his lips turned up as the other almost fell out of his seat, smacking the table. A woman with powder pink hair at the table was high fiving everyone. Okuyasu, smoothing out his navy blue uniform, helped himself back into the chair, lightly patting his carefully styled  hair to make sure it was still in place. He looked up, his large, circular eyes and deep black gaze accidentally catching Josuke's pacific blue stare, causing the older man to gasp and turn away.

"What?" Rohan asked, spooked by the sudden movement.

"Nothing, I-," Josuke breathed, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

"Is it that Okuyasu kid? For the fifth time in the last 30 minutes?"

"Whatever, just eat your food."

The artist licked his lips, glancing over toward Okuyasu. "I think he's hot."

"Fuck off Rohan, you have like twenty guys in your phone already."

"Well, you talk to him or I'll make my move. Your call," Rohan threatened, smirking and shrugging his shoulders.

Okuyasu began laughing as Reimi finished making a harsh joke about him being straight. She received a round of high-fives from the others as Okuyasu lost his balance. After hysterically laughing in the floor, he pulled himself back up into the seat, wiping tears from his eyes and fixing his hair. He naturally looks around the room, and on his way back to his starting point, something stopped him.

Josuke was staring straight at him, mouth slightly open and eyes glossed over. One hand was on the table, his head cocked slightly to the side as he rested his teeth on the side of his thumb. His round eyes were widened slightly, dark, well-kept eyebrows moving up and back down again. He closed his mouth and smiled. A millisecond later, the junior noticed he was looking. His shiny hair levitated as he snapped his neck to the side, pretending to have been looking around the room, but it was much too late. Okuyasu knew he was staring, but not what for.

"Why was he staring? Am I going to get hurt? What did I do?" He was suddenly confused and slightly terrified, which his friends caught on to quickly.

"Hey, what's wrong, Oku? You look like you're gonna be sick," Mikitaka asked from across the table, grabbing his hand.

"Josuke was just looking at me," he explained, his eyes widened, brows furrowed, and nose flared. "Not even like a quick look, he had to have been staring for a bit. And he has this smile on his face..."

"Ooh, your boyfriend is looking at you," Keicho teased. "Josuke and Okuyasu sitting in a tree-!"

"He is not my boyfriend, stupid. That will never, ever happen, not even in a million years," Okuyasu sighed, looking down and pressing his lips together. "He's too popular and pretty for me, plus he has a reputation as the school's resident fuckboy."

"Oh my god dude," Reimi whined. "I just watched the school's most sought-after guy drool over you for about 20 minutes before you caught him," she said, cocking his head matter-of-factly.

Okuyasu shook his head. "He's probably planning to murder me for taking the desk he had his feet on."

"No, bitch," she flicked his forehead, "Listen to me, just this one time. He was actually drooling, like a leaky faucet drooling."

"I just... don't think he has a thing for me. I'm pretty sure I saw him making out with Rohan the other day."

"Actually," Mikitaka interrupted, pointing his finger at the scared sophomore, "that's how he plays around with everyone in that group. I've heard Rohan has his eyes on someone, but I can't figure out who."

"But he flirts with everyone," Reimi added, throwing her hands up. "He was flirting with me the other day."

"I don't even know who's who," Okuyasu mumbled.

"I got you" Keicho lightly smacked his brother's arm. "You see the one with the purple shirt, green vest, and green hair? That's Rohan."

Okuyasu nodded, humming, and Keicho continued. "The girl with the blue uniform and really long black hair? That's Yukako. You know Josuke already, of course. Grey hair, green uniform? That's Koichi."

Okuyasu nodded again, looking back at his friends. "And what's the probability that any of them would try to hurt me?"

"None! How many times do I have to tell you? Shut up and eat," Reimi commanded.

Okuyasu only wanted to leave the school and go home, not be detoured. He wanted to escape that concrete prison and rush to the safety of his home to ensure that no one would be attacking him. It didn't matter what his friends said, Josuke and his friends were dangerous. He had heard especially nasty things about that Yukako girl.

Josuke, however, had a different plan for him. As the sophomore stepped out of the school building, the confident, stylish man beckoned him over with his finger. Okuyasu, once again terrified, complied and walked toward him. There was absolutely no point in acting. Even if he could hide the deer-in-headlights stare, his sudden lack of color, and full-body tremors, Josuke would see right through it.

"Hey, calm down bro, I promise I'm not here to hurt you... Unless you give me a reason in the future," the junior said gently, poking his elbow into Okuyasu's side with a chuff of laughter. "I just want to apologize for knocking you down earlier. I didn't mean to."

"I-It's okay," Okuyasu stuttered, shocked that Josuke, the Josuke, apologized to him, much less waited for him in the parking lot. "Thank you for helping me up."

To be honest, Okuyasu had no idea how he managed to even speak. Josuke looked like a piece of art to him. Like a statue that had been carved out of the finest marble, and then painted to absolute perfection. Not even Venus de Milo could compare to Josuke in his eyes. Okuyasu saw the older boy open his mouth to speak, and he hyper-focused on the way the older man's lips wrapped around each syllable. He had no idea what he said, the blood pumping in his veins sounded like crashing waves in his ear, harmonizing with the melodic lilt in Josuke's voice.

Nonetheless, he nodded with a soft, "Yeah."

"Then let's go," the junior said, offering his hand to aid Okuyasu in getting on the back of his motorcycle.

"Wait, what?"

"I asked if you were hungry. You said yes, so now we're going to eat somewhere."

"What? Why?"

"I want to get to know you better, and I'm apologizing for knocking you down," Josuke explained without skipping a beat. Okuyasu gave him a funny look, one that he couldn't quite describe, and he continued. "What, I can't be a normal guy for once?"

Okuyasu face flowered with a warm rose tint at the mere sight of the junior's sly smirk. "I just didn't think you were... that kind of person, no offence," he admitted as the older man helped him onto the bike. "Or that you would want to hang out with someone like me."

Josuke rolled his eyes and jumped onto the bike, plopping down right in front of Okuyasu and revving the engine.

"Shut up and hold tight, we're going for a ride." And with another devilishly handsome smirk at the younger, the motorcyclist tore out of the school parking lot, leaving behind exhaust fumes and Okuyasu's entire soul.

He never expected to have a mental breakdown on the back of a motorcycle. Truth be told, he never expected to get on the back of a motorcycle in the first place. Okuyasu doesn't really put his trust into personal vehicles. Yet here he is, close to tears and clutching onto Josuke so tightly he would find fingernail indentions in his chest and stomach when he goes to shower that night.

"Slow down!" Okuyasu cried, trying his best to be heard over the roaring engine.

The older let out a deep belly laugh. "We're not even going that fast! It's only 60," he said, barely audible although yelling.

" Only 60?!" Okuyasu screamed, pulling Josuke closer. The vehicle slowed as they reached the entrance of a quaint diner furnished with decor from the 80s. Okuyasu had his face buried in the older boy's back, arms in a death lock around his waist, and legs trembling on either side of Josuke's hips.

The junior parked the bike and offered his hand to help Okuyasu off the back.

"Holy fuck, I am never, ever, ever getting on a motorcycle with you again."

"Oh, but you will. How do you think you're gonna get home, hotshot?"

Well, fuck. Maybe he didn't think this through.

"I-"

"You won't. I'm gonna take you home, end of story," Josuke interrupted with a determined (and pleased) air about him. "Now get your ass into the diner."

Once they had ordered, Okuyasu sat down in front of the other at a booth, back to the door.

"You really don't have to-"

"But I want to," the junior said. "So, you're a sophomore, right?"

"Yeah, I am," Okuyasu was fidgeting with his napkin and sweating bullets.

"I've gotten word that you're some delinquent, but you must be a genius. You have an A in science, right?"

The obsidian-haired boy focused his field of vision on an old poster on the wall. "I am... not a genius, by any means, but yes, I have a good grade in science."

The waiter swung by their table, dropping their food off quickly.

"You," Josuke began as he shoved a large bite of pomegranate pancakes in his mouth, "are a genius."

Okuyasu shook his head and chuckled. "You," he said, taking a bite of his burger in attempt to playfully mock Josuke, "looked stupid doing that."

The junior couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Maybe I did," he said with a cocky tone. "Anyway, tell me about yourself."

The sophomore scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting back and forth against the vinyl print on the tables. "My fucking crush is asking me about myself," he thought.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything you deem fit to tell me," Josuke quietly replied. The corners of his lips were upturned, and all his attention was on the man in front of him.

Okuyasu sighed as the realization set in that Josuke was interested in him, and especially in what he had to say. For the first time, he returned the gaze, no matter how nervous he was. "Well, I like reading, but I get made fun of for it sometimes. All of my friends do."

Josuke tensed his jaw, the muscle visibly rippling up his jawline. "Who?"

"Akira and his fucking goons."

"That'll stop soon," the older said, voice dripping with something Okuyasu couldn't decipher. Malice?

"But they've been doing it for years-"

"That'll stop soon. That's not a threat, that's a promise," Josuke repeated, the malice now obvious in his voice.

Okuyasu didn't understand. "Why do you want to help me? This is the first day we've ever spoken to one another."

"Listen, I think you're cool. My friends think you're nice. Honestly, we were talking at lunch and we'd love to meet your friends. You can come over to our table whenever you want to. Actually, we want you to every day, or at the very least twice a week. Akira and his dumbass worshippers bother you at lunch too, don't they?"

"And in every class," Okuyasu admitted, studying the linoleum floor tiles.

"Yeah, that settles it. You're coming to our table."

"But I-"

"No buts. I expect to see you and your friends at my table tomorrow and for the rest of the year," Josuke said, softly smiling.

Okuyasu watched as his crush smiled at him, as his eyes narrowed, his nose scrunched, and his teeth shined between his perfect lips. He could have fainted at the sight. Hell, he could have died happy right there. Josuke was so beautiful to him, no wonder everyone wants to get their hands on him. His shiny, perfectly gelled indigo hair curving up and away from his clear, shimmery skin, his vibrant, tropical blue eyes narrowed in happiness, his perfect nose wrinkled cutely, his lips stretched slightly over his teeth.

"Okuyasu? Are you okay? I'm sorry if I freaked you out, I just don't want you to get hurt. You don't have to sit-"

"Yeah, I'm okay, I just got distracted. I'll be there, I promise."

"Good, I was worried. Hey, can I ask you something?"

Okuyasu took a deep breath and nodded, preparing himself for the worst.

"I noticed you staring at me a lot in class today. Wh-"

"Oh!" The younger man checked his watch frantically. "Looks like my mom will be home at any minute, I better beat her there."

And even though it was the last thing Josuke wanted to do right then, he took Okuyasu home. The ride back was less stressful for Okuyasu, and Josuke, although not used to others riding with him, quite enjoyed the feeling of the sophomore's chest against his back. They rode in silence, and once they arrived, Josuke once again offered his hand to help the other off the motorcycle. The only words he could muster were, "See ya," with a clap against Okuyasu's back.

Okuyasu turned to jelly the second his door shut. This was going to be a long, long semester, but he still didn't mind because at the very least, he would be friends with Josuke.

The next day, as Okuyasu rushed out of his first class and into his second like usual, he spotted Josuke. His buff arm, covered with his silky, royal purple uniform jacket, laid across the back of an empty seat and a smirk lounged on his face, the junior nodded his head toward the chair when the sophomore walked in. Lifting his arm only when Okuyasu had sat down, Josuke turned toward him.

"You still sitting with us at lunch?"

"Yeah."

"Your friends too?" Okuyasu nodded.

"Good," Josuke said, barely audible over the old air system, just before their science teacher entered the room. All throughout the class period, Okuyasu did what he knew best; taking long, hard looks at Josuke while thoughts of them together ran through his head like a movie. Each second, another clip of their life appeared, one of them decorating a college dorm together, one of them buying a house, one of them dancing around the warmly-lit den, one of them finally seeing sleep after taking care of their kid, one of them cooking together in the kitchen, another one of them dancing. He adored every second spent looking at Josuke with his own eyes, simply because they're his, and that means the junior is locked into Okuyasu's brain now. Meanwhile, back in reality, they were given a worksheet and permission to work with partners, but because the junior is stubborn, he refused to work with anyone. No, he absolutely did not get what they were doing, he doesn't understand a single word on the page, and Okuyasu could tell. Halfway through the period, the junior felt someone tap his shoulder.

"Josuke, do you want to be partners with-?"

"No," the struggling student barked back angrily, irritated at himself for not understanding. He was glad Okuyasu wanted to help, and knew that he would be able to come to him for any question, even minor, but he was so angry at himself that his voice came out a threatening snarl. "What about after your classes? I can come to your house if I need to. I have nothing important to do and this topic is one that you really have to know," Okuyasu attempted to whisper, hoping to calm the older boy down. He assumed (for the most part) that he meant no harm toward him. Josuke flicked his blue eyes up at him, breathing a quick, "Whatever," and continuing to make no progress on the worksheet.

Okuyasu had finished with the assignment a few minutes beforehand. Although he was happy to help, it made him sad that Josuke seemed mad at him. What could he have done?

After class, Josuke casually walked out behind Okuyasu instead of with him. Their last two classes came and went, and the two boys shuffled toward the lunchroom, 5 meters from each other, the distance getting larger and larger because Okuyasu's legs were determined to find a way out of the tension created that morning. He should've waited and endured the slight awkwardness to walk in behind Josuke. He should have done anything but speed up. The fastest moving object on the field will always draw the attention of the predators. The second he stepped into the cafeteria, Akira was hovering over him.

"Hey faggot," the bully breathed down the back of the sophomore's neck. The anger began to bubble in his chest, but Okuyasu chose to say nothing and continued walking toward the table where his friends sat with Josuke and his.

"What, are you deaf too?" Against his better judgement, Okuyasu once again said nothing and moved faster. He had the right idea, but wrong choice. Akira forcefully grabbed his bookbag, yanking him backward. Okuyasu was trembling, but he wasn't sure if he was scared or infuriated. His eyes shut themselves automatically, and he braced himself for whatever the asshole planned to do with him. He heard the cackles and jeers from Akira's friends, and then it all stopped. Absolute silence. Okuyasu opened one eye, and Akira was sulking back to his table with his goons. 

"What happened? Why did they just leave?" Okuyasu's head was spinning, until he spotted Josuke striding toward him.

"Come on, let's go eat," the junior said, walking past Okuyasu with a grimace. With no complaints, the sophomore made his way to the table where his friends sat talking to Josuke's. The funny thing about it, to him at least, was that they weren't getting made fun of for once. It was strange to him that the misfits were so welcomed by their school's version of the Plastics.

"Okuyasu!"

"H-Hey guys," he smiled sheepishly, giving them a half-hearted wave.

"Don't be nervous," Josuke whispered into Okuyasu's ear before turning to everyone, "They don't bite either, but Rohan might hit on you. He's a bit of a man-whore."

Okuyasu snickered to himself, sitting down between Rohan and Reimi.

Koichi laughed. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost! We're not going to hurt you."

"We're just not really used to being surrounded by popular kids who actually want to be friends with us, you know," Keicho explained.

"Better get used to it then," Josuke winked. "You guys roll with us now. And we mean it, even if you have to use us as scapegoats sometimes."

The entire lunch period passed without taunting from anyone, something that hasn't happened in years, and the group of misfits had never been more thankful. Words could not describe how grateful they were for the judgement-free haven they now had, and as it turns out, the popular kids are closer to the new additions than one would expect. Okuyasu beamed as Josuke talked about his fashion obsessions, raving about his favorite designers, and as Rohan told them all about his manga, letting them read parts of it before release. Each day, they sat there with the golden group, and each day, the bullies avoided them like the plague.

However, Josuke and his friends couldn't protect Okuyasu and his all the time. Different schedules, different buildings, and different paths were the group's worst enemy. Akira and his gang found them all by themselves a few weeks later during the last period of the day. The gym locker room had just emptied as other students left the school. It was much too easy. With his friends all pinned to the wall, Akira had no problem keeping Okuyasu on the floor, kicking him repeatedly. Even though the fury filled his chest, Okuyasu couldn't bring himself to get up and fight. Just as the senior lifted his foot to break Okuyasu's nose, the room seemed to fill with smoke. Keicho, Reimi, and Mikitaka were being forced to watch as Akira beat the life out of Okuyasu, and they would be forced to watch him stomp his face into the ground. Each time they tried to cry out, they were hit by one of Akira's goons. Okuyasu felt hopeless as he prepared himself for the final blow.

But the blow never came. Instead there was an indecipherable yell, the sound of skin against skin, and the sick crack of a bone breaking echoing throughout the dinghy locker room. Okuyasu's eyes shot open, taking in the sight of Akira on the floor and Josuke hovering over him. In one swift motion, Josuke pulled him up by his collar and pressed his forehead to the now trembling bully's.

"I thought I told you to leave them alone," Josuke snarled, a look on his face that Okuyasu hoped to never see again. "I did, didn't I?"

Silence, followed by another skin-against-skin slap and a crunch, this one much louder than the last. Akira yelped, not unlike a small animal being wounded.

"I asked you a question, dickhead. The best choice for you is to answer it."

"Yeah, but they're all faggots. They're disgusting, we don't need people like them in our school. You know you're embarrassing yourself for sticking up for scum like that."

"I don't give a fuck what you think they are. Your opinion only matters to your mindless zombie fucks. There's no reward for fucking you up. None. It's just necessary. You love to hurt people, but can't take it from others. Two punches and you're already cowering? What a fucking joke. If I see you near them again, I will not hesitate to put you in the hospital. Do you understand that?" Josuke threatened through his teeth, mere millimeters between them.

Akira nodded, fearing for his life at this point. The junior threw him back to the ground, a few feet from where he stood, walking out with the others in front of him.

Once outside the locker room, Josuke made sure the others were okay as they joined up with Rohan, Yukako, and Koichi. Josuke volunteered to clean Okuyasu up, as none of the others wanted to come in contact with blood.

"Hey man, are you guys okay? How long had you been in there before I showed up?"

Okuyasu pulled his hand away from his nose to check if it were still bleeding, and a crimson waterfall followed. "I really don't know," he sighed, pain and blood loss onset dizziness taking him over. 

"Sit, I'll be back," Josuke said, running to grab wet paper towels. He returned with two handfuls, plopping himself down next to Okuyasu and beginning the cleanup process. Okuyasu tried to help, but Josuke slapped his hand away as he cleaned his face and clothes with a tender touch. Okuyasu began giggling, morphing into laughter. He couldn't stop himself, the situation was just so strange.

"What?"

"It's just that you-," he paused to laugh a little more, "you were just the scariest motherfucker alive and now you're cleaning me up like a mom!"

Josuke grinned, rolling his eyes. "Shut the fuck up and come on, Let’s get you home," he teased, helping Okuyasu out of the floor. By the time they had finished, the others had already left for home, so Josuke offered to take Okuyasu.

“Well I could go home, but I noticed you were struggling in science… Mind if I help you?”

“I’ve got it, I just… didn’t wanna do it at school, that’s all,” Josuke sighed, the pitch of his voice raising with each word.

“Josuke. Just let me help you dude,” Okuyasu grabbed his arm. “I know what you’re thinking, but if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t offer.”

“Fine, if it’ll get you to shut up about it. Let’s go.”

Josuke unlocked his front door, letting Okuyasu in first.

"Sorry about the mess, I forgot to clean it up like Mom asked me to… Uhh, we can go back to my room if you'd like."

"Whatever is best for you," Okuyasu assured him, flashing a soft smile.

The indigo-haired man awkwardly ushered the younger boy into his room and shut the door. 

“We can sit on the bed or the floor together, or one of us can sit at the desk and the other on the bed. Your pick.”

Okuyasu scanned the room, analyzing his options. “If he’s at the desk he’ll have somewhere to work. Floor together could be nice, but it might hurt after a bit… The bed… Us together on his bed? Would I be able to-?”

“Well? Which one? We have work to do,” Josuke said with a playful grin.

“We can sit on your bed, if that’s okay of course,” Okuyasu responded quietly.

“That’s perfect,” he sort of threw himself on his bed, straightened up, and patted the comforter. “Come on, I won’t bite.”

Okuyasu sat down next to the junior. He felt himself sink into the mattress because every single muscle in his body was rock solid. The two sat in a tense silence fog for what felt like an hour until the host spoke up.

"So... Science, yeah?"

"Yeah," the younger agreed, snapping out of his anxious haze. "Let's um... Get started."

The two spent hours working through Josuke’s questions, and Okuyasu kept his eyes on the other for the majority of the study session. He wasn’t even sure he was giving him the right answers, Josuke was just so easy to stare at.

“I wish I could kiss him... His lips look so soft. His nose is so cute, his eyes are so beaut-”

"Hey Okuyasu, quit zoning out and help me. I really don't wanna fail this class."

"S-Sorry, there’s a lot going on right now," he explained, and the two continued their work.

The sophomore's head spun as Josuke took him home. Just how much did he zone out? Still, with his chest against Josuke’s back, he couldn’t manage to construct a single thought. The ride was over sooner than he’d like.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Bye, Okuyasu."

"Goodbye, Josuke."

What was he going to do? Maybe he can get through the year without cracking, but the odds seem less and less in his favor with each passing second.

Josuke let Okuyasu into his house again, placing his backpack down in his room.

"Okuyasu Nijimura. Science. Let’s go."

"Yeah, yeah, yep, sorry," he rambled, snapping out of his obvious staring and frantically opening his binder.

"It's okay, I know you zone out sometimes, don't apologize," Josuke comforted him, blue eyes scanning his face from top to bottom, then making their way back up to his own eyes..

“He's being a lot nicer... That's strange. And what was that look? Am I going crazy??”

The black-eyed boy half-smiled as he began re-teaching the junior what they had learned that day.

The next day came and went, and once again, Okuyasu was walking into Josuke’s house. Confidently, this time. They sat and went over the same chapter in their textbook for an hour, and Okuyasu asked Josuke to do a problem related to the chapter. He attempted it for a full minute, before he got frustrated. He threw his binder on the floor and placed his face into his hands.

"I don't fucking get it! Why can't I do a simple problem?"

"Hey, Josuke, it’s oka-"

"No! No, it isn't okay! If I can't get my shit together, I'm gonna fail! But of course, you wouldn't know how that feels," the junior snarled.

"I understand, but you-"

"Listen, if all you're going to do is tell me to calm down and stare at me, you can leave! I don't want you if you can't do anything but stand there and stare like you have for the past two FUCKING DAYS!"

"Josuke," Okuyasu growled, grabbing his collar and pulling him forward to get in his face. "I’m not here to tell you to calm down. If you would fucking listen to me, I'm trying to tell you that I won’t let you fail. Do you understand that? I know exactly how it feels to fail. I fail tests all the time. I am just here to help you."

Josuke took a long, heavy breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap like that. I'm just.... so overwhelmed and I-"

"It’s okay, Josuke. Don’t apologize. We can take a break if you’d like."

"Yeah, I wanna take a break."

They moved to the kitchen and grabbed a soda as they gave their brains time off.

"I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you’ve been getting better."

"I have?"

"Yeah! You haven’t noticed?"

"No, not really..."

"Well, you have," Okuyasu told the older boy. Josuke only smiled and patted Okuyasu on the back, glad that he thought he had improved.

Yet another school day comes to an end, and Okuyasu was walking into Josuke’s house for their antepenultimate tutoring session. For some reason, it makes his heart hurt. The sophomore had noticed that the junior was being nicer toward him each day, and he couldn't figure out why. Maybe it’s because he’s helping his grades?

The session went by quickly, as Josuke barreled through all the problems Okuyasu threw at him. At this point, Okuyasu could safely say that he and Josuke were friends, and might even dare to say that the older man actually liked having him around. He was just glad to be spending time with him, even if it wasn't the way he wanted it to be.

It was another normally planned day, and Okuyasu was in Josuke’s living room, helping him with his science homework. Neither of them could focus, Okuyasu thinking about the junior, and Josuke thinking of absolutely nothing.

"Hey, Josuke?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"If it’s science, fuck no. If not, sure," the junior said, staring at Okuyasu intently.

"Why have you started being so nice to me? You’ve been really nice lately, it’s kinda throwing me off."

"I- Uh..."

"Josuke? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"It's okay, I'll tell you, just don't laugh."

"I won’t laugh. Pinky promise," he grinned, sticking his pinky out.

The junior took a large, shaky breath and reached for Okuyasu’s outstretched pinky, but instead of interlocking and letting go, he held onto it. His eyes locked onto their hands as he contemplated telling the other. Finally, he looked up, and straight into Okuyasu’s soul, before flicking his eyes back onto their hands.

"The truth is that I've sort of developed a crush on you. You're so kind and smart and funny and I couldn't help falling for you,” he began as he played with Okuyasu’s fingers absentmindedly, staring at the same freckle on his skin the entire time.

“You're beautiful, by far the most handsome man I've ever seen. I know I act like you get on my nerves sometimes, but to be honest, I like being with you because you get me. If I talked to anyone else about the things I talk to you about, they'd think I was crazy or an awful person. But not you. You just laugh, and make me feel less alone. We get each other, I like to think. I hope you know how happy that makes me. I really like you, Okuyasu. I like you a whole fucking lot. You make me feel like I could do anything. I just... wanted you to know that." Josuke sat silently, waiting to get rejected. He waited and waited, but nothing ever came. So he started rambling.

“I still want to be friends even if you don’t feel the same, I honestly don’t expect you to, I don’t know why I said that, please forget about that-”

A hundred thoughts ran through Okuyasu’s head at the same time, before one pushed through and sat at the front. “Kiss him.”

He hesitated, staring at the rambling man. Suddenly, he grabbed Josuke’s face and swiftly, but gently, placed his lips onto the latter's in an attempt to show him how he feels. The junior's eyes widened before he realized what happened, kissing back with ease. His hand slipped into Okuyasu’s black and grey hair, and the sophomore's hand rested on Josuke’s face, pulling him closer. Okuyasu pulled back some time later, pressing his forehead against Josuke’s and smiling.

"Don't do that."

"Don’t do what?"

"Don't smile like that," Josuke muttered. "You're making my heart hurt, and if someone else sees you smiling like that..."

Okuyasu kissed his nose. "They’ll what?"

"They might snatch you up and make you theirs before I can."

“Impossible."

"No it isn't," Josuke contradicted, slightly shaking his head.

"Now that I know you feel the same as I do, how can someone else make me theirs if I’m already yours?"

Josuke went silent, his face burning and a smile pushing its way through his usual frown.

"Oku?"

"Y-Yeah?" The black-haired boy was stammering at the sudden nickname. He loved how it rolled off the other’s tongue.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, but do you maybe wanna... Wanna be my boyfriend?"

"Mmh, I don't know, Suke," the sophomore said, startling him with his own new nickname. "Do you maybe wanna be my boyfriend?"

"Only if you wanna be mine," the junior said with a laugh.

"There is nothing that I want more than to be yours."

Josuke couldn't help but giggle. He felt like a teenage girl getting complimented, but he just really had something for Okuyasu. He had never thought he would feel this way about someone. And oh, was he glad that Okuyasu felt the same. He wrapped his arms around the younger, hugging him as if the world was about to collapse. As they embraced, Josuke realized never thought he'd find a guy like Okuyasu, especially not one that liked him for who he was instead of simply his looks. Okuyasu had seen him happy, frustrated, and royally pissed off. But here he is, with the boyfriend of his dreams, and he couldn't be happier.

Tomorrow is test day, and both men were extremely nervous, even after having finished their studying for the day.

"So, how do you feel about the test?"

"I think I'm gonna do well," the junior sighed.

"We could watch a movie in celebration," Okuyasu suggested, getting a nod of approval from the older boy.

Josuke tossed the remote to Okuyasu and sank back into the couch, watching his lover from afar. Once the younger had picked something, he sat back down and, like clockwork, the junior fell into his arms. It was almost comical how Josuke could punch a kid and break his nose with no remorse, but had to be cuddled by his boyfriend. Okuyasu placed his arms securely around Josuke’s torso, sighing contentedly. He brought his head down, kissing him. His black bangs hung down, tickling the junior's neck. His nose grazed his lover's chin, his lips sat on top of the junior's, curved into a smile. He had fallen hard, so very hard, for the boy lying on his chest. For the boy who’s held above everyone else by the school, save for him. For the boy who acts big and bad, but just wants love. For the boy named Josuke.

Reluctantly pulling his lips off his lover's, Okuyasu sat up. He stared at Josuke for a second as the older shifted to the other end of the couch. He followed, flashing a love-drunk grin, and crawled into the space between the junior and the couch, pulling the older boy as close to him as possible. Once again, he connected their lips.

"I like you a lot, Suke," Okuyasu whispered in between kisses.

"I think I might like you more, Oku," Josuke responded, smiling and kissing the sophomore once again.

"You know you can kiss me anytime you want, right?" The black-eyed boy asked the other. "I don’t mind, you're beautiful and I like you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

One kiss became five. Five became ten. Ten became fifteen. Fifteen became twenty. Twenty kisses, and Josuke was absolutely breathless. He was melting in Okuyasu’s hands, ice cream on a sunny, scorching, sticky summer's day. With all that he had left in him, he deepened the kiss. Okuyasu responded quickly, changing his pace. He moved his left hand from the side of Josuke’s face to the nape of his neck, tangling his fingers in his deep indigo hair and pulling him closer. His right hand left its place on the tawny couch cushion to rest on the older’s hip.

As the minutes fly, their kiss becomes something more. In an almost animalistic show of affection, Okuyasu had Josuke pinned to the couch, and was planting swift, open-mouthed kisses down the boy's neck. His intention was to rile the older boy up, and that is exactly what he did. Just as Josuke had begun running his fingers through the younger's ebony hair, a phone went off. The two nearly jumped out of their skins, and both instinctually looked toward the coffee table, sighing agitatedly at the sight of Okuyasu’s bright phone screen reading, "Text from Mom." He removed himself from above the junior, grabbing his phone and opening the message.

"Goddamn it, Mom, why now?"

"What is it?"

"My mom is telling me to come home," Okuyasu said with a frown.

Josuke sat up. “But you’re a grown man, can’t you tell her no?”

“Fuck no, she pays for my tuition.”

Josuke pressed his lips together. "Oh, well I could bring you home, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, I would like that."

Okuyasu hopped off the back of Josuke’s motorcycle, placing a quick, but nonetheless passionate kiss on his lips before walking up to his door.

"Bye! Please text me when you get home. Thanks for driving me!"

"Anything for you, and of course I will. Bye, Oku," Josuke said affectionately, waiting until he was inside the house before driving off.

Today is the day. Josuke clutched his pencil, knuckles white. The science exam was insanely hard for him, even though he had studied with Okuyasu for a month. Okuyasu . That's why it's tough.

“All I can think about is Okuyasu... His eyes, his smile, his voice, his- Stop it. Stop it Josuke, pull yourself together.” The junior inhaled deeply. “I've got this.”

Once he had answered the first question, everything fell into place. He was the first to finish, with Okuyasu right after. Once they returned to their seats, the sophomore slipped the older a piece of paper.

How did you do?

Josuke grinned and wrote his response.

I think I did good. What about you?

I’m pretty sure I did well.

Good. If I pass, I'll never be able to repay you.

You do not have to. <3

"You two! Yes, you guys! Are you passing notes?"

"No sir," Okuyasu lied, round eyes ready to guilt trip their professor.

"Then what were you doing?"

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The raven haired boy jumped up, grabbing the older's hand in excitement. They're getting their tests back, hopefully to see their hard work pay off. The teacher handed Josuke his test, and then gave Okuyasu his. The two boys left the classroom, and outside in the hall, they looked at their scores.

"What'd you make?"

"Hundred," Okuyasu laughed. "And you?"

Josuke beamed, quickly turning the paper to show the other. "One fucking hundred! Thank you so much, Oku," he exclaimed, pulling the younger in for a hug enthusiastically.

“I need to repay you."

“No you don’t-!”

“Just let me!”

Okuyasu rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

"Twelfth floor library bathroom, right after classes end," the junior said with a smirk.

Okuyasu thought for a second, and then shook his head. "I thought we were meeting up with the others after school?"

"It’ll be quick."

Okuyasu knocked on Koichi’s door at 4:50, about 40 minutes after they were supposed to be at his house. Both of them looked disheveled, hair sticking up, clothes wrinkled, and some red spots on each boy's neck.

The door swung open. "Where were you guys?"

"Sorry, I was busy doing stuff," Josuke said as he walked in.

Okuyasu chuckled lowly from behind him. "I'm stuff," he whispered as he entered the house.

Yukako giggled. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

The others cheered when they entered into the living room.

"Party time!" Mikitaka cheered, pulling out his phone. "We're playing truth or dare! I'll go first. Rohan, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to tell us who you like."

"Fuck you," he sighed. "I like the student teacher in my biology class... Happy?"

Yukako smiled. "I don't know if he is," she started, dragging out her words. "But I am! I just won a bet," she giggled, winking.

"Damn it," MIkitaka whined.

"I'd like my $200 now. You heard the man, he said he has the hots for Mr. Kujo. No questions," she stated.

"Okay, fine," he groaned, reluctantly pulling a wad of cash from his jacket pocket.

“What the fuck guys? You betted on if I liked the student teacher?” Rohan stared at the two in disbelief as they happily nodded. He gave them a nasty look before continuing the game. "Okuyasu, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Why were you and Josuke late?"

"I was busy getting fucked in the library bathroom," he smirked.

Josuke screeched in embarrassment, hands flying to his face. "You were not supposed to tell them that! The plan was to say we had ‘bro bonding’ time dude!"

"Oh my god, I didn't need to know that," Reimi complained, shutting her eyes and grimacing in disgust.

The room finally calmed down again five minutes later, and Okuyasu said, "Yukako, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to tell us the most horrible thing you've ever done."

"I put laxative powder in my 5th grade teacher's coffee every day because she told me to redo a project I had done in the beginning of the year. One day she was teaching and shit herself in front of the class, and everyone but her knew it was because of me," she said, hysterically laughing.

"Damn, that's cold," Koichi said, laughing. “I can’t believe you never told me about that!”

“I love being a bitch,” she giggled. "Ummm, Josuke! Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Josuke said quietly, unsure of his choice.

"Who topped, you or Okuyasu?"

Josuke paused, waiting for Okuyasu’s answer. He was completely flustered.

“I don't want them to know that I'm not a-!”

"He topped," Okuyasu answered for his boyfriend, smirking.

“Well, fuck.”

Rohan gasped. " YOU bottomed?"

"Hell yeah I did. Pretty boy couldn't bottom if he wanted to. He was loud, too."

"GOD, OKUYASU! " Josuke shrieked, eyes wide and face crimson red.

"Sounded kinda like that," the younger added, laughing.

"I'm going to kill you later. I’ve watched enough television to know how to hide your body." Josuke rolled his sharp blue eyes. "Any fucking way, I vote we play a different game.”

For hours, the group played party games, and once it got late, they all laid down and talked until they fell asleep.

The end of the year was upon the group, and it was finally the night of spring formal

Okuyasu was absolutely terrified. What if he didn't look good enough? What if Josuke ditched him? What if Akira got him alone again? What if-?

"Okuyasu! Josuke’s here," his mom yelled from downstairs. He straightened his navy blue suit jacket, making sure that his silky hair was in place. He almost ran down the stairs, and when he reached the bottom, his mouth hung open in awe. There stood Josuke in a royal purple suit, a hint of makeup dusted over his face. His indigo hair wasn’t styled how he normally would have. Tonight, he wore it down, shoulder length locks shining in the light, albeit a little messy. He grinned at Okuyasu with that stupid smile that he adored.

"You look beautiful," the sophomore whispered, walking toward his boyfriend. "Can I... Can I kiss you?"

Josuke nodded, blushing, and Okuyasu gently placed his lips on the other man's.

"This one's going on facebook!"

"Mom!"

"Alright you two, have fun, don't do anything you'll regret! Also, Josuke, if you'd like to stay here with him after prom, I'd be more than happy to let you," the black-eyed boy's mom said with a smile.

"Thank you!"

"It's no problem. I’ll be gone when you get back but I should be back in the morning with breakfast! Bye boys!"

Josuke stepped outside, hand in hand with Okuyasu. He helped his boyfriend onto his motorcycle for what felt like the five-hundredth time this semester, then pulled himself up. The junior kissed the other over his shoulder before starting the vehicle and driving off. After eating, the two boys pulled up at the building where prom was being held, along with their friends. The dates, with their fingers laced together, walked inside the building, and people began to go silent. Their classmates couldn't believe their eyes.

"Josuke? You're here with Okuyasu?"

"I sure am," the junior bragged, kissing his date’s cheek. The night went by so quickly, one minute, the two were attempting to teach Koichi and Yukako how to dance, and the next, Josuke was slow-dancing with Okuyasu, their foreheads pressed together, and smiles playing on their lips.

"You know, I think I love you, Suke. I really do."

“I think that I love you too, Oku."

The night sadly came to an end, and everyone went their own ways. Josuke took a quick detour to his house to get clothes, and then he brought Okuyasu home. Okuyasu turned to look at Josuke as they closed the door behind them. "Hey, now that we have the house to ourselves, we could-" "There's no ‘we could.’ We are ," the junior stated, kissing the other suddenly.

Chirp! Chirp!

"Fuck those stupid ass fucking ass birds man," Josuke groaned, burying his face in the base of Okuyasu’s neck.

The sophomore laughed, half awake. "Fuck you too."

Like lightning, the junior popped his head up. "Been there, done that." Okuyasu grinned, planting a kiss on the older boy's lips. It was a long, sweet kiss, and both boys loved every second of it. "I think we need to put some clothes on, Suke."

"If you can even get up."

"Hey!" Okuyasu smacked him with a pillow. "You're not that big," he reasoned, attempting to stand up, only to wince and sit back down.

" Oh, you're not that big! Pfft, Josuke isn't big!" He mocked. "Who's not big now, hmm?"

"Please just shut your fat fucking mouth and help me up. This is your fault anyway," Okuyasu said, slightly annoyed and more than embarrassed. After Josuke had helped him up, they got themselves dressed and headed into the kitchen, where the sophomore's mom was making breakfast.

"Morning boys! How'd you sleep?"

"Good," they simultaneously answered.

"Good, good," the woman said, turning around. "Are you boys planning on going anywhere today?"

"Yeah, I'm going to take Okuyasu to the mall and stuff," Josuke said, smiling at her.

The black haired woman smiled. "Then you may want to cover that hickey up, sweetheart."

Okuyasu flushed. "I-"

"It's okay, I knew that you two probably made out at prom."

He nodded and his mom smiled warmly at the two boys. The junior was in awe, but he just kept his mouth shut. After breakfast, the boys showered and put on some nicer clothes, bid Okuyasu’s mom goodbye, and walked out the door, jumping onto the motorcycle. They spent the entire day together, and honestly, it was the happiest either of them had ever been. Okuyasu stole kisses throughout the day, often catching Josuke off guard. Hopefully every day will be like this for the rest of their lives. Josuke was so thankful that he knocked Okuyasu over that day. If he hadn't, he would have never talked to him.

"Josuke?"

"Yeah?"

"You're so beautiful," Okuyasu whispered, gazing at his boyfriend. The sun was cascading off his hair and skin perfectly, causing him to glow.

"W-What?"

"You're beautiful."

"Shut up, Oku."

"You're so pretty," the younger marveled.

"Shut up!”

Okuyasu wrapped his arms around Josuke, kissing him quickly before talking.

"I love you, you fucking jerk," he said with a smile.

"I love you too, you fucking idiot," the junior couldn't help but laugh. He had Okuyasu wrapped around his finger, and vice versa.

At that moment, everything else didn't matter. There was nothing more important to them than the boy sitting in front of them. It was just them, and only them. It was just them, and that's how they hoped it would stay forever.

"some people are so bitter

to them you must be kindest" -rupi kaur, "milk and honey"

[herroyalhighnessqueenmomo]

For Eddie (A playlist created by me inspired by my love for Eddie Munson)

So these are all the songs I have put together for this playlist I created and I tend to listen from time to time. A lot of these makes me think of Eddie and I cherish them. Hope you all enjoy. I intend to edit and add more songs to the playlist in the future if any songs fit in the playlist to me.

After Dark by Mr. Kitty: Honestly I think about the music video someone created for this that was edited from the movie Career Opportunities. Something about roller-skating around in an empty store alone with Eddie just sounds like a randomly great date.

All I Wanted by Paramore: I really want to write a fic based off of this or someone else to. Every time I read an unrequited love angst fic about Eddie, this song is playing in my head.

Baby Got Back by Sir Mix a lot: Still think Eddie would love this song if he loved big girls.

Back in Black by AC/DC: Eddie would love this

Back in the Saddle by Aerosmith: And this one too

Before I Forget by Slipknot: Eddie pegs me as a Slipknot fan.

Big and Chunky by Will.I.Am: Eddie loves us big girls. This is a battle I am willing to die for.

Bodies by Drowning Pool: I feel like this is a super metal song he would love automatically.

Boom Boom Boom by the Vengaboys: This is just my fave song by the Vengaboys.

Bring me to Life by Evanescence: I am convinced Eddie would consider this a beautiful love song.

Cannibals by Hey Violet: I want Eddie/Joseph’s body to be donated to me. That is all

Cherry Pie by Warrant: I want an au where Eddie falls for a stripper or something and this is the song she should dance to. That would be great.

Closer by Nine Inch Nails: Because I personally would love to get fucked like an animal by Eddie.

Come as you are by Nirvana: I am convinced 90s Eddie would be into the whole grunge thing and Nirvana would be one of his faves.

Coming Undone by Korn: Eddie probably would actually listen to Korn unironically.

Crawling by Linkin Park: Eddie would have loved Linkin Park.

Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry: Ever since I read this one fic where stripper Eddie danced to this song, I can only ever associate this song with him.

Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne: This is a classic.

Dead Bodies Everywhere by Korn: Eddie would relate to this song a lot.

Death by Rock and Roll by the Pretty Reckless: If Eddie could he would want his tombstone to say ‘Death by Rock and Roll’

Do You Wanna Touch Me by Joan Jett: Another fic I read where this song was mentioned and now I only ever think about Eddie for this.

Dragula by Rob Zombie: I have no idea. I just think Eddie would really fuck with this song.

Duality by Slipknot: He just really fucks the way the guitar just melts well with the drums.

Eat Me by Demi Lovato: This is a banger and Eddie would definitely get behind this.

Enemy by Imagine Dragons: Everyone really was his enemy, like literally.

Enter Sandman by Metallica: I don’t think this needs an explanation.

Even Flow by Pearl Jam: Idk if just reminds me of Eddie.

Everywhere I go by Hollywood Undead: I can’t quite put my finger on why this song makes me think of Eds but it does.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Metallica: Nough said

Forgotten by Avril Lavigne: This is a song I used on Faded Memories so I always think of Eddie.

GUY.exe by Superfruit: I wish I could synthesize Eddie into my life 😅

Guys My Age by Hey Violet: This is technically more for Joseph since he is a few years older than me but is super mature and idk I just love it.

Gypsy by Dio: Eddie would love this since its Dio

Head like a Hole cover by Gina and the Eastern Block: AU where Eddie is either a switch or a sub has me thinking about this.

Hella Good by No Doubt: For some reason makes me think of Eddie

Highway to Hell by AC/DC: Since everyone thinks he worships satan he would just be like “Well fuck it guess I’m on the highway to hell anyways”

Honest by Mali Koa: My fic faded memories.

I Love Rock n’ Roll by Joan Jett: Self Explanatory

I was made for lovin’ you by Kiss: Eddie claims this is the best love song ever.

In the End by Linkin Park: This is Eddie’s Gospel

Kick me by Sleeping with Sirens: Another one of Eddie’s Gospels.

Kickapoo by Tenacious D: He really would stand with one leg on his throne and just proudly exclaim “Tis I who fucked the dragon!” during a campaign and I could picture it.

Last Resort by Papa Roach: Eddie definitely fucks with this song.

Master of Puppets by Metallica: You know why

Metal Health by Quiet Riot: Great banger. You can’t tell me Eddie wouldn’t bang his head to this song.

My Dick by Mickey Avalon: He just really finds this song hilarious as shit.

Next Contestant by Nickelback: That one scene from my fic.

Numb by Linkin Park: Eddie is a huge fan of Linkin Park okay.

Only Girl by Rihanna: Make this a rock cover and and Eddie would swoon if someone sang this for him.

Paranoid by Black Sabbath: Now you know for a fact Eddie was a Black Sabbath fan.

Pour some sugar on me by Def Leppard: Eddie would fuck someone to this song. I’m sorry I don’t make the rules.

Same old Song and Dance by Aerosmith: From the scene of my fic.

Shout at the Devil by Motley Crue: Again totally going after the fuck it attitude since people think he worships satan.

Skin of my Teeth by Demi Lovato: In an AU where Eddie uses more drugs, this song would be too relatable to him.

Spitfire by the Prodigy: Oddly reminds me of Eddie

Stand up and Shout by Dio: Convinced this is Eddie’s fave song on this album.

Still into you by Paramore: Cute song

Straight Through the Heart by Dio: Song mentioned in my fic

Super Freaky Girl by Nicki Minaj: I wanna F-R-E-A-K with him. 😏

Unholy by Sam Smith: Eddie could do several Unholy things to me and I would thank him.

Up & Down by the Vengaboys: If you know you know.

Walk this Way by Aerosmith: Eddie just loves this song.

Welcome to the Jungle by Guns’ n Roses: If his D&D campaigns had a theme song this would be it

You Drive me Wild by the Runaways: Eddie drives us all wild. What else can I say?

[little-corritrice]

| The Mafia | ~ Part 21 ~

Genre: Mafia Au, Fanfiction

Pairing: | Seungmin & Jeongin / Minho {Near the End} |

Rating: Fluff, Slight Angst

Warnings: N/A

Synopsis ~ y/n was just living her life, but when she ran into troubles of her past, she found herself being auctioned off to a mafia named Ateez. Within her time, she soon finds another whom she knows...

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

The boys still pointed their guns at the guy, and I had mine against the guys head. "You have a bounty on your fucking head, you stupid bitch." They said, and I frowned. "Aww. Was that supposed to hurt my feelings?" I pouted, shaking my head. "You realize f/n is dead, right?" I whispered, and the guy froze again. "Stop lying!" He yelled, and I laughed loudly. "Call him. Prove me wrong." I said, and he did as told. I heard the voicemail, smirking as it was my father's voice screaming for mercy and in pain. "You stupid bitch!" The guy yelled, trying to grab my wrists. I jumped up, kicking him as I spun, successfully knocking him off. "Now you're pissing me off." I sighed, and he growled, lunging again. I shot at his leg, and he screamed in pain as he fell down, clutching his knee in hand. "Now, I'm going to take off. If any of you follow, the next bullet is going in your head." I glared, walking out as the boys followed.

As I passed the counter, the lady call out for me. "Ms. y/n! Wait." She said, and I stopped, turning around. "Here you are. I'm so sorry about them!" She handed me a plastic bag, bowing 90 degrees afterwards. "Please, stand up. It's okay. Thank you so much." I smiled, patting her shoulder. I walked out, unlocking the car as we got in, the bikers all standing by the front of the restaurant. I drove off, and not even 2 minutes later, a bunch of single headlights were behind me. I groaned loudly, glancing behind me in the mirror. "Seungmin." I called, and he grabbed the wheel as I grabbed the gun from Jeongin. I rolled the window down, holding the pistol tightly as I sat on the window sill. "Hold her steady, Min." I called out and he nodded, going the same speed and going as straight as possible. I aimed the gun, staring directly at the guy, smirking lightly.

I breathed out before pulling the trigger, a loud pop being all I heard. There were only 3 other motorcycles, and I aimed at them too. 3 more pops were all I heard as I cheered slightly, getting back in the car through the window. I saw Jeongin had climbed to the front, also looking back. Seungmin smiled at me as I sat on his lap, and I smiled brightly. "Got 'em!" I cheered, and he chuckled, shifting to 6th as we sped off, all of us laughing. When we pulled into the yard, I saw the garage already door open, and everyone was standing there. I got out of the car, Seungmin and Jeongin following. I sat on the hood of my car as everyone piled in front of it. "What?" I asked, holding the bowl of hot noodles the girl gave me. "What the hell is this?" Chan said, tossing his phone at us. I realized they were all suited up.

The bell went off in my head as Seungmin and Jeongin looked at the picture before they showed me. I laughed as I saw me sticking out of the car window, aiming the gun at the people. "Oh, yeah. We had some bikers come after us. Nothing bad though." I said, and Chan sighed, rubbing his temples. "You could've gotten hurt." "You should've called us." "We would've come to help you." Some said, and I slurped my noodles as I stared at them all. "Could've, should've, would've." I said, and Felix slightly laughed. All of them except Chan and Minho left the garage, and I groaned as I knew what he was going to say. "Save your breath, Christopher." I glared, throwing my noodles away as he looked confused. "You can go with the others while we talk it out. That's what you were going to say, no?" I smiled, and he stared at me bewildered before just turning and leaving.

I turned to Minho, pushing myself off the car as I got into it. "Get in." I said simply, starting the car as he didn't protest, getting in. I drove off, going down the night streets, lampposts lighting here and there. I parked the car as we reached our destination, getting out and locking the car once he got out.

I walked to the bench, sitting down as I stared at the city. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, but I didn't say anything, just scooting closer as I rested my head on his shoulders. "Forgiven, Forgotten. Even though it hurt, I won't hold a grudge. We both were stupid and it should have never happened." I said, and he shook his head. "You shouldn't forgive me so easily. I brought up what they did to you, and blamed it on you. Y-you should hate me." He said, and I chuckled, looking up at him as I grabbed his face. "Hate you? Please, that could never happen." I smiled softly, and he smiled, leaning down as our lips connected, our lips moving perfectly in sync with one another.

We stayed like that for a while before we needed air, pulling away with smiles. "Ready to go home?" I asked, and he nodded, grabbing my hand as we got up. He opened my door for me, and I smiled as he still let me drive. He rushed in the other side, and I smiled. I drove home once again that night, happy with the way things were. We pulled in the driveway, parking in the garage as Jeongin and Jisung ran out. I smiled as Jeongin picked me up bridal style, rushing back into the house. "Innie, I have legs, ya know?" I giggled, and he smiled, setting me down besides Seungmin. "Yeah, but you would have taken forever to get over here." He said, and I smacked him softly, shaking my head. "So, what's going on?" I asked, and everyone smiled, turning to me as they chuckled. "What now?" I whined and groaned, already knowing we had another mission.

[lumiereandcogsworth]

4, 7, 10, 34, 41, 49, 56, 64, 84, 90

4. Who in the OTP would be more ready to sacrifice themself for the other? well, in canon adam pretty much does sacrifice himself by letting belle go, thinking she wouldn’t return and damning him to life as a beast. that being said i think they’re both always ready to sacrifice themselves for each other. they’re so dramatically in love and we know that belle IS willing to sacrifice herself for the ones she loves, taking maurice’s place in the dungeon at the beginning. adam and belle just both love so deeply, making me go completely insane in the process.

7. Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute? i actually do headcanon that adam gets glasses in his late 40s, how did you KNOW! i think belle somehow has remarkable eyes, doesn’t get them until she’s in her 60s. but anyway, adam’s super self-conscious about his glasses but belle thinks they’re SO cute and calls him her sexy librarian, hope this helps.

10. Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder? / Who takes photos of the other while they sleep? aww definitely belle. in modern au i think she’s definitely the photographer/scrapbooker.

34. Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship? hahaha that’s a classic incorrect quote. it would definitely be

belle: aww babe you had a crush on me? that’s so embarrassing

adam: we’re married

belle: still ;)

41. Who points at a dog when they see it? belle oh my gosh all the time. she even does this with their own dog. LOOK AT HER!!!!!! SHES PERFECT!!!!!

49. Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush? adam more frequently but they both do it. belle does it at public events, whispered in his ear, just to embarrass the hell out of him <3

56. Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? belle. that’s so canon it’s not even funny. i’ve written this before.

64. Who is always running late and always gives the other a running late quick kiss? belle! scatterbrained beloved! she always overschedules herself because she’s so ambitious but then never has time for anything and is running around all day trying to keep up. but she loves it, she needs to be busy or she’ll die.

84. If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips? HAHA, belle’s doing backflips, adam’s strolling behind. that really sums them up in general.

90. Who initiates duets and who is the better singer? belle initiates duets because she loves singing. they’re both good singers though, adam just doesn’t like to admit it or do it out loud ever <3 he’ll sing along with her SOMETIMES…. but he mostly reserves it for lullabies to his babies……🥺😭