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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

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You Bring Me Home—Chapter Two: Where the Heart Is

a/n: Thank you so much for all of the love you have shown to part one! I’m so glad to see that you’re enjoying YBMH so far, the story is just getting started. I hope you’ll stick around for the full thing, so without further ado, here’s chapter two! As always, my inbox is open so feel free to come chat with me when you have finished this part :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use

Word Count: 5.1k

read part one here

The phone screen flickers to life at the touch of Harry’s finger, flashing the exact same time that it had the last time he checked, though it feels like hours have passed since then. He sighs at the disappointing revelation and turns his phone over so that the screen meets the aged wood of the piano where it rests. In all honesty, Harry has no idea why he agreed to the interview in the first place. He had skillfully dodged the hundreds of requests for an exclusive tell-all following the untimely split of One Direction and successfully avoided the prying eyes of the general public for several months. So why had he indulged the first request from a girl he hardly knew without so much as a blink? The answer seemed a frustrating mystery to him, but to anyone else, the fluttering in his stomach when he caught a glimpse of her yellow Ford Bronco pulling up to the studio and the way he instinctively raked a hand through his hair gave the answer away.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry!” Alani apologizes, emerging from the car with a notebook nestled under her arm and a smoothie in each hand. She closes the door with her hip before making a beeline to the studio entrance where Harry stands, his right shoulder leaning against the doorframe with the same stoic expression Alani recognizes as his signature look.

“I had to get my sister to cover for me at the café and then I got lost because Google sent me to a Napua restaurant instead of the recording studio,” she rambles in an attempted continuation of her apology. “But anyway, this is for you. A peace offering and a thank you for doing this.”

Harry gingerly takes the green smoothie from her outstretched hand and offers a curt nod in response before ushering her inside.Alani pushes her sunglasses up and settles them into her windswept waves, trailing behind Harry and taking in the space. In one corner across the room, she notices a couple of brightly colored tapestries thumbtacked to the wall with a microphone stand perched in the center, all encased behind a screen of plexiglass. The adjacent wall is lined with guitars all standing at attention and glimmering, despite the dim lighting. Harry stops at the doorway of another room with a couch and a coffee table, the floor littered with wires and pieces of crumpled paper. He motions Alani to step inside and then clears his throat, which catches the attention of two other long-haired men chatting with amused expressions on their faces.

“Sorry lads,” Harry crosses his arms with eyes glued to the floor to avoid their questioning stares. “‘Fraid I have to intrude. Can we have this room?”

One of the men grins behind a full beard, popping a peanut M&M into his mouth before standing. “Sure thing, boss man. Let’s bounce, Rowland.”

The other man, also bearded but smaller in stature with a thin, pointed nose nods silently. He continues twirling two drumsticks between his fingers and points one of them at Harry in passing. Alani offers polite smiles at the both of them, and a quiet “thank you” falls from her lips as they exit without another word. Harry closes the door behind them and gestures to the couch, which she takes as her cue to sit.

“I like the uniform,” Alani smiles, gesturing to her hair as a comment on the fact that the three men all share similar lengths and styles.

“Thanks,” is all Harry says, taking a seat across from hers and clearly dismissing her attempt at humor.

To pacify the urge to fill the uncomfortable silence, Alani sips her strawberry smoothie and steals a glance through her eyelashes at Harry who is doing the same. She clears her throat after a minute and sets the drink on the table in front of her; a notebook takes its place on her lap.

“Thank you again for doing this, I really appreciate it,” Alani offers while digging through her bag for her phone. “I’m gonna record this on voice notes, just for the sake of quoting you accurately.”

“Sure,” Harry replies, occupying his gaze with the condensation trickling from the cup onto his fading black jeans.

Dry retorts from everyone else, especially customers, have little effect on the way Alani conducts herself. But every short comment from Harry, or lack thereof, makes her feel like a bug under a microscope. She settles her phone onto the coffee table and takes a deep breath to calm the trembling that spreads from her chest into her fingers and toes.

“So first, I wanted to ask about your time in Hawai’i. Are you enjoying it so far?” Alani poses the question lightly, hoping to open him up just enough to extract the story that she’s really looking for.

“It’s nice,” Harry nods, finally meeting her expectant stare. When she doesn’t respond for a beat, he clears his throat and adds on to the statement. “Weather’s good,”

Alani musters a half-hearted smile and glances down at the questions on her page. This is going to take for-fucking-ever, she sighs.

“Is that what drew you here—vacation? Getting away?”

“Yeah, pretty much,”

The row of guitars behind the singer catches her attention suddenly and guides the next question.

“And to write or.. record?”

Harry shifts in his seat, calculating his response carefully. “Both,”

“Solo stuff?”

Alani watches as he takes a slow sip of his smoothie and crosses his legs, an action which tells her that she’s struck a dead end. Or, at the very least, a door that she hasn’t gained his trust to open yet.

“You were with One Direction for half a decade,” She recovers. “Constantly releasing new music and touring. But now you’re here, doing neither, and haven’t done so for almost a year. What is that transition like?” Alani isn’t sure if Harry will answer when she poses the question, but to her surprise he meets her gaze and nods, as if to say that he accepts the inquiry.

“It’s different than anything I’ve ever done, for sure,” he starts slowly. It’d be a lie to say that he hasn’t given the breakup and, subsequently, his future outside of the band much thought. He thinks about it every day, especially his bandmates and their supportive fans. That much he has been able to unpack privately, but the rest of it—the sudden need to escape and write new music— is still something he can’t quite put into words, so he leans into the nostalgia and hopes it’ll suffice.

“Like you said, it’s been non-stop for the past five years, so I guess it is a bit jarring to come to a sudden halt after so much momentum. Obviously, it’s nice to have the time off, but I love putting out music and touring it. I wouldn’t trade that for anything,”

Alani is grateful to have more than a couple of words of material, despite the fact that it doesn’t really answer the question or tell her anything new about the man sitting crossed legged and closed off in front of her. Looking through her notes, Alani selects another question and embarks on a new angle.

“You were really young when all of that began,” she starts, thinking about how she could never have left her family and home at just 16. Hell, she was 22 and still figuring it out. Hopefully, if all things went well with this interview and Rolling Stone, she would finally find the opportunity to do it. “Do you ever think about where you would be if you hadn’t auditioned for X-Factor?”

Harry knows that she’s playing it safe, trying to feel him out and test the buttons she can push. He also knows that he’s being difficult, much more so than usual due to his nerves. So with an unfamiliar pang in his chest, he decides to relent the tiniest bit.

“Well, I’m starting to think maybe I could’ve been a professional surfer,” he offers matter-of-factly which makes Alani flash an amused grin. Harry’s sudden humor makes the room a bit less suffocating for the both of them and she’s grateful for it.

“Surfing, huh? This I have to see.” she quips back, suddenly trying to picture him ditching the black skinny jeans for a wetsuit.

He nods with a faint smirk. “Maybe you will.”

Alani meets his gaze with a shy smile of her own and her eyes fall to his lips for a brief second. The almost imperceptible action sends another foreign jolt through Harry’s chest. She opens her mouth to resume questioning when a loud bang startles them both and causes Harry to spin in his seat, looking through the glass window of the sound booth.

“Sorry!” A man with short, blonde hair and a fading tie dye shirt laughs while lifting the tipped over drum cymbals. “Don’t mind us!”

The two men from earlier straggle in behind and poorly conceal their own fits of laughter. Harry flashes his middle finger briefly, mouthing something that Alani can’t see but knows is undoubtedly rude. She suppresses a giggle and sneaks a glance at her phone, which indicates only a few minutes worth of dialogue. When she lifts her head, the door opens and the blonde man peeks his head in.

“Hello,” he greets with an extended hand before entering and taking a seat next to Alani on the couch. “Tom Hull, or Kid Harpoon...or just Tom, whatever you like best,”

She accepts his hand eagerly, not missing the way Harry pinches the bridge of his nose in her peripheral vision. “Mahealani Hale, or just Alani. Nice to meet you,”

“Wow, beautiful name,” Tom compliments. “Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t realize you had company, H,”

“She was just—”

“I’m writing about-” The two speak at the same time, making brief eye contact before Harry turns his attention back to Tom.

“Did you need something?” He asks. Tom’s eyes dart between Harry and Alani before he clears his throat and reclines in his seat.

“Just dropping by to see if you wanted to go for lunch...” he trails off, which Alani takes as a cue to start gathering her belongings.

“Kind of busy here,” Harry offers with a glance back at the girl seated awkwardly across from him. “Another time,”

At this, Tom turns to Alani and ignores his friend’s protests. “Alani, do you eat lunch?”

Before responding, she casts an apprehensive glimpse at Harry who has suddenly become very intrigued by the drink in his lap, purposefully avoiding her eyes.

“Uh.. well yeah, but I don’t-”

“Great! Have lunch with us,”

“Mate—” Harry speaks up.

Tom grins, shrugging. “What? You plan on starving the poor girl?”

“I really can’t, but thank you for the offer,” Alani explains with a sheepish smile, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It was really nice to meet you Tom. And thank you again, Harry, I’ll see you around.”

The musician watches her shuffle out of the sound booth quietly and turns his attention back at Tom, who sits with an incredulous look on his face.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” He asks, standing. “Go after her, dickhead!”

“It’s not like that she’s-”

“I really don’t give a fuck about your excuses, go!”

Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes, looking out the window as Alani slips through the front door.

She fishes her keys out of her bag and sighs when a familiar voice says her name.

“Alani!” Harry calls from the doorway, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. He makes his way down the steps and over to the driver’s side where she ghosts the key over the ignition.

“Come have lunch...please?”

“It’s okay,” she purses her lips together politely. “I don’t wanna get in the way,”

Harry catches his lower lip between his teeth and runs a hand through his hair, choosing his next words thoughtfully.

“No, you’re not—you won’t,” he starts. “I would really like it if you joined us for lunch, especially since our time got interrupted. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Alani can’t help the way her stomach flips at the words “our time” that fall from his lips and she finds herself nodding in agreement before her mind has had a chance to intervene.

She makes her way to the passenger seat of the Range Rover parked behind the studio, which she learns is where all of Harry’s entourage keeps their vehicles. A variety of brightly colored vintage cars are neatly parked, and it amuses her that Harry skips all of them, instead going straight for the black SUV with darkly tinted windows. At least he’s consistent, she smirks. As Alani climbs into the car, she is met by the warmth of Harry’s scent—something woodsy and vanilla— and the fact that she recognizes it makes her heart pound.

“You can connect your phone,” Harry nods to the stereo as he buckles his seatbelt. “To the Bluetooth, I mean, if you’d like.”

“Really?” she asks, brow raised in mild disbelief.

“Only if you play something good,” he teases with a stony expression, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Alani takes that as a challenge, scrolling through various playlists as Harry peels away onto the main road. Over the speakers, the beginning of “Don’t Worry Baby” by The Beach Boys surrounds the two of them.

“Is this to your liking, my liege?” Alani poses in an exaggerated British accent that makes Harry cringe, though the small grin on his face gives away his endearment.

“Yes, but please don’t do that accent ever again,”

“So you admit it, you’re the one with the accent,” she wiggles her brows, eyes peeling away from the view out her window to Harry in the driver’s seat.

“If it’ll get you to never do that one again, sure,” “Dunno, love,” she continues, watching the coast shimmer under the afternoon sun. “Think it kinda suits me,”

Harry shakes his head and checks the rearview mirror to make sure that he hasn’t lost Tom, Mitch, and Jeff in the car trailing behind.

“What’s it like?” Alani questions, studying the perfect slope of his pointed nose and strawberry pout.

“What’s what like?”

“England,”

Harry thinks for a second, recalling his London flat, lunches with his mum and sister, the streets of Trafalgar Square, and Abbey Road.

“Rainy,” is all he says.

Alani scoffs, which draws his attention over to where she lounges in his passenger seat, sitting comfortably as if it was exactly where she belonged. “That’s all?”

“What?” He questions, though he knows exactly what she means and is perfectly aware of his own stubbornness.

“Just seems like... I don’t know, such a generic description for a place you consider home,”

Harry mulls her response over, the word “home” especially catching his interest. It’s a strange concept in his mind because while, yes, England is where he has spent the majority of his life and where the people he loves most reside, he has never truly felt connected to just one place. And after spending his formative years traveling the world, who could blame him?

“It’s... safe,” he tries again, attempting to verbalize what he’s feeling. “When I’m there, I mean, I feel safe. Like I don’t have to be anyone or do anything specific, I can just... be. No expectations,”

Alani lets Harry’s words sit between them for a moment, sensing that there is still more he wants to say. When she doesn’t respond after a minute, he continues in an effort to clarify and fill the lull in the conversation.

“I used to think that London was just a starting point and that if I could make it to LA, it would mean that I had really made it, and I would feel more at home there,” he continues, slow and calculated. “But I dunno... when I’m there it still feels like an extended holiday, like I’m just buying time until I leave for the next place. London doesn’t feel like that, feels much more constant... so yeah, I guess it is home,”

As if she had read his mind earlier, Alani adds on. “Not to mention that’s where your family is, I’m assuming,”

Harry nods, once again thinking of his mum and sister. The image of their beaming faces brings the shadow of a dimple to his cheek. “Yeah,”

“What’s your family like?” She continues, truly interested and forgetting for a moment about the article she still has to write.

“Kind of small, I guess. S’really just my sister and my mum, but they’re,” Harry pauses, searching for the right words, “They’re the best. My mum’s probably the kindest woman I’ve ever met. Feel pretty lucky with that one, considering what a pest I was as a child,” he chuckles lightly and it’s a sound that Alani hadn’t heard up to this point, but one she knows she’ll replay in her mind over and over again.

“Gem’s pretty patient too—and brilliant, always the studious one,” he adds finally, a dreamy look on his face that Alani much prefers to the stoic one he always dons. .

“Ah yes, there’s always one,” she nods, catching the quirked brow he offers in response.

“Oh yeah? Are you the one in your family?”

“I guess so. School just seemed to come easily to me,”

“And what made you want to study journalism?” He questions, stopping to let a woman and her toddler cross.

Alani thinks about it for a moment while twirling a strand of fabric from the hem of her ripped shorts around her finger.

“I’ve always loved to write, ever since I was really little— like short stories and stuff. And I don’t know, I guess I like the idea of traveling and seeking out a story, too.”

Harry nods understandingly, pulling up to a curb across the street from a restaurant that Alani has frequented. It’s relatively empty at Pineapples for a summer afternoon, though most tourists don’t stray too far from the beaches, so Hilo maintains a healthy local population at all times. The pair climb out of the car and Alani makes her way to the rear where the rest of the group has parked. One of the men from earlier greets her with an outstretched hand while Harry chats with the other two that emerge.

“Hi I’m Jeff, it’s nice to meet you.” He smiles warmly, pushing his sunglasses into his hair.

“Alani. It’s nice to meet you, Jeff,”

“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude by not saying hi it’s just-”

Alani dismisses his concern with a wave of her hand. “Oh don’t worry about it! I was kind of nervous then, too. I don’t know if he told you, but I’m interviewing Harry,”

“Oh, right! Yeah, he did mention that I think,” Jeff recalls, “Which magazine are you with?”

“None.” Yet, Alani thinks, her mind wandering to the Rolling Stone rejection letter. “It’s for a class, I’m a journalism major. Harry was just being nice and agreed to let me write about his music,”

Jeff nods. “Got it. You know, he’s not normally this serious. Just got a lot on his mind but he’ll loosen up,” he explains quietly just as Alani and Harry’s eyes meet. She quickly averts her gaze back to the kind, bearded man standing before her.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” she smiles appreciatively.

“Where’s Jeffrey?” Harry speaks up, catching her attention. She looks back to Jeff, confused, before he shakes his head.

“Other Jeff, his manager.” He explains.

“Probably already inside, he said he’d meet us here.” Mitch pipes up.

With that, the rest of the crew head into the restaurant while Alani stays a few steps behind to follow their lead.

“Y’okay?” Harry asks, shuffling along beside her.

Alani startles slightly at his unexpected presence, but relaxes as their strides fall into sync.

“Yeah, thanks. And thank you for the invite, too.” She offers, the corners of her mouth upturned softly. Harry responds with a tight-lipped smile of his own and clears his throat before holding the door open for her.

In the far corner of the restaurant near the open balcony, Harry’s manager Jeff waves the group over to the table he saved. Everyone exchanges greetings and settles into their seats, the two at the end facing each other remain open for Alani and Harry.

“Jeff, this is..Mahealani, did I get that right?” Tom gestures to Alani for approval.

She nods and waves. “Yes, but you can just call me Alani,”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeff calls from the other end of the table, glancing over to Harry in search of an explanation for her presence.

“I’m writing a piece about Harry and his music,” Alani offers. “But I’d love to talk to all of you, if you have a chance.”

Jeff nods, still shooting Harry a knowing look. “Yeah, sure thing.”

The two Jeffs, Tom, and Mitch engage in their own conversations, mostly inside jokes that go over Alani’s head. Harry watches, silent for most of the interaction and barely engaging the girl seated across from him, though he is overwhelmingly aware of her presence. When the server comes to take their order, warmth floods to Alani’s cheeks.

“Alani, hey!” the tall server greets, flashing a handsome, pearly-white smile. “Long time, no see. You’re looking good as always,”

“Mahalo, David. You look good, as well,” She smiles politely, catching onto the way that Harry sits a little straighter in her peripheral vision. David still pays no regard to the rest of the table, but his gaze momentarily flickers over Harry and sizes him up before returning to Alani.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were on a date,” he apologizes, which makes Alani’s eyes bulge and Mitch snicker beside her.

“Oh no, we’re not—“

“He’s just—” Alani and Harry speak at the same time, eyes darting to one another before she explains.

“I’m... working on something—an article,” she says, and David nods understandingly.

“Oh...right. Big-shot reporter, I almost forgot,” David teases in a snide way that makes Harry’s blood boil with annoyance. “Anyways, what can I get you all? The usual for you, right Alani?”

She nods curtly while the rest of the group take turns ordering. After the server has gone, Harry notices a shift in her easy-going demeanor and decides that it’s his turn to break the ice.

“Come here often then?” He poses gently, taking a sip of his lemonade.

Her lips press into a tight line as her eyes wander to the other patrons. “Yeah, kinda,”

“Asshole ex-boyfriend ruined that, I’m guessing?”

Alani lets out an amused breath and shakes her head.

“He’s not my ex. I mean we went out, like, once in high school... and maybe a handful of times in college but that’s it, really,”

Harry studies the uneasiness in her expression trying, and failing, to understand what she’s holding back.

“Seems like you dodged a bullet,” he confides, leaning in. Alani’s eyes meet his and her pursed lips ease into a small grin, which Harry mirrors with a simper of his own. As he rests his smooth chin in his palm, she notices a large, healing scab along the underside of his forearm, and her brows furrow.

“How’d that happen?” Alani asks.

“He jumped out a window,” Mitch intervenes. “Though to be fair, he was high,”

Harry shoots a deathly glare at Mitch and turns back to Alani. “It was a one-time thing.”

“It was shrooms,” Mitch replies with an amused smirk.

“Hardcore,” Alani giggles lightly.

Mitch swirls the straw in his mimosa with his index finger while extending a pinky at Alani. “You do drugs?”

She shrugs, taking a sip of her Mai Tai. “Smoked weed a few times, though not enough to consider myself a pothead, I guess,”

Mitch snorts and steals a glance at Harry. “Pot makes our boy sleepy, and hungry. Alcohol makes him giggly. Shrooms get him buzzed just right,”

Harry’s cheeks flush and he averts his gaze past Alani where families and visitors roam the streets outside.

“Jumping out a window’s ‘just right’? I’d hate to see what going overboard looks like.” she teases, watching the blush of embarrassment creep across the bridge of Harry’s nose and cheeks.

“Keeps things interesting.” Mitch shrugs, turning back to Jeff to join his previous conversation.

Alani feels a strange sense of endearment wash over her at the thought of a giggly Harry, dimples replacing a deeply furrowed brow. In the short time she’d known and served him at the café, she’d only ever seen him reserved—polite, at best. Alani had hoped that interviewing Harry would provide some insight into his mysterious background, but she didn’t imagine that she would want to know more than what could be penned in her article. In the few minutes spent mingling with him and his friends, she began to think that maybe there was something worth getting to know, not just professionally, but before she can give it a second thought, David returns with their food.

“Thanks, Derek.” Harry says, flashing a facetious grin at David who stands confused for a second before sauntering back to the kitchen. Alani laughs, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth, and Harry’s stomach flips at the sound. He immediately wishes he knew what else he could do to hear it again.

Alani scrapes the last bits of potato off her plate and leans back in her seat, patting her growing food baby.

“I’m thinking of naming mine Oliver, you?” She sighs contentedly.

“Anne, after my mum,” he quips back, pulling out his wallet.

Alani reaches into her bag for her own, but Harry shakes his head and speaks up. “Don’t worry about it, ‘s on me,”

“Oh, no Harry you really don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugs, slipping his card onto the small clipboard attached to their receipts.

“Thank you,” Alani smiles, feeling warmth spread through her limbs, but she assumes that it’s mostly due to the rum in her system.

Harry pushes a lock of hair behind his ear and returns the wallet to his back pocket without another word. While there is no alcohol coursing through his blood, he refuses to believe that the burning in his cheeks has anything to do with the girl seated before him.

Alani climbs back into the passenger’s seat of the SUV while Harry settles behind the wheel. He braces his right hand behind the headrest of her seat and skillfully reverses, only becoming aware of their proximity when he turns back to switch gears. Alani peels her eyes from his and focuses on finding a playlist for their journey back to the studio, her mind racing as she clicks shuffle. Harry’s arm retreats, much to Alani’s disappointment, and his ears perk up when he hears the familiar chimes at the beginning of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere”.

“‘S a good one,” Harry breaks the silence, tapping on the steering wheel. “Christine always says it’s her favorite,”

“Christine...McVie?” Alani questions with an eyebrow quirked. “You know Christine McVie?”

“Kind of,” he shrugs, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk.

“Do you know Stevie Nicks?”

“Yeah. She lives in London,”

“Holy shit!” Alani marvels, covering her mouth in excitement.

Harry chuckles lightly, stealing a glance over at Alani still processing the news. “Big fan?”

She whips her head away from the window and scoffs. “Massive. Named my car Stevie, actually,”

“Hardcore,” Harry teases, echoing her own comment about his psychedelic escapades.

“Yes, Mr. Spider-Man. In my own right, I suppose it is hardcore,” Alani retorts.

“I thought Spider-Man climbed buildings. Don’t think he jumped out of them.”

“I’m sure he’s done his fair share of both.”

The two drive down the coast for a while without a word, Harry drumming against the steering wheel as the song dies out while Alani soaks in the view outside her window. Suddenly, she reaches over and taps him on the arm, drawing him out of his reverie.

“Turn right up there!”

“Why?” Harry asks, already putting his blinker on.

Alani doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Harry saw it just seconds after turning into the lookout and it left him breathless. The car comes to a stop and Alani wastes no time unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping into the humid air, Harry close behind. Before them, the biggest rainbow either of them had ever seen shimmers in the high afternoon sun like a wall of unbelievable vibrant hues. Harry had never seen one this close, he felt as though he could reach out and feel each color slip through his fingers.

“Are you making a wish?” Alani asks reverently, as if raising her voice too loud will spook it away.

“I thought that was for shooting stars,”

“We’re literally staring face to face with a rainbow and you’re gonna argue with me about the logistics of a wish?”

“Okay, okay,” he relents, grinning to himself as his eyes flutter close.

Harry takes a deep breath and searches his brain for something, anything, but there is only one word pounding in his mind. He doesn’t know why it stood out to him when Alani first said it, but it struck a chord within him that hasn’t stopped reverberating, so it must mean something. Harry swallows the lump forming at the back of his throat and releases the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. When his eyes flutter open again, he steals a peek through the corner of his eye at the girl beside him and then fixes his gaze back on the rainbow.

“S’quite big, innit?” He remarks, breaking the reverent silence.

Alani snorts and shakes her head, turning on her heel back to the car.

“You’re so eloquent. Can’t wait to hear what lyrical gems are hiding in your new album,”

“Heyyy,” Harry pouts, climbing behind the wheel. “Who said anything about an album?”

As they peel away from the lookout, Harry can sense something has shifted in the atmosphere, though he can’t quite put his finger on it. He opts to ignore it and poses a lighthearted question instead.

“What’d you wish for?”

Alani narrows her eyes playfully. “You’re not supposed to tell. It won’t come true.”

Harry hums, trying to imagine what she could possibly wish for that would require such secrecy, but his thoughts wander back to the singular word that has haunted his mind since it left her lips.

Home.

Next Chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry fic #ybmh

43 notes · View notes

thotsforvillainrights · 3 years

Note

Ok this idea has been living rent free on my mind just hear me out, how about chubby Kai being insecure so the reader just shows him how beautiful he is, the reader being a soft dom and Kai being a sub.

(Pspsps can the reader have a bodyworship and a praise kinks please)

[Not me coming back after a long hiatus with barely reasonable smut lol. You’ll have to forgive me if this one isn’t as good. I feel like whatever ability I had to write smut just disappeared but I’m hoping I haven’t lost it. I promise I’ll do my best!]

~Adoration~

-Chubby!Kai Chisaki smut-

Adoration- deep love and respect

You sighed while mindlessly watching the show in front of you from your spot on the couch. Your eyes were trained on the TV but your mind was elsewhere. The people on screen slowly shifted into colorful blobs and soon your interest in whatever they were talking about began to drown out as well. It was like your body was there but it wasn’t at the same time. Instead of focusing on the shows, you were wondering what was taking so long in the other room. Usually it was the other way around, but tonight Kai was taking too long to get ready. After a while you began to worry, so reluctantly you stood from the warmth of the couch and trudged down the hallway, careful to not step on your dress end/tux pant leg (or whatever choice of fancy clothing reader chooses to wear). When you finally made it to the room, there he was. Kai was standing in front of the floor mirror while scowling to himself. Your eyes trailed to the myriad of clothes that littered the bed. He noticed your reflection behind him in the mirror and turned to look at you, trying his best to hide his discomfort. “Y/N, I’ll be finished in a moment. Go wait for me in the living room.” He demanded quietly while fumbling to unbutton the shirt he was wearing. You chuckled and pushed some of the clothes on the bed out of the way before taking a seat. “I don’t know if you noticed this or not Mr. Chisaki, but that’s what I’ve been doing for the past hour and a half. You don’t suppose we’ll be able to make it to the event within the next 20 minutes do you?” You teased him but your smile instantly diminished when you noticed his eyes were a bit glassy?

“Kai? What’s wrong?” He scoffed at your concern and tossed the shirt he was wearing onto the bed with the others. He went to the closet to search for something new but he paused when he noticed it was nearly barren, save for but a few ties hanging up. “Perhaps you should go without me...I’ve...changed my mind.” He spoke quietly, his back still turned to you. “What? Are you being serious with me right now or is this a joke?” You furrowed your brows. Suddenly he turned to look at you with a touch of anger and desperation in his eyes. “Do I look like the type to kid around?” You sighed and stood up to approach him. He was confused for the most part when you made it over to him and gently grabbed the sides of his face in your hands. You smiled and nuzzled your nose against his before planting a gentle kiss upon each cheek. You managed to diffuse his anger but the mood shifted when you saw his eyes glisten with water, tears threatening to fall but he was too stubborn to let it happen. “Kai please talk to me, you know I’ll listen if you tell me how you feel.” He sighed at your words and looked everywhere but into your eyes as he started to explain.

“None of my clothes look good on me anymore. I’ve gained so much damn weight in the past few months that I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore. I can barely stand to look at myself anyway...Aside from that, I can hear some of the men at the very lowest rung of the Hassaikai make fun of me behind my back. Surely I killed them off but it doesn’t diminish how their words made me feel. My quirk can easily be used to get rid of this issue but I feel like that’s the easy way out of things. I’d like to become much more active but between work I just can’t find the time. I’m a disappointment and far beneath what you deserve to be seen with.” He finished ranting to you and quickly reached up to wipe a tear away but you beat him to it. When he looked at you with wet eyes, he expected to see you agreeing with him but instead you met his gaze with adoration, love, and support. “Kai I can understand how you must be feeling right now. Gaining weight like that must’ve felt drastic considering its only been a few months but you shouldn’t be caught up comparing yourself to the past yknow? We’re humans, and our bodies grow with change. It’s good you want to work out instead of just using your quirk, but you should know that working out could be done to make yourself feel better health-wise instead of changing your appearance to change others. Personally I thought you were handsome before and I still think you’re handsome now as well. No matter what appearance you take on you will always be Kai Chisaki, young head of the Shie Hassaikai. If I can love you, then you owe it to yourself to love you as well. Got that, my capo?” He rolled his eyes at the nickname and rubbed away more tears. “I suppose...but now what will we do? I’ve made us late to the entire damn event and I’m sure Pops and the others are waiting on us.” He scratched his chin in thought and stared off at the wall while trying to figure out a game plan. Meanwhile you had much more devious intentions wrapped beneath all that fluff you laid on him. “Angel???” You caught his attention immediately when those hands of yours fumbled with the rim of his underwear. His ears and cheeks quickly turned pink/red from the shock of it all. “What are you doing?”

As if he had to ask.

You smirked at him and flashed mischief from those half-lidded eyes. “What do you mean what am I doing? I’m simply showing my husband how beautiful he is and how much I appreciate his body. You can’t honestly expect me to give up this opportunity when you’re right here in front of me.” You feigned innocence and he could already feel himself hardening up...especially with the way your free hand gripped him and teased him from the outside of the underwear. “Angel, but we’re already late. What if we-” He paused and sucked in air from his teeth when you slipped his cock out from the confinement of the underwear, and your tongue took an experimental swish at the tip. His hands clenched at his sides, trying his hardest not to grip your head and guide you. He was trying to deny it, keep his composure but you were too much to handle sometimes. “C’mon Kai, since we’re already late to the party, why don’t we have our own fun here, hmm? Be real good for me and let me taste that cock of yours? Maybe if you’re really a good boy, I’ll let you cum. How does that sound hmmm?” You voice may have seemed sweet, but he wasn’t dumb enough to fall for it. He knew of your dominance sometimes displayed in the bedroom when you were up to it. The temptation to bend to your will was all too strong so he obeyed. “Fine, j-just make it qu-quick.” He pouted and looked away from you, his face cherry red by now. You smirked in triumph and wasted no time on him. Taking his entire member and shoving it into your mouth at once may have been the closest thing to heaven on Earth he would ever feel in his life. In all honesty, he almost came right then and there, but he wanted to hold out for you. He needed to be good for you or else your punishment wouldn’t be nearly as soft as you were treating him right now.

“Mmmm, you’re certainly tasty Chisaki~” You spoke after slowly moving your mouth from him. You spit on the tip and used your thumb to spread it around, taking delight in the way he shivered under your touch. “Are those knees of yours getting weak, capo? You can’t really be giving out on me already can you?” You teased him and he groaned lowly. “C-cut it out and just suck it already.” You frowned at his demands and shook your head. “What are the magic words, handsome?” He blushed lightly at your compliment and uttered a soft ‘please’ while looking away. You smiled and began swirling your tongue around the head of his cock while using your hand to gently massage him. You only pulled away to occassionaly speak praises on him.

“You have such a lovely body Kai, it’s just right for me. I love your tummy, I love your cheeks, you shoulders, back, arms, all of it. I adore most of all the way it react when I’m touching you like this while we’re alone.” He shuddered at your words and only began quietly moaning when you went back down on him. With each bob of your head and hand, it was getting harder and harder to contain the sounds he was making. By the time he was nearing his finish, he was a moaning mess. His legs were shaking and standing was barely an option anymore but he held on so as to not appear to weak during your show of dominance. His face was a brilliant red/pink, and it was coated in a sheen of sweat. He couldn’t really find the words but this wouldn’t be good enough for you in the moment. You needed him to understand all of this was out of love, lust, and adoration for him so you made him beg.

“Kai speak up for me. All those moans are just a garbled mess and you know it.”

“Angel please...”

You smirked and worked your hand a bit faster than before, spitting on him again to keep the slick lubrication on his cock. “Beg harder for me handsome. Tell me you need this.”

“Please Angel, I can barely take anymore. I’m so close I’m-”

“Beg harder.”

“ANGEL PLEASE! I want to cum so badly, I’ll do anything!”

“Hmmmm, anything?”

“Yes, GOD YES!”

“Then admit it. Admit that your body is beautiful no matter what. Admit that you’re worthy of love from my, others, and most importantly yourself. And promise that you’ll stop being so hard on yourself. Do it Kai, if you wanna cum.”

“YES, I PROMISE...I’ll !!!” He gasped loudly and came without much of a warning, with you accidently getting caught in the crossfire. You pouted and he quickly looked away while trying to catch his breath. Slowly he fell to his knees on the ground in front of you and lowered his sweaty head to your shoulder. “Ugh, you make a mess of me every time...” He quietly gasped out between breaths. You wiped the cum from your face and pulled him into a tight hug. “Making a mess out of you is fun. I’m the only one that can do it, so I take a lot of pride in that.” You teased him lightly and he sighed. “Let’s go take a shower. This is disgusting you know.”

“Agreed.” You kissed his neck and joined him in the shower. After preparing for bed, you shot a text to Pops and the others letting them know that a matter of business came up last minute and that was why you and Kai couldn’t make it. After the little white lie, you cuddled up into bed beside him and he pulled you into his chest, placing his head on you so he could inhale your sweet scent from the body wash. “Y’know I meant everything I said back there, about loving yourself and how you were worthy of it. I just wanted you to know it wasn’t just the heat of the moment.” You spoke up after a long comfortable silence. You felt him kiss the top of your head as he began rubbing gentle and loving circles into your hip underneath the covers. “You treat me too well, Y/N. I love you, and I suppose I’ll make better attempts at your wishes. Now please go to bed.” You chuckled at his words and rolled to face him. His eyes were full of gentleness and appreciation for you. “Okay, mochi tummy.” You teased him with a smile and planted a gentle kiss on his lips before nuzzling into his neck and chest and falling asleep. “Pshhh, such an annoying nickname.” He lied before following shortly behind you to dreamland.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #overhaul #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #yakuza #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #smut

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arizona-trash-bag · 3 years

Note

I can totally explain a bit of my thinking behind seeing lwj as autistic and wwx as autistic/adhd!! Before I get into specifics though, let me preface with where I’m coming from. I first saw CQL and then read the EXR translation of the novel. I prefer MDZS to CQL, but also want to acknowledge that because I do not read/speak Mandarin I am inherently experiencing this story second-hand and therefore am probably missing out on a lot of nuances. I am trying to learn Mandarin, but it will be a long time before I am even a little close to fluent lol.

Another preface- obviously not all autistic people present in the same way, and many of the things that I will mention are not solely specific to autistic people either. It’s one of those things where all of it added up together points towards asd, but each one individually would not on its own indicate asd, you know? Also, I will say that many of the things I picked up on for both characters are autistic traits that many autistic people have vs the clinical characteristics (much like most of the case I could make for wwx’s adhd would be adhd traits he has rather than symptoms that would lead to a real-world diagnosis.) Edit: OH! I almost forgot to say, that also all of these traits I’m listing are from a western perspective, and I would LOVE to read more about how autism presents in different cultures and to see conversations between autistc Chinese people specifically, so as to see if these traits are specific to western autistic people or not, but again, I do not speak Mandarin or Cantonese or any other Chinese dialect, so that’s a little inaccessible for me atm.

Ok, SO, for both characters I would list: strong sense of justice, lack of care for society’s opinion (I feel like it could be argued that lwj does to a certain point, but imo he operates more from what he morally considers to be correct and from a place of familial duty vs catering to the opinion of society at large), and then more vaguely, they both seem to be “nerdy” (this doesnt feel like the most accurate term, especially because it's not like being scholarly is specific to their characters, especially in ancient fantasy China- it’s more that their particular hmmm, flavor?? of love of knowledge feels very neurodivergent to me, vs like, being scholarly because it’s the thing that is expected of a Young Master, if that makes any sense at all- like the difference btwn someone getting an engineering degree because it is expected of them vs because they genuinely love engineering), and lastly for both- I would say that they are canonically kinky, and while I can’t cite any statistics, there’s a pretty high correlation between being autistic and being into kink. Obviously, not every person who is not vanilla is autistic, and not every autistic person is into kink…….but there is a high correlation.

For lwj specifically, the things that made me think he might be autistic are his lack of outward emoting combined with his depth and breadth of emotions, how he seems to thrive in and quite enjoy the very structured environment he grew up in, and then the last one off the top of my head (side note, I feel like a week from now I’m going to randomly think of other examples lol) I’m not actually sure IS an example, because I know (thanks to the awesome post from hunxi that you linked to that I had read previously) that his succintness does not equal autism, but I do kind of feel like it is very autistic to Always be so formal and to Always talk in textbook perfect language.

For wwx, I also think he likely has CPTSD! I’m not going to list anything for adhd or cptsd since we both agree on those :) As far as being autistic goes, there is, of course, the high prevalence of adhd/asd comorbidity. For specifc traits- while autism can show up as lack of facial expressions/tone, it can also show up as being overly exuberant and overexpressive. Especially for younger autistic children this can show up as being overly friendly/no boundaries w/ strangers (just?? going home with a random man who says he knew wwx’s parents???), making unusual connections that others do not can be both asd and adhd, his disregard for social status (disregard might be a strong word, and also I feel like this might be one of those things that got lost in translation and if I had read the original text I might have a different opinon, but what I mean here is the way that often autistic people learn certain social rules and try their best to follow them, but often do not pick up on specifics related to social hierarchy that are not spelled out for them- I think jyl’s take down of jin zixun is a great example of the /oppossite/ of what I’m talking about, and is a very neurotypical interaction. An example also of what I mean by disregard for social hierarchy, but from my own life, is how I’ve reflected on past convos w/ my boss only to realize that what I thought was just an interesting conversation about our opinons on a particular subject was actually them trying to tell-me-as-my-boss something they wanted me to do. We ended up doing things the way I wanted to do them because I didn’t realize that they were telling me to do something because they didnt explicitly say so, and because I just don’t pick up on when people are saying something from a social hierarchy pov. Idk if this makes sense or not, so I’m happy to try to expand if you would like me to. I feel like wwx could be described as having alexithymia, which is very common in autistic people, but could also be due to his cptsd. And then, I don’t feel like this is a true point because it is kind of based on headcanon? but wwx feels very demisexual to me, which is much more common for autistic people than it is for allistic people. But him being demi is not canon, just my perception of him (I see him as demisexual gay w/ massive comphet, but I know lots of people see him as bi, which also totally makes sense!!)

Tbh, I’m having a harder time than I thought I would listing wwx specifics. I might go through the book sometime this weekend and see if there are specific moments that pop out at me, but tbh w/ him its more that he Feels very adhd/asd to me?? Idk, I was diagnosed w/ adhd when I was 8, and all 4 of my siblings plus my father have offical adhd diagnoses. I’m 29 now and was only diagnosed as autistic earlier this year. All of my close friends have always been either adhd, asd, or adhd/asd. There have been multiple people I have met that I’ve suspected were neurodivergent who have later told me they started looking into it and are now seeking formal diagnoses. I mention these things, only to give full context when I say that I have spent a lot of time observing the differences between interacting with neurotypicals and neurodivergents. I mean, obviously, it’s possible that I could just be projecting, but to me, Wwx gives off late-diagnosed/heavy masker autism/adhd combo vibes. Again, maybe I am projecting, but I did try to analyze whether I was or not previously, and determined that since in the past with other favorite characters (who I probably share more similarities in personality with) I did not feel like they were neurodivergent, so I figured that probably I wasn’t? That feels like a very convoluted sentence, but what I mean is that I have not thought that about other characters who have been my fav, so I figured that while I do project in certain areas that this particular area probably wasn’t one of them. Or, to say it in yet another way, since i did not project any of my neurodivergencies on past favorite characters, I figured I probably didn’t start doing so now.

I would love to hear more of your perspective on this, particularly because I worry that I do not have the cultural touchstones to realize when something wwx or lwj is doing is not actually a sign of being neurodivergent. I try my best to research things I don’t know about and to listen to fans who actually do have that cultural understanding, but there’s only so much I can look into on my own when I only speak/read english. And also, I love mdzs and I love talking about both adhd and autism, so I’m glad to talk about these subjects with someone else who also likes all of those topics :) Sorry for sending a book of a response and also I hope you are having a great day!!

wow wow wow anon THANK YOU for doing your research and acknowledging your blind spots you seriously made my day. I wanted to get to this as soon as I made that rant while sharing cyan’s post bc this is specifically an example of a well researched proposition based on actual lived experience and critical thinking.

I almost want to ask you to come forward so we can take this convo elsewhere for a more nuanced discussion bc you’ve already hit upon an issue that’s been holding me back from making a big blathering masterpost on the matter - that the ND experience is so unique and individual, and no one person can dictate someone else’s experience. at the end of the day, if you personally relate to these characters and gain more understanding of yourself and your experiences from them, who am I to take that away from you?

in a public space though I have to make the discussion very broad in order to accurately contextualize these issues, bc in typical autistic fashion I feel morally compelled to Do My Best and Get It Right even as the masses show no inclination of returning the favor, so apologies for the boring backstories I have to get out of the way before we can approach anything resembling new ground.

first from a diagnostic standpoint, while I recognize the traits you listed (and appreciate your clearly nuanced understanding of ND expressions) and would find value in exploring them in a personal context, they are not unique to adhd and/or autism and wouldn’t constitute a basis for diagnosis in a clinical setting. I know that's probably beside the point for this anon, but there's enough edgy teens hoarding labels out there without tacit encouragement from scientists (yes I am technically a scientist, even though my ideologies these days range from conventional to... wildly esoteric, shall we say)

from a cultural standpoint, it’s important for me to emphasize that the concept of neurodivergence is a uniquely western notion. for those unfamiliar, the term 'neurodiversity' was only coined in 1998. I was born in 1991. I existed for a whole 7 years as an autistic person before the idea of being neurodivergent was even a thing. this ND acceptance thing is very, very new - people were not making tiktok confessionals about their adhd diagnosis journeys when I was growing up.

china, like most asian countries, is about 20 years or more behind on just about every social issue compared with western countries. to better illustrate, the experience of being ND in china falls much closer to the conventional experience of disability (i.e. being eugenicized out of existence) than the tentative ND acceptance movement that’s been kickstarted in the past 20 years in the anglosphere.

safe to say, there is no ND coding going on in chinese media. characters are either explicitly ND or they're not. there's no basis for a creator subtly inducing ND-like traits in a character, because there's no such thing as ND awareness in the cultural context of where mdzs was written and consumed. any resemblance is purely accidental, as they say.

as to how this resemblance could exist - I could go into the layers and layers of historical, cultural, social and religious context that make up these characters and the xianxia genre as a whole. for this anon in particular i'm happy to, because they've done the work. please please get in touch in some way where we can have a fully fleshed out chat if you're interested in taking this further, I realize i’ve basically addressed none of the finer points you’ve raised but honestly it’s another level of discussion to be had that cannot be summarized in one blog post haha.

as for those who would scream 'but special interests!!' at a character whose sect was founded by a literal monk - what would be the point?

PS. to comprise a starting point for why it's possible to see ND4ND everywhere in media if you looked hard enough - I refer you to the seminal red oni blue oni trope 💁‍♀️

#neurodivergence #neurodiversity #actuallyautistic #autism #adhd #danmei #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian

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megumis-lashes · 4 years

Text

Love Bites

Vampire! Han Jisung x Reader Part 2

**Contains**: mentions of blood/blood drinking, parental abuse, bullying, fighting, slight swearing, emotional abuse, friends to lovers, werewolf Hyunjin, western high school standards, female reader

Flashback =

> Hello

Spending the weekend with Jisung was awkward to say the least. I knew it was in no way his fault. It was mine. I hadn’t had ‘friends’ in years and practically forgot how to act around other people. Thankfully his bubbly personality seemed to make up for everything I lacked. Following the weekend I knew I had to attend school. As much as I hated it, I knew that skipping would only spell more disaster for me in the future. I arrived to school with Jisung, looking somewhat put together despite my rough situation.

I never knew how knowing and interacting with certain people could gain. So. Much. Attention. I forgot just how popular Jisung really was. He wasn’t the most popular, but the majority of students could easily recognize him in a croud. Much to my dismay, people began to spread rumors about the situation. The biggest one was in regard to why I arrived with someone like him, or even talked to him for that matter. We had never talked outside of school before this. This reminded me of a similar situation. My parents being the way they are had signed me up for the school tutor program. Much to my dismay I had been assigned the school’s pretty boy, Hwang Hyunjin,as my student. Despite his constant attempts at becoming my friend, Hyunjin and I’s relationship was purely professional. I helped him out on school work and I would get more points for college. This didn’t stop the rumors though. Many jealous ‘fangirls’ spread rumors about us dating, which I didn’t appreciate. I would constantly get hate notes delivered to my locker.

I quickly dismissed Jisung and began my day. Today was pretty standard. I had two quizzes and some homework due, but nothing too bad. The only thing that scared me was what my lunch schedule held. Hyunjin had a huge unit test in chemistry today and he requested my help during lunch period. I hadn’t really given him an answer, but he said that if I showed up he could pay me. Right now I really needed the money so I was willing to accept a few more hate notes than usual. After my morning classes I showed up to lunch and sat by Hyunjin’s group of friends, surprising them in the process.

“Wow Hyunjin is this your girlfriend? I’ve seen you with her before.” One of the boys questioned. I think his name was Felix.

“No, no this is my tutor, name. She’s here to help me study for my chemistry unit test, I’m just surprised she showed up is all.” He chided as he rubbed his neck nervously. I could tell he was in no way ready for this test.

“Don’t worry the study session should be quick. I’ll make sure you’re prepared before the end of lunch. You should still have some time.” I explained as I shuffled through my backpack. I handed Hyunjin a small study guide I prepared for him.

“Here’s something I threw together. Read that over and tell me what you don’t understand. I’ll be over there when you’re done.” I smiled subtly as I walked over to the next table. Despite his popularity he was still a normal teenager.

As I had expected, helping Hyunjin during lunch drew some attention to me, especially from the ‘popular girls’ or whatever they like to be called. I never really minded their existence, but I could always feel their eyes burning into me whenever I hung around their ‘love interest’. Before lunch ended collected my payment from Hyunjin and went to use the restroom. I was fixing my hair in the mirror when those girls walked in.

“Oh if it isn’t name! That’s funny we were just looking to talk to you!” I sighed in annoyance. I was in no mood to talk with them for whatever reason. I never had many interactions with them, but they still managed to put me on edge. Their small group consisted of two juniors and one sophomore. Their leader ‘Mia’ was a relatively tall girl with long black hair who typically wore bright red lipstick. She was by far the worst out of them. Along with her was her close friend, Jiuen. She had bleach blond hair that she often styled in curls. The last girl was rather mysterious. I honestly couldn’t remember her name. She wasn’t one to stand out in a crowd and I don’t think she was a part of the group by choice. She had dark brown hair, styled in pig tails, and wore chunky blue glasses.

“Did you need something?” I sighed. I would have to leave for class soon.

“Ah yes!” Mia answered. “We’re here to make a deal with you!” I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

“What about?” I questioned

“So you see you’ve been hanging out with some popular people lately, and I guess you could say that I’m a bit jealous.” She giggled. “I hate to be that person but could you do me a favor and leave them alone? I need all the chances I can get in getting a boyfriend!” She explained.

I sighed. “Are you serious? If you’re talking about Hyunjin there’s nothing going on between us at all. Same with Jisung. We’re simply acquaintances who help each other out from time to time. I don’t see how it’s a problem.”

“Well I’m afraid that’s not convincing me. There’s no way I know anything about your relationships so you could be lying for all I know. I simply cannot trust your word on this!” She huffed. I rubbed my temples in annoyance.

“Look I swear I’m telling the truth. What would I even gain from lying? Plus there’s no way I can fully avoid Hyunjin as I am his assigned tutor.”

“Just request a change in students it’s not that difficult. I don’t see why you can’t just help me out this one time.” She groaned dramatically.

“Well what’s in it for me? You’re practically rewriting my life for your benefit only. I’m sorry but I’m not changing my entire schedule just so you can have a better ‘chance’!” I was getting sick of this conversation. I wanted to leave.

“Fine then you leave me no choice! I can easily destroy you.” She snickered.

“What do you mean?” She was making me anxious. She barely tried to convince me and she’s already pulling out her greatest asset?

“Well if you somehow managed to forget, I am the principals daughter. I could easily pull some strings. Maybe I could say you cheated! Yeah that’s a great idea! All the grades you worked so hard on would turn to dust! Then you’d be suspended for breaking school law! Oh and I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be so happy about that now would they?” She chuckled as she pulled out her phone.

“You can’t be serious Mia. This isn’t that deep.” I tried to stop myself from shaking.

“Oh I’m serious! It only takes a press of my finger to ruin you! If I send a report to my dad about you cheating, I know he’d believe me! You’re best option is to just agree to my conditions! There’s no way your parents would be happy with you being expelled!”

I was on the verge of tears. There was nothing I could do in this situation. She was right. There was no way I would be let of the hook for being expelled. This combined with all the stress I had been feeling in the past week led me closer and closer to breaking.

“Fine.” I stammered “You win. I won’t talk to either of them and I’ll ask to tutor someone else. Just please don’t mess with my grades. You know how much they mean to me.” I pleaded.

She giggled. “Finally you gave in! Alright then that’s a deal! I won’t ruin you, or at least not until later!” She exclaimed. I gritted my teeth, still trying to keep my composure.

“Come on girls let’s go!” She led the girls from the bathroom. Upon leaving she slammed into my shoulder, effectively pushing me into the wall. That hurt like hell.

“Haha so sorry! I must’ve not see you there!” She chuckled again and walked away with her group.

I cringed in pain as I felt the warm tears I had worked hard to withhold cascade down my cheeks. Wasn’t this an eventful week.

For the rest of the day I made it my duty to avoid the two boys at all costs. I could in no way afford that level of failure going on my record. I would be doomed for all eternity. Avoiding them wasn’t too difficult during classes. I was in much higher classes than Hyunjin and only shared a few classes with Jisung. Thankfully I had all my shared classes in the morning. At the end of the school day, I requested a new student to tutor. I claimed our timing didn’t work out and left a small note to Hyunjin explaining it was for personal reasons. I continued through my day as unaffected as I possibly could act. I attended volleyball practice until 6, then took a different route back to Jisung’s house in hopes of avoiding him completely. I managed to sneak in through his back door (AN: no pun intended) since he had given me a key. I only saw him once that night for a brief moment. He questioned why he didn’t see me and I explained that I had volleyball and homework to do. I also warned him that he probably wouldn’t see me much after school so that he wouldn’t worry. The next morning I left before he woke up.

Over the course of the next few weeks I was successful in avoiding both Hyunjin and Jisung. Jisung did seem a little suspicious of seeing me extremely rarely, but he didn’t push his questions since I helped with chores and even payed him a portion of the money Hyunjin had given me. Hyunjin on the other hand was extremely bothered over my sudden change in schedule. He would constantly try to approach me at lunch or during class and as much as it pained me, I would force myself to ignore him or walk away giving him some dumb excuse. I knew he didn’t believe anything I said. The most persistent thing he did was leave me letters. I read the letters but I never replied. He would often describe his day and somehow always end up on the topic of tutoring. He explained how he was assigned a new tutor, except it was a girl that was a year under him. Despite how advanced she was in classes, she knew little of the junior material and was even more confused than Hyunjin. With his constant begging for me to come back I constantly felt terrible about my decision. As much as I appreciated his efforts at keeping in contact with me, there was one small issue. He. Was. Extremely. Obvious. Practically the entire school knew he left envelopes in my locker, many of them believed the notes to be love letters.

Today was no different. I was returning to my locker at the end of the school day only to find another note. Upon first look it was easy to understand why people thought the notes to be out of love. Hyunjin wasn’t exactly great at portraying his emotions and could be rather dense at times. He used a baby pink envelope and decorative stationary that I could only assume belonged to a female in his family. In today’s note he described how desperate he was to have me as a tutor again. His current tutor recently passed out from what Hyunjin had described as ‘confusion’ and had been too embarrassed to show up to tutor sessions the past couple sessions. When Hyunjin attempted to ask for a new tutor, the teachers refused as he had changed tutors once that month already. I chuckled. I could tell he was panicking while he wrote the letter. His messy handwriting was a stark contrast to the beautiful card. He could be dense at times but I knew he was a smart kid, he could manage without me for a while. What I failed to notice at the time were the burning stares drilling into my back.

“Hi name! It’s a nice day today isn’t it! You wouldn’t mind going on a small walk with us would you?” My small smile quickly faded. That voice, I could recognize it anywhere. It was Mia and by the overly ‘happy’ tone of her voice I could tell she wasn’t too happy with me. As much as my gut pleaded me not to follow her I couldn’t risk anything.

“Sure.” I murmured. I quickly finished packing my backpack and shut my locker, following the three girls. The girls stopped at a small shady spot at the back of the school. They weren’t lying it was nice out. It was a clear fall day, the sun shining beautifully in the sky. Despite all this I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy it. I was scared shitless of what they were going to say. Mia quickly faced me.

“So what do you have to say for yourself? Liar.” I creased my brows in confusion.

“What do you mean? I haven’t broken our agreement?” I really hoped they withheld their part of the deal.

“Well name you aren’t very subtle. I thought with how smart you are you would know better!” She scoffed.

“I’m still confused as to what to what you mean?” I was seriously starting to panic at this point.

“Just give up already. You don’t have to play dumb for me anymore. I know you broke our agreement. Your little relationship with Hyunjin is pretty obvious if you ask me. Sure you may have stopped tutoring him but I see how he leaves letters for you. You read every single one and you even chuckled while reading today’s ‘love letter’. You’re not a sly as you think!” She exclaimed. I knew she was mad now.

“No, no, no you’ve got it all wrong! I’m in no secret relationship with Hyunjin and I never reply to his letters! He’s just struggling in class and wants me to tutor him again but I’ve told him I can’t-“ Time seemed to freeze at that moment. What woke me from my trance was a sharp pain to my left cheek.

She slapped me.

I was frozen out of pure shock. As I blinked out of it I could feel warm drops of blood stream from a small cut on my check. I definitely didn’t expect her to get physical.

“That’s what you deserve you deserve you bitch! How dare you! I went easy on you! I made an agreement and you just had to ruin everything! That’s it! Two can play at this little game of yours! By Friday I’ll make sure to ruin you and make sure the whole school hears your embarrassing little sob story as well!” She screamed as I collapsed to the ground. My shaking legs had finally given out a look of shock still painted on my face. She began to walk away. I stumbled forwards towards her.

“Wait! No! No! No! You can’t do this to me! What did I ever do to you! I never did anything-“ She cut me off by yanking my hair. I sobbed out of fear and despair.

“Shut up. YOU ruined my chances. YOU broke the deal! Think of this as ALL. YOUR. FAULT!” She finished her argument by slamming her hand bag in my face. I cringed in pain as the metal clasps made contact with my skin. That was sure to bruise later. Following their leaders departure, Jiuen walked over to my slumped form. She shuffled in her bag and pulled out a small carton of milk. She quickly tore open the carton and dumped it over my head. I sobbed and coughed in disgust. The third girl did absolutely nothing besides stand there and look down at me in pity. She quickly ran after the other girls.

“Why me?”

I sat there for what felt like hours but was probably along the lines of 15 minutes. I felt disgusting to say the least. I had never wanted to shower this much in my life. I took of my bag, thankful it was still clean, and began to dig around. I quickly found an old gym shirt and used that to somewhat clean my face.

The walk home was humiliating. I could feel the stares of students and teachers alike burn into my back. I kept my head low. The walk itself felt like torture. I was exhausted, both mentally, emotionally and physically. I was also still in pain. I could feel blood ooze from the cuts on my face and the bruises begin to form. I’d probably have to buy some concealer to hide the bruising. Upon arriving to the house I quickly stumbled inside. Once I reached the living room I realized my mistake. Jisung was home and was staring right at me.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He questioned almost flying off the sofa. He must’ve been playing games before my arrival.

“Oh, uhh nothing really. I just uhh... tripped is all. Don’t worry I’ll go take care of it.” I knew it was probably the worst excuse of the decade but I really didn’t have the energy to make a better one.

“Bullshit! You have bruises and scratches almost exclusively on your face! Plus I can tell you’ve been avoiding me!” He exclaimed as he approached me “Name you don’t have to act strong all the time. I can tell you’re not ok. Please tell me what happened... if you can.”

It didn’t take another word from Jisung for me to breakdown in a mess of tears. It was about time. The amount of stress I had been experiencing was extremely unhealthy. Combined with the fact that I wasn’t allowed to express emotions at home, the pressure was too much.

“I-I got into a f-fight.” I sobbed. “I really don’t know what I did wrong! They had to blackm-mail me for what? Having friends?” I buried my head in my hands. I was broken. “They got mad at me for being by you and Hyunjin! They, they threatened to ruin me! All my hard work! My hours of unhealthy studies! All to make my parents happy! But they just had to destroy it all out of spite!” I coughed as I felt the salty tears slip onto my lips. My sobs were cut off when I felt strong arms wrap around my middle.Jisung had hugged me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had given me a hug. As happy as I should of been, the physical contact simply made me sob harder.

“Slow down, slow down! I know you’re upset and I’m here for you! Just go at your own pace. I’m not gonna go anywhere until you’re done.” He patted my back. I tried to calm my breathing and began to explain. Explain everything, from when I had been kicked out to when the girls had first blackmailed me to when they attacked me for Hyunjin’s notes. It was exhausting to just remember those events. Then I explained everything about my parents. How difficult they were. Nothing mattered besides numbers and results.

“They could care less about my existence as a person, or their daughter. “ I explained. We were now seated on his large sofa, his hand holding mine out of comfort. The whole time I explained my situation I could tell he was listening. He started at me attentively with a kind look in his eyes.

“I never knew we were so similar.” He chuckled as he scratched his neck.

“What do you mean.” I questioned, drying the tears from my face.

“The whole parent thing I mean. My parents are incredibly hard on me as well. I’m the next in blood line per say, and because of my familial ranking I take an important family position once my parents die. They aren’t necessarily that focused on grades like your parents are but they care a lot about field performance. That doesn’t mean I can slack in school though.” He sighed. “Other than that they barely pay any attention to me. They let me figure out everything on my own. By the age of 12 I practically lived alone. I’ve been an adult for almost the entirety of what should’ve been my childhood.” He sighed. “Anyway thank you for explaining it to me I know it’s been difficult for you. As much as you dislike them, let’s make a deal.”

“About what?” I blinked myself awake. I was starting to get really tired.

“No more secrets. Don’t keep this sorta stuff to yourself from now on ok? It does more harm than good. I’m always here to listen!” He smiled. I could feel my checks warm at his smile. It was cute.

“Alright then.” I smiled bashfully. “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!” He confirmed, quickly wrapping his pinky around mine.

“Now I hate to be rude but you should really take a shower.” He scratched his neck as he chuckled.

“Hey! I went through a lot today!” I chided

“I know, I know. How about you go shower and then we can watch a movie! Maybe it’ll help you feel better!”

“Actually... that sounds really nice. But what about my homework? And my grades?” I completely forgot that school existed.

“Ahh don’t worry about it! I’ll do your homework for you when you shower! I already did mine so it’s fine! About your grades, just leave it to me! I’ll talk to them tomorrow ok!” He exclaimed.

“Are you sure?” I questioned. I’d feel guilty if he did all that for me.

“I’m sure! Now go!”

I started to walk to my room to go shower when I stopped.

“Hey Jisung?”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Thank you.”

I smiled. My first true smile in a while.

#skz #skz fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #straykids x reader #straykids #han jisung x reader #han x reader #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #writers

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dibidibifiction · 3 years

Text

A Hundred-dollar Bill: PART 1

Warning: foul language Word count: 1.5k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist

“Mmm, Y/n, these are delicious!” Kibum exclaims as he takes one more full bite of my homemade triple chocolate cookies.

“Hand me one!” Taemin says, concentrating on the television screen where he and Minho are playing PS4.

“I'm really glad you like it. I’ve always loved baking,” I say to Kibum while joining him on Minho’s bed, ignoring Taemin. “This is actually my first time baking again ever since after my mom passed long ago. If you want I could—”

“Yeah!” Minho roars in the middle of his basement bedroom, making me jump. “I won, motherfucker!”

“I guess you're happy now?” Taemin mocks him while throwing the controller on the couch. Minho doesn’t ever let it go every time he loses a game. He would force his opponent to play more of FIFA 18 with him until he finally wins.

Minho continues to yell victoriously while he runs around the room with both of his hands in the air like an Olympic champion. He proceeds to Kibum and I on the bed. He jumps, and lands on us belly first.

“Ah!” I shriek in cramping pain, his boney hips hitting my thigh. “What the hell!”

Kibum, who doesn’t even look up from his phone, scrunches his forehead in irritation. “Hey, get off!”

While Minho annoys us even more by moving all his limbs like he’s swimming, together with his contagious high-pitched laugh, an idea comes to mind. With all the strength I have, I heavily climb on top of him, sitting on his butt to pin him down. I avenge, starting to poke and scratch his sides up and down.

“Shit, no!” Now laughing even louder because of the tickling, he suddenly draws his whole heavy body to roll to the side, making me crash onto Kibum’s shin. Now he’s the one pinning me down. Before I know it, Taemin jumps in and starts tickling me with his fingers, switching back and forth my neck and my stomach. It’s like they planned to destroy me.

“What did I ever do to you, Taemin!” I scream at him breathlessly, shaking my whole body in a struggle to escape the boys’ strong grasp.

“Hey! Would you guys stop that?” Kibum, the one who bitches the most, shakes up from the bed and transfers to the sofa where the other two boys were playing video games. “Why am I even friends with you?” he complains, taking another one of my cookies from their box on the side table.

Minho and Taemin stop what they’re doing. Breathless but are still laughing at me.

I’m finally free, exhausted from their physical bullying. I look like I’ve just had rough sex and got all fucked up in bed. “He’s right. Why am I even friends with you?” I sulk. I am sick of always being the weakest target. I blow my messed up hair away from my face as I get up and follow Kibum to the couch. I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. “Kibum, save me.”

“That’s on you, babe. That’s what you get from bringing us all together in the first place,” he says, as sassy as ever.

Oh, right. I did introduce them to one another. I met them all separately. In different places and different times, but all in the same year. Two years ago.

I first encountered Kibum on Instagram. I followed him and commented on his IGTV about easy outfit hacks. It’s from him where I learned how to cut my jeans stylishly when they’re too long, or turn old clothes into good-as-new ones. He is brilliant. I even sent him a private message to tell him that, and we ended up hitting it on.

A few days after that, I ran into him on the streets of the city. I’m genuinely surprised that he recognized me, chatted me up and practically forced me to have lunch with him. He fell comfortable with me that same day and blurted out all his frustrations about being stuck in life. He had been wanting to go to fashion school but money was too tight and the influencing career wasn’t really working. I was weirded out at first since I’m not really good at making friends. But this guy appreciated me instantly just because of my comment on his post. I don’t get that a lot. He said that I was only one of the few who constantly followed him and actually cared. Plus, I was the only one who's close by.

He’s been doing Instagram for years but his audience had grown too slowly, which I didn’t understand. Kibum’s work was absolutely impressive and effective.

We had been having dinner at the same café, where we had lunch for the first time, almost every evening since then. We just connected.

Taemin used to be a famous pop singer but his career fucked up because of rumors gone wrong about him using drugs to appear happy and funny in reality shows.

It was a late night, just around two months after I met Kibum, a man with bleach blond hair in a dark hoodie bumped into me for running from men with huge cameras. In my attempt to help out, I ran after him and pulled him up into an alley where he’d be hardly seen. However, my plan failed and he started to panic. When the paparazzi was gaining on us, I started panicking as well. So without extra thinking, I pushed him onto the wall and made out with him. That way, they’d be too uncomfortable to even look and just puzzledly proceed to different directions.

Taemin stayed on my couch that same night and disappeared the next morning. On my way home from work a few days later, he randomly approached me to borrow money for some errands—which I did lend him—and offered to pay triple. I immediately and strongly declined that payment. Instead, I asked him to have dinner with me and Kibum at the café.

We, including Taemin himself, expected that he’d just eat with us only for a few days, but he figured it was a safe place where almost no one crazy could recognize him and chase after him, especially when he dyed his hair back to its natural color.

Since then, I’ve got two best friends by my side.

Minho is the son of my boss—well, former boss—who is the CEO of the company I worked for, which he’d soon inherit. He hated the company. Hell, he hated his father. So did I, which is why I quit just recently.

Minho and I bonded over cigarette breaks every four P.M., right before my work hours ended. I’d then head to the café to meet up with Kibum and Taemin.

One afternoon, he just invited himself to join us since he claimed that he had nowhere else to go.

Just then, our little group stopped growing in numbers and started growing something tight and unbreakable. We would learn about each other’s hardships and be there for one another. We would celebrate every little achievement. The bond that we had was just very natural and unexpected. Some of us had fights but they were never too serious and we would realize that our friendship is always bigger than anything. We are the broken pieces that are mended together by one another.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” I announce to no one in particular after a moment of silence.

“I hope it’s not another sketchy party like last time,” Kibum grumbles. He is laying on the sofa, using my lap as his pillow.

“I heard the family I used to babysit for is going away for the weekend. What do you guys say?”

I sigh when nobody says anything. “They have a pool. So…” I trail off, waiting for somebody to be excited as I am.

“There’s no way I’m breaking and entering someone else’s house,” Minho blurts out.

“We’re not breaking anything, we’re just entering,” I shrug.

“Yeah, Hyung. Stop being a wuss,” Taemin pats Minho’s back once. “I’m in! There’s no reputation to ruin anyway,” he shrugs as he walks towards the couch and sits under Kibum’s feet, taking my side.

I turn to Kibum, who is biting dead skin off his nails, pretending not to hear us. “Fine!” he rolls his eyes as he sits up. “I’m in too. Just for one night, right? We’re not staying there the entire weekend. My life is fucked up enough. I’m not going to jail.”

“Yes!” Taemin and I high five. We three then look to Minho. We are not taking no for an answer.

“Oh, what the hell,” he gives in. I love that he doesn't need much convincing. He stands up, and runs towards us. Once again, he flops his wings, jumps, and touches down on all three of us.

There was loud laughter, which I always love experiencing with these people. Next thing I know is we are group hugging.

“So, when do we go?” Minho asks when he pulls away.

I smile cockily. “Tonight.”

PART 2

#shinee #shinee fanfic #taemin fanfic #SHINee fanfiction #taemin x reader

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theokotrain · 3 years

Text

Vestige - Interlude: The Party

Wattpad Version

As the night fills the sky

All my fears are dissipating

'Cause I feel reassured

That I might make it through

And if all my luck should burn

Then I guess it burned for you

---

April 13th, 2012

I was sitting on my bed, back against the bed frame with my knees raised in front of me, holding up my laptop. I had been spending the last few hours writing an essay for my English class, specifically answering the topic question my teacher had given everybody: "How do our past experiences influence our decisions?". The question was simple enough, it's a pretty universally recognized idea that stuff that happens to us has an effect on our decision making. I mean, that's what it means to grow, right? You gain more knowledge as you live through life and form new memories, and that helps you make more informed decisions in the future.

I've never really been too good at writing anything analytical, especially non-fiction. Essays and research papers that required informed arguments that helped to prove your point? Those were an entirely unknown game to me, one which I had never managed to breeze through. Of course, we were supposed to use some of the books we've read this year as evidence for our arguments, so that at least made it a bit easier, even if most of the books were ones from nearly five decades ago and definitely out of touch at this point. The sound of my laptop's keys clicking as I typed away were the only sounds I could pick up in the room. I had my earphones in for a bit, but those always hurt my ears after a while, so I had taken them out.

Looking at the time in the corner of my laptop screen, it was 4:43 PM. I started writing as soon as I got home from class, so I've only been going for about an hour. Unfortunately, this essay is a non-insignificant amount of my course grade, so I needed to finish this as soon as possible.

God, it's a Friday! I could be out doing something actually fun with Shae and the other guys. Isn't that the whole point of high school? That's what it always seemed like in movies, at least, but I guess I've been a victim of false advertising.

After a bit more time passes, the sound of my phone ringing from my desk brings me out of my writing trance. I sigh, setting my laptop next to me on the bed, not wanting to get out of bed, but eventually forcing myself into maneuvering over to the desk, I grab the phone and flip it open, looking to see the Caller ID.

Shaela.

I instantly accept the call, it's almost second nature at this point. She calls me at least once a day so she can tell me about whatever person is pissing her off that day, or whatever drama she's heard from her other friends. I was never really one for gossip, or whatever, but I did appreciate talking to her.

I put the phone up to my ear, "What's up?" I say, a tinge of fatigue in my voice.

"Hey! Just warning you that I'm like five minutes from your place and you don't have a say in the matter." She replied bluntly. I can hear the sound of cars driving by on the other side of the phone, so she's obviously outside, confirming her words.

I take a deep breath before speaking, "...Why?" I said with exasperated sarcasm.

"Because! I have something to tell you, and if I say it over the phone then I seriously doubt it'll work out in the way I'm hoping it does."

"That clears up nothing, actually, and now I regret picking up."

"Even if you didn't answer, that doesn't stop your parents from letting their son's lovely goody-two-shoes of a friend stop by for a visit!" She exclaimed, a mischievous tone subtly layered in her voice.

She's not wrong.

"Wow, you make this sound like you're sneaking into a high-security building or something." I say, utterly confused at her motives. "Obviously you can come over, but I'm not exactly filled with confidence at whatever you're planning."

"Like I said, I can't tell you yet, but it's gonna be awesome!" She said. There was an unusual perkiness to her that made itself pretty clear over the phone.

Before I can say anything, I'm met with the dial tone, signalling that she had hung up. The only thing I can do at this point is wait for her to get here, I guess. She always lets herself in when she comes over, so I don't make the effort to meet her downstairs. A sudden ping sound fills the quiet room, seeming to come from my laptop. I get back into bed, looking to see where the notification came from.

It's a message from Tyler.

He's definitely the newest member of our little group, if even that. I'm the only person in the group that he's actually friends with so far, despite my efforts to bring him along on any plans we all make. I only met the Grey Wolf back in February, at the beginning of the second semester, in the school's photography class. Nobody I knew signed up for it, and due to our prestigious high school's advanced budget for technology, we were forced to be paired up for shared computer use in the Photography Room. I suppose Tyler was also fortunate enough to not know anybody in the class, as we ended up being paired together by the teacher. He was definitely someone I could only describe as uninterested, as the first week or two I spent with him in that class consisted of him either giving me one word answers or answering in the most blunt, bored tone he could manage. Though, it seemed that it took a bit of persistence on my part to push him to be more open, and since then he's grown to be a pretty great friend.

Tyler: u goin to that party tonight ive been hearin about?

Party? I wasn't made aware of anything like that, at least... not yet. Something in the back of my brain was telling me that Shae had ulterior motives about coming to my place so suddenly, but I'm still hoping that I'm wrong. I hate parties.

Jake: party? havent heard anything, are u going?

Tyler: thinkin about it

think its gonna be over at chris's place, guess his parents r gone for the weekend or somethin

Jake: chrisssss? ughh that guy is such an asshole

Tyler: yeah u dont havee to go, but itd prob be more fun to have someone u actually know there

The way he worded that was directed at me, but I could tell he didn't want to go on his own.

Jake: i guess ill think about it

Tyler: sickk, call me if u make up ur mind

Before I can type my farewells over IM, Shaela energetically bursts through the door.

"Jesus! You scared the shit outta me, don't you knock?" I said, mildly exasperated.

"Oh come on, I literally called you a few minutes ago, you had plenty of time to not make a situation where it'd be a bad idea for me to barge in," She replies, laughing, before setting her bag on the ground and dramatically falling into my bed. "Today was garbage."

"What happened?"

"Ugh, Claire decided to just not show up, I guess, on the day we're supposed to present that stupid History project? And, obviously, she didn't give me her part of the project or anything, so I had tell Mr Thomas about the situation, which was fucking embarrassing." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Luckily, he said he wouldn't reduce my grade for handing it in late, since I actually had my part finished. God, what a bitch- I must've called her like thirty times before class to get her to email me her part, and every time it went straight to voicemail - and she told me last night that she'd have it ready for today!"

"Have you gotten a hold of her yet?" I asked, closing my laptop and setting it beside me.

Shae turns her head to me, shaking her head, "Nope, she's been ghosting me all day."

"Sounds like typical Claire."

"Yeah, I shouldn't have partnered with her, but apparently I can't say no to anyone, so..." I chuckle lightly in response. "Anyways! I didn't just come here to complain to you!" She says, sitting up on the bed, now facing towards me.

"Right... So what was so important that you just had to tell me in person?" I say, sarcastically.

"Like I said, if I asked you over the phone you would've definitely said no, and my ability to pressure you into doing things isn't as effective unless it's in person!" She responded.

I subtly rolled my eyes, but it's clear she noticed from the stare-down she gave me, "Okay, so what is it?"

"Soooooo..." She says, trying to find the rest of the words, "There's a party."

Wow.

"Wh- did everybody know about that party except for me?!?" I exclaimed.

Shaela's face quickly turns to an expression of shock, "Who told you?"

"Tyler did, like, not even five minutes ago." I say, bluntly.

"What? How does he know Chris?"

"Friend-of-a-friend, I'm guessing?"

"Hmm..." She hummed, thinking about something, "So, did you tell him you were going?"

"I specifically said I'd think about it, nothing definite." I made it clear in my tone that I wasn't particularly interested.

"Oh, come on, dude! It'll be fun!"

I didn't really have an interest in going, but I know it'd make Shae happy, plus it'd be nice to hang out with Tyler again even if we've only known each other for a couple months.

"...Fine. But, if Chris or any of his buddies start shit, I'm leaving."

"Awesome!"

"Lemme just call Tyler and let him know," I said as I grabbed my phone and flipped it open, finding Tyler in my contact list and dialling.

"You gonna bring him with-" The phone rings a few times before he picks up and I extend my hand out towards Shae in a shushing motion. She rolls her eyes, smirking.

"Hey? So are ya gonna go?" He said eagerly.

"Well, Shae showed up at my door literally right after you messaged me, asking the same thing!" I exclaimed in a fake-preppy voice. "So, I guess I have no choice since she'll probably just drag me there if I say no," I joked. She nods her head toward me in response.

"Oh, is she going too?" He inquired.

"Yeah, I guess so! Your place is kinda on the way to Chris', so we could probably meet you at your place and go from there."

"Yeah! Sounds good!" He quickly responded.

I laughed, "Okay, we'll call you when we get there?"

"Sure thing!"

We exchanged our farewells, and hung up. The party wasn't for at least another hour or two, so Shae and I had some time to burn, of which I was entirely out of ideas. I figured I could at least spend this time actually being productive, so I grabbed my laptop and continued on writing my English essay as Shae resumed her previous conversation topic of stuff at school that was pissing her off. It was pretty entertaining, to be fair. She was telling me about how Chris had gotten in a fight with this other kid in our grade yesterday after class, which I wasn't lucky enough to witness, but it was obviously all anyone would talk about for basically the entire day today so word spread around fast. The part I hadn't heard about was that both Chris and the other guy, Nathan, got suspended for a week because of it. Chris was generally an asshole to everybody, including myself, so I didn't feel too bad about that. Although, I didn't know Nathan all that well. Other than having a few classes together, I don't think I've ever held an actual conversation with the guy. I think it was safe to assume that Chris was the one who started it, and Shae seemed to agree with me, even though she hadn't seen the fight either.

"But, apparently Nathan's gonna show up tonight!" She exclaimed coyly.

"...Remind me again why you want me to go to this specific party?"

"You'll have a great time! It's not like we'll be involved in the drama anyway so think of it more as entertainment!"

"I think you and I have different definitions of the word 'entertainment'," I joked.

"I'm sure you can go run off somewhere with Tyler if you're not having fun," She said, her tone reminding me of my mom.

"Oh yeah? What about you?"

"I can't just leave Alex at a party with Chris, those two start shit between each other so much and I'd rather not deal with the aftermath of that today."

"I'm guessing it's safe to assume that Elliot's going too, then?"

"He's not big on parties, but he'll usually go if everyone else is, unlike somebody," She says, gesturing towards me.

"Good one," I reply, unmoving as I keep typing away at my assignment.

"Well, we should probably leave soon since we're stopping at Tyler's place on the way.

I saved the document I had been working on, closing my laptop. "Sounds good to me!"

---

"I can't believe you actually agreed to go." Tyler joked as we walked towards the road from his house.

"Yeah, me either." I replied. I definitely didn't put in any effort in dressing up for the party, opting for a snug space-themed graphic tee, along with black jeans and a white zip-up hoodie. Shae and Tyler both stand on opposite sides of me as we walk down the sidewalk.

"Luckily I learned the subtle techniques in convincing you to do things against your better judgement, so now you get to have fun for once!" Shae exclaimed.

"It's not my fault that going to a party is literally the last thing on earth I'd do for fun in any normal situation." I retorted, putting my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

"Oh yeah? And what do you consider a 'normal situation'?" Shae asks.

"Any situation where you guys aren't the ones trying to get me to go! I'm only doing this for you two, y'know." I said, looking over at both of them.

"What about Elliot and Alex?" Tyler chimed in.

"They aren't the ones asking me to go to this party." I sarcastically remarked, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted. "Speaking of the party- this is Chris we're talking about, there's gonna be beer, right?"

"Uh, duh?" Shae replied.

"Yeah, that's a definite no for me, I'm already enough of a disappointment to my parents,"

"No one's making you drink, Jake. At least you'd be safe if some old hag called the cops about the noise." Shae said.

"I think at that point we're guilty by association, so we'd just make a run for it if that happens," Tyler joked.

"Dude, the chance of me outrunning a police officer successfully is about as likely as me not wanting to punch Chris tonight."

"And the chance of you winning that fight is just as low!" Shae retorted, Tyler laughing in response.

"I specifically said 'want' because of that very reason!"

"Wow, I'd pay money to see you fight that guy." Tyler said, nudging his elbow into my side.

It isn't a secret that I'm not exactly athletic. I mean, I'm definitely not weak, but fighting basically any animal of a similar size to mine was not a situation that favoured my victory.

"That sounds more like just getting the shit kicked outta me for your entertainment." I remarked, lightly punching Tyler's shoulder in return.

"Absolutely worth every penny!" Shae exclaimed. Luckily, the place wasn't any more than ten minutes away from Tyler's place, so I didn't have to endure listening to these two talk about me getting beat up for much longer.

We finally make it to Chris' house, and I'm suddenly filled with an impending sense of regret. Obviously, my parents would never in a million years agree to me going to a party like this. As far as they know, I'm just spending the evening hanging out with Shae at Tyler's house. So yeah, this entire night had a lot of potential for disaster.

Shae can clearly see my hesitation, because she grabs my hand, leading me up the walkway, Tyler following closely behind.

"I wonder if Elliot and Alex beat us here?" She says, knocking on the front door.

"I doubt they had anything to do earlier, hell they probably came straight here after school, knowing Alex." I said, laughing.

Our conversation is cut short by the opening door, revealing the familiar black cat.

"Oh, look, the Stephenson kid brought his girlfriend!" Chris exclaimed mockingly, looking back into the house, before peering around my shoulder, "And... Tyler?" He said, inquisitively.

I lean over, blocking Tyler from his line of sight, "Yeah, hey, not dating by the way!" I said. I've known Shae since I first moved to Vestige, around the time I turned five years old, so it wasn't uncommon for rumours to go around that we were dating. I've always thought of her more as a sister, if anything.

"I asked them to come!" Tyler said. That was only partly true, but according to Tyler, they've been 'somewhat-friends' for quite a while now, so saying that would at least mean less mild-harassment from Chris for tonight.

"Oh, uh, okay... come on in! But you're on the hook for any shit they pull, Tyler!" He said, opening the door wider.

---

The party had been going on for a few hours at this point. I could recognize most of the animals here from school, but not enough to actually hold a conversation with any of them, so most of my time here had just been spent with Shae and Tyler. The place hasn't been incredibly crowded luckily, but there were easily about forty others in this part of the house alone. I'm assuming only high school grades were invited, but there were a considerable number of students to meet that requirement. The issue at hand for me, other than how crowded this place is, is that both Shae and Tyler ditched me to go... somewhere? I think Shae saw some of her friends and went somewhere with them, but Tyler was pretty secretive about where he was going, only telling me that he'd be back in a bit. So I've been standing here in this random corner of the house with a drink in hand, trying to make myself look busy and not awkward, which is exactly why I didn't want to go to this party in the first place!

"Jake!" A voice shouted from a ways away.

I turn my head in confusion, revealing Alex, walking towards me from across the room.

"Oh, Alex! Hey! What's up dude!" I finish the last bit of my soda, waving at him. Because this was Chris' party, there was obviously beer too, but I didn't feel like coming home drunk and my parents finding out.

"I didn't think you'd wanna come to something like this! Feeling the regret yet?"

"I like parties! It's the times like these when I'm standing in a corner by myself with nothing to do that I hate, which seems to happen every time I go to a party!" I exclaimed, pausing for a moment. "Okay, maybe I do hate parties- I've had to explain this so many times today I'm about ready to jump into Lake Ambuscade."

' "Wow, sounds like somebody needs to socialize instead of stewing in a corner for the rest of the night!"

"Socialize? Really? I know just about everybody here and just about none of them are worth talking-"

"Hang with me and Elliot, then? Justin set up some racing games in the other room, we were gonna join, but we could use a fourth... You in?" He said, his tone obviously trying to sound coercing.

"God, please, anything to get me out of this corner for the next three hours." I said, Alex returning my words with a laugh.

"Well, come on then! We'll have to hurry if we want to get one of the good controllers!" He exclaimed, motioning to follow him.

As we move through the various cliques, I recognize a few faces here and there, though not enough to actually want to talk to them. There's been music playing since we got here, and I have yet to recognize a single song, they all seem to be some form of drone-y bass-heavy music that I can't say I've heard in any normal situations. I'm doing my best to follow Alex, although he keeps weaving between the other animals faster than I can keep up, resulting in me having to shove past everyone near me in an effort to speed myself up. Luckily, it seems that no one notices me anyway.

When we arrive in the other room, it seems to just be another living room, but decorated with a galore of punk band posters, shelves holding more DVD cases than I would ever care to count, and even a mini-fridge. Maybe Chris is the type to have a 'man cave' or something? Just hearing that phrase almost makes me want to vomit, but there aren't any more accurate words that come to mind. The room isn't massive or anything, but the TV resting upon the wall across the room seems to challenge that idea, looking almost eighty inches in size. Luckily no randoms from the party were in here, sitting about ten feet away from the TV is Elliot, leaning back in a purple bean bag chair that seems almost three times bigger than him, and Justin, the cougar I'd only known slightly through Alex, laying down sideways on the couch directly in front of the gigantic screen.

"Whatttt! You took the bean bag chair? Lameee..." Alex whined.

"You're the one who wanted to go get Jake, you snooze you lose!" Elliot retorted, looking oddly proud of himself.

"Damn, wish I had a room like this at my house..." I mumbled, looking around the room.

"Are we gonna play or what?" Justin said, cutting through the momentary silence.

"Duh!" Alex claimed.

Justin sits up, taking the spot on the couch closest to Elliot. I opt for the leftmost seat, and Alex sits in-between the both of us. Elliot grabs the other three controllers and tosses them over at us, one by one. Luckily, there weren't any garbage third-party controllers, so at least none of us would have to deal with that. I will admit, it did feel kinda weird going to someone's party just to play games away from everybody, but I would be lying if I said I didn't prefer that, even though I rarely play games, if ever.

After Justin turns the console on, he goes through the menus, launching the game. I can't say I recognize the title, but it seems to be a pretty standard racing game. He goes into the custom mode, opting for a four-player split-screen match, choosing 'R1' as the category of cars to race in. As everyone chooses their cars, I scroll through the list, not really knowing what to pick. I've never been good with car stuff, so I pick an 'Aston Martin Lola' just based on the number-rating system the game ranks the cars with.

"You guys ready?" Justin asks.

"Oh yeah, get ready to eat my dust you guys!" Elliot exclaims, challengingly.

"Oddly prideful words for someone about to lose!" Alex replies, laughing.

The countdown begins, as the cameras slowly show the view of each car as it moves to the rear. When it starts, I somehow manage the fuckup of spinning my tires out, leaving me a few seconds behind the others as the car swerves back and forth. I curse under my breath as I try to regain control of the car, and swiftly pick up speed. The track seems like nothing I haven't seen before, a typical professional track, with rows and rows of audience seating to the side. Unfortunately, I'm now in last place. The next few moments of the track are a few quick corners, allowing me the chance to catch up, at least a little.

Unexpectedly, the track turns off of the main road, going into a forested area. The road is considerably more narrow at this point, so it takes a conscious effort to not drive into the trees by the asphalt. It looks like the road stretches on forever, as I still can't make out any upcoming turns. I guess the car I chose for the race had a better top speed than Justin's, as I'm quickly catching up to him, moving into third place. I'm gripping my controller to an uncomfortable degree, but I can't seem to relax the tension as I try to make my way into second place. I don't think I can pick up any more speed in this car, so me moving up is reliant on the road staying straight for just a bit longer. After what feels like a lifetime, the front of my car finally starts making it past Elliot's, then the midsection, and finally, I'm in second. The sound of all four car engines is drowning out any remnants of the video game music, and I feel the sudden urge to curse out whoever turned the TV volume up this high. My eyes are focused entirely on Alex's car as I make my final push into first place. If I were actually driving this fast in the real world, I'd be scared out of my fucking mind. Out of nowhere, Alex, and the others, begins to slow down considerably.

Oh fuck.

It's at that point I notice that there is a sharp right turn rapidly approaching. I've been pushing the top-speed of this car since the beginning of this stretch of road, and now I'm going too quickly to stop in time. What's the button to use the handbrake, again? I figure that the only way for me to not fuck up this race for myself is to try to drift around the corner. Considering I've never played this game before, it's going to prove to be a challenge. But, it's either that, or just ending up in dead-last again.

I hold down the A button, and pull the joystick as far to the right as possible. Suddenly, all I can hear from the game is the loud skidding sounds of my tires against the asphalt. To my surprise, I cut the corner a bit early, now going over the grass. I try to do a bit of directional-corrections and start heading back onto the track. Going over the grass definitely slowed me down a fair bit, but it definitely was a significantly better outcome over just crashing into the wall. And, to my surprise, the corner of my screen reads... first?!?

"How the fuck...?" Alex questions, seemingly in disbelief.

"I wish I could tell you." I replied, eyes wide at whatever the fuck just happened.

The distance I managed to gain on Alex isn't by a whole lot, but there's only about a quarter of the track left before we reach the finish line, so I have a chance at winning this. The track hurriedly changes from the forest as it reenters the main track. The long, straight roads seem to end as the road becomes a slow series of sharp turns, never giving me the opportunity to get back up to speed. It seems like the high top speed was my only advantage, because at every corner we take, I turn my camera around, revealing the other cars inching closer and closer to me.

I can see the finish line on the mini-map, just a few more turns away. I know that I'm not gonna be able to distance myself from Alex and the others at this point, so my only feasible strategy is to keep moving, cutting the corners as fast as I can, and getting to the finish line before they can pass me. Unfortunately, Alex's car seems to be getting too close for comfort now, meaning I might have to take some risks to ensure I can stay in first. As we approach the final turn, leading into the finish line, I realise I'm gonna have to try to drift this corner. I can feel my pointer finger practically cracking the plastic on the controller from the amount of pressure I'm putting on the right trigger. In a final plea to win, I push down on the A button, pulling the handbrake. The car starts to smoothly skid around the corner. Luckily, there are barriers on the sides of the road this time, preventing me from sliding onto the grass. To my surprise, the drift seems to work better than expected. That is, until, like the fucking idiot I am, make a slight overcorrection towards the left barriers as I exit the drift. I managed to avoid driving directly into the wall, but it did slow me down a bit.

Alex is immediately behind me, and I put all of my strength into accelerating towards the finish line. I'd be fucked if I broke the controller, cause I can't really afford the fifty dollars to buy a new one, but winning this race is more important to me at the moment. The finish line is only about five-hundred metres away, and Alex is slowly beginning to pass. All I can do at this point is push the gas as much as I can, and pray that I can cross the finish line before he can get back into first place. The finish line gets closer and closer, and it seems like it's gonna be too close for me to accurately tell the winner. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest from how stressful this fucking game has been, and now, we're about to find out whose efforts paid off. As each car makes its way over the finish line, each of our dedicated sections of the screen turns to slow motion. When it's finally over, the text fades in on each screen, revealing our place...

...

...Second?!?

"FUCK!" I shouted, realising I had been holding my breath since the final stretch of the race.

"HA! Dude, you suck!" Alex exclaimed, playfully shoving me.

"I think that was the most effort I've put into anything in my life." I said, setting my controller on the coffee table in front of me.

"Wow, that's dramatic," Justin remarked.

"Yeah, that's the usual for Jake," Elliot replied, laughing.

"You probably woulda won if you picked a better car, dude. That track was way too close-quarters so you should've gone with a car with better acceleration." Alex said.

"Wha- do you own this game?" I questioned, looking accusatory.

"...Yeah? It came out a few months ago, pretty popular right now." He replied.

"Ugh, this is what I get for playing with a bunch of gamers." I exclaimed, applying a disgusted tone to the last word.

"Not my fault you only play like one game a month!" Alex joked.

"Even then, I was like this close to beating you anyway!" I said, gesturing a minuscule distance between my thumb and pointer finger.

A voice interrupts our argument, coming from right outside the room, "Uh huh...

...

Really? That's bullshit! Come on...

...

Dude, give me a couple of days, I'll make it right!

...

Yeah, I swear."

It seems that we all stopped talking to listen in at the same time. "That sounds like Tyler... who's he arguing with?" Elliot asked. I can't make out the voice of whoever he's talking to, it just sounds like mumbling.

They seem to pause for a moment, and the sound of a single set of footsteps can be heard.

"Fuck..." Tyler says to himself, still out of view.

"...I should probably see what's up, you guys can keep playing without me." I say, getting up from my spot on the couch.

"Yeah, you do that! Less competition for me," Alex exclaims, laughing to himself.

"Hey, I can still beat your ass at this game, I know exactly which car to pick this time!" Elliot argued.

"Yeah, right! Guess we'll find out!"

I leave as the three start up another game, kind of glad I don't have to have another near-heart attack from playing again. When I get back into the dimly-lit hallway, Tyler is nowhere to be seen.

I look around, heading into the main room of the house to see if I can spot him. It's pretty difficult to see anything, because of how dim it is here, plus the sheer amount of animals crowding up the place. Despite that, I manage to spot the Grey Wolf a ways away, hurrying quickly into the bathroom.

As I shove my way through a few groups of teens, I almost fall over a few times, gaining confused stares from a few in the room. I lightly knock on the bathroom door, waiting for a response, "Hey, you okay Tyler?" After a few moments, I'm returned with no answer, "...Tyler-" Before I can finish my sentence, Tyler swiftly pulls open the bathroom door, pulling me in and shutting the door behind me, before sitting down on the side of the bathtub. As I'm about to say something, I hear the sound of him sniffling.

...Is he crying?

He's looking towards the floor, so I can't confirm it visually, but the sound definitely gives it away.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Did something happen?" I asked worriedly, not yet choosing to bring up the argument we overheard.

There's a few seconds of silence as he tries to bring himself together, not very successfully. "I- I... I don't- I don't think I can-"

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I tried to reassure him. He raises his head for a moment to look at me, trying to find words to say, instead opting to go back to crying, head in his hands. I've never been good with situations like this, so I sit down next to him, putting my hand on his upper back, softly patting.

"I'm sorry- I'm a fucking idiot. I shouldn't have asked you to come."

"Hey! I've been having fun! Don't worry about me, it seems like you're the one who shouldn't have come." I joke, in some effort to lighten the mood.

Shit, was that inconsiderate of me to say?

To my surprise, he manages to let out a light laugh, "Yeah, I'm starting to realise that."

"...Do you wanna leave, then? They know I didn't want to go here in the first place, so you could just say you're being nice and walking me home." I didn't know if he would actually take up that offer, but I know some guys have a weird thing about not wanting to seem 'uncool' and leaving a party early was definitely considered that.

He thinks for a moment, still sniffling pretty noticeably. "...okay, just- give me a minute, I don't want to go out there looking like this." He mumbles, looking towards the door.

"Yeah, that's fine." I said, continuing to rub around his neck area.

This definitely wasn't how I expected the night to go. But it was a sort of 'two-birds-with-one-stone' kind of situation. I get to help out Tyler, which is usually the other way around, I get to leave early, and hopefully Shae stops bugging me about going to parties, at least for a while.

Now that I think about it, that analogy is pretty messed up.

A few silent minutes go by as I sit next to the still-crying Tyler, waiting for him to recollect himself. Even though he hasn't actually said anything here, in the two months I've known him, this is probably the most vulnerable I've ever seen him. When I first met him, it was pretty accurate to describe him as the kind of guy who acts like he never feels emotion. Hell, even I refuse to be open about my feelings, but most of my friends see through that nowadays. Even now, I don't really understand why I do that. I guess it's just easier to not talk about shit like that? Is that why Tyler does it?

"I think I'm good now," He said, shaking his hands as he stood up.

"Okay, let's get out of this dumpster fire." I sarcastically remarked. Tyler shot me a confused look in return. "Whatever, let's just go."

I open the bathroom door, grabbing his arm as I lead him out into the main room. Almost immediately the voice of a certain black cat perks up behind us.

"Oh? And what did you two get up to in there?" Chris remarked, laughing, "I didn't know you guys were THAT kind of friends!"

God damnit. This stupid fucking feline.

"Yeah, it's too loud out here for me, I needed a break, he came with." I explained, Tyler standing closely behind me with a confused look on his face. Just roll with it, dude, I think to myself, knowing I probably shouldn't say that out loud.

"You know, I would believe that, but normal guys actually just go outside when they need a break." He replied.

"Well, hey! That's where we're going right now, so it all checks out!" I say in the bitchiest voice I can muster.

"Heh, sure thing, Jake." He said, sounding weirdly satisfied with himself. I didn't want to spend any more time in this fucking house than I needed to, especially while talking to Chris, so I continue on, pulling Tyler by the hand towards the exit. After a few moments, we make it to the front door. I promptly open it and we both head outside.

We're immediately greeted by the light of the moon and the starry sky as we head down the walkway toward the street. One of the few benefits of living in such a backwater town was the absence of any significant light pollution. I've been to Portland a few times for school field trips and such, and seeing the sheer difference in visible stars was absolutely staggering. I could only imagine what it would be like to go stargazing in the middle of nowhere.

"At least it's a nice night out." I said.

"Yeah..." Tyler replied, his mind clearly in a completely different place.

"I should probably tell Shae where we went, so she doesn't freak out trying to find us back there." I joked, pulling out my cell phone. Texting on my flip phone was an arduous task, but I didn't want to call her, so I had not much of a choice.

I send the text, and close my phone, returning it to my pocket. As we walk down the road, we stew in the silence, the only auditory sounds coming from the party still close by, and the local crickets chirping.

I won't lie, as much as I usually appreciate quiet, this is the loudest silence I've ever been stuck in. It goes on for more than five minutes. I could tell he wanted to say something, and I was eager to find out whatever was going on that started this in the first place. But, like the coward I am, I try to lighten the mood.

"Hopefully that satisfied your quota of me going to parties with you for a while, cause I do not plan on having the energy for something like that again for at least a few months." I said, awkwardly laughing. He doesn't respond, at least for a while, as he raises his hand, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "...Uhh, are you sure you don't wanna talk about it? I mean-"

"Can I tell you something?" He interrupted, his voice still cracking like it was in the bathroom.

"...Sure?" I replied, slightly confused.

"It's just that- I don't really know- like what-"

"-to say? Just think for a minute. No rush." That's what my dad always says whenever my mind spirals. I used to be really anxious, although I've been getting better at controlling my thoughts in the past few years.

When I went to text Shae a few minutes ago, my phone's clock read 9:48 PM. I'm supposed to be home at ten and we're still at least twenty minutes away, not even including the detour we'll take to get to Tyler's place. Which brings me to the realisation that, when we get to his house, I'm gonna have to walk the rest of the way home by myself, in the dark. If I get murdered by some serial killer this late at night I'm gonna fucking haunt Shae from the afterlife-

"I think I'm gay," He quickly says, his voice holding a noticeable increase in energy compared to what I've been used to tonight.

Well... can't say that's exactly what I was expecting. Was I expecting anything in particular? I honestly don't know anymore. His words took me by surprise, my brain is kind of scrambled right now. I look over at him - he's looking back at me, probably trying to gauge my reaction. I did my best to conceal any facial reaction, but it's pretty clear that my lack of a response is starting to become noticeable.

"...You... think?"

"Well, like- I don't know. I guess I've just been thinking for a while, and it makes sense... all things considered." He replied anxiously.

"That- That's great! Does anyone else know?"

"I only really realised a few weeks ago, so... no. But compared to anyone else, I probably trust you the most to not like- tell anyone?" He said, looking over at me again.

"Well, I appreciate the completely undeserved confidence you have in me," I joked, realising too late that now probably isn't the time for that, "Yeah, I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you," He replies, a genuine smile strewn across his face.

A few minutes go by as we walk down the road, absorbing the positive energy we created. Having only known Tyler for a little over two months, it definitely surprised me knowing that he trusted me more than anyone else to keep a secret like that... I mean, despite the short amount of time since I met him, I'm as close to him as I've been to Shaela for the past eight years. Maybe even closer? I barely even tell Shae about my actual problems, at least the non-surface level stuff. So yeah, I guess it makes sense that he would trust me with something so important, I know I would absolutely trust him if it were me in that situation.

"...So, do you think you're gonna tell your dad?"

He didn't say anything for a moment as he stared down at the ground beneath him, "I'll probably have to tell him soon, if he has to find out from some asshole that isn't me it'd make it ten times more difficult than if I just said it myself."

I agreed, and we let the conversation cut itself off as we finally approached Tyler's house. I followed him up the walkway and stood on the patio, making sure he actually got inside. He tries the doorknob eagerly, to no avail. Realising that it was locked, he reaches into his pocket for his key - again, to no avail.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Tyler mumbled under his breath, clearly done with tonight. All of the lights were off in the house, signalling that his dad was not awake.

"Maybe you'll wake him up if you knock? Then he can let you in."

"Nonono, he thinks I'm staying at your place! If he finds out I went to a party I'm in deep shit," He whispered.

Of course. If I had to lie to my parents, why would I expect anything different from anyone else?

"Okay, uhh... maybe we can make that lie... not a lie?" I said, sounding weirder than I'd like.

Tyler looked at me, confused for a moment, eyes widening as he realised what I meant, "I can't let you do that, I've already forced you through too much shit tonight."

"Oh, come on, of course you can sleep at my place for the night! My parents think I'm at your house right now, so I can just tell them that we both went over there early in the morning. They love you anyway, so it won't be a problem!"

He didn't move at all, still looking reluctant, "Are you sure it won't be... weird? I don't want to put you in an awkward situation cause of w- what I told you."

"Dude, that couch in my room has a hide-a-bed if you don't want to share mine. Either way, we're friends, aren't we? I trust you."

After a few moments of silence, he speaks up, "...I guess so-"

"Great, then it's settled!" I said, putting my arm around his shoulder as I led him back down the walkway.

---

Once we make it to my place, walk up the creaky wooden steps of my patio as I fish the house key out of my pocket. Tyler's standing closely behind me, looking awkward as ever, clearly not knowing what to do with his hands as he switches between putting them in his pockets and clasping them together.

I turn the key on the lock and try the door, noticing that It's completely pitch black inside the house. My parents usually go to bed at 10 PM, and it was well past that at this point. I lock the door behind us as I reach for my pocket, grabbing my phone and flipping it open to use as a barely-useful flashlight. I take Tyler's wrist as I lead him through the furniture of my living room and up the stairs. The only sounds in the house come from the soft ticking of a clock in the kitchen, the sound of which has always freaked me out whenever I'd come downstairs at three in the morning. Despite my best efforts to be as quiet as possible, the old wooden boards of the stairs prove my effort to be futile as they creak with every step. I can only hope that both of my parents have fallen asleep by now, or else they'd definitely have heard us. As I take Tyler down the hallway, walls strung with various family photos and art fit for a motel, I hear no sounds coming from the master bedroom, relaxing some of my tension.

Once we make it to my room, I breathe a sigh of relief as I turn on the overhead light, hoping my mom doesn't find out and try to lecture me in the morning, "Okay, hide-a-bed or mine, your choice!"

"Hide-a-bed." He replies.

"Sure thing, lemme show you how to set it up," I say as I remove each couch cushion one by one. The couch is sitting directly under my massive bedroom window, illuminated by the glow of the moon. Under the cushions is a black folded-up contraption, bearing a metal handle. I grab the handle and start pulling the bed out from the couch. As the first section of the bed comes out, Tyler stands next to me and helps unfold the second section, and finally the third.

I move over to open the closet door, "I have some spare pillows and blankets in here."

"So, why do you have a spare bed... thingy... in your room anyway?" He asked.

"My cousins' family came to visit from the other side of the country a few years back, so my parents made the cousins stay in my room and gave me our old couch that used to be in the living room. They were here for like two weeks, it was fucking awful," I remarked, pulling a comforter out of the closet and unfolding it out on the mattress.

"That sounds miserable," Tyler sympathized.

"It was, but hey, now I got a sick as fuck couch in my room! And it works as a great place for certain friends to sleep when they wanna spend the night," I said sarcastically, looking over at Tyler as I grabbed the pillows from the closet, tossing them to one end of the bed.

He turned his head, baffled, "Was that a dig on me?" He questioned.

"Depends on how you took it I suppose," I replied, smiling cunningly.

"You're the one who offered, dude- are you sure you didn't drink at the party? You've at least doubled your usual level of sarcasm." He retorted.

"Nope, unless somebody spiked my soda!" I joked, but the realisation slowly set in, "Oh shit- maybe someone spiked my soda?!?"

"Don't freak out, I seriously doubt someone would spike your drink,"

"God, I hope so, if my parents found out I went to that party, that'd be one thing, but if I got drunk? I doubt I'd see the outside world for months," I sighed.

"Even if you were drunk, it's not like you would still be drunk in the morning for them to find out, anyway."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said, letting out a yawn shortly thereafter. "Fuck, I didn't realise how tired I am." Looking at my alarm clock, it was 10:37 PM. That wasn't terribly late, I've definitely stayed up later when there was an assignment due the next day that I forgot about, but even before I met up with Alex and Elliot, that party was just wearing me down. "At least I can sleep in 'till like noon tomorrow. You sure you don't need anything before I pass out from exhaustion?"

"No, I'm okay, I think. And, thank you... Jake." He replied, smiling at me.

"No problem, dude!" I quietly exclaimed as I turned off the bedroom lights and hopped into bed. I can practically feel my muscles dissolve as I lean into the mattress, pulling the heavy blankets over me as I close my eyes.

I can't help but feel something itching in the back of my brain. I never did find out why Tyler was even crying back at the party. Was it related to what he told me after? He sounded pretty upset when he was talking to whoever it was in the hallway, too, so maybe that was why? We've already talked about so much shit tonight, though, and I definitely did not have the energy to have another huge conversation about something like that. It could definitely wait until tomorrow.

Soon, I feel my consciousness drift away, the only sound I can make out being the slow breathing of Tyler, across the room.

---

As I wake up, I'm blinded by the bright sun shining in through my windows, directly into my eyes. I glance over at my alarm clock, feeling incredibly groggy and sore, noticing that it's 11:13 AM. Usually, the latest I'd sleep in on weekends was only around ten, but I guess it took a lot of my energy yesterday to try to tune the party out. At least it's over.

I slowly sit up, yawning as I lean back against the bed frame. I glanced around the room, noticing that the hide-a-bed had been folded back into the couch, Tyler nowhere to be seen. I reach over to my bedside table to check my phone, finding an unread text from him, sent a few hours ago.

Tyler: hey

woke up early, figured youd want 2 sleep in.

will call u later, might have somthin big i wanna share, will see

A pair of oddly cryptic messages. Guess that confirms he isn't here anymore.

At least it was a Saturday, meaning that I had full permission to be a slob. I get out of bed, deciding to skip my usual shower until after breakfast. Other than the snacks that were out at the party, I ate practically nothing last night. I could almost feel my stomach turning itself inside out, so I hurried out of my room and downstairs to the kitchen to have some breakfast.

The first thing I notice when I get downstairs is my mom, sitting on the couch with a book. I head straight to the kitchen, trying not to make myself stand out.

"Jake! Finally woken up, I see." She remarked, still looking at her book.

"Hey, mom!" There's a moment of silence as I grab a bowl out of the cupboard, as well as a box of cereal, and begin to pour.

She speaks up, "Your friend, Tyler, seemed to be in a hurry to leave this morning, anything I should know about?"

"...Not that I know of? Like what?" I questioned as I poured some milk from the fridge, grabbed a spoon, and sat at the kitchen counter.

"Well, it's not like we didn't notice that you weren't home by ten like your father asked you to be, so obviously you must have a good excuse for why you didn't at least call to let us know you'd be late?" She replied. I could tell when she started talking all responsible-parent-like, it meant that she was gonna lecture me about something.

I sighed, thinking of the right thing to say. "...Well, Tyler was going through some things... so I was trying to help him with that, I guess. Time just kinda flew by and I wasn't able to get home 'till later."

"So he spent the night here? Weren't you at his house?" She asked as I ate a spoonful of cereal.

"Yeah... we went out for a bit and once I noticed how late it was I offered to let him spend the night at our house since it was closer," I said. Almost entirely a lie, but definitely preferable to the truth.

"Jake..." She said, setting her book down on the coffee table in front of the couch, walking over to me, and resting a hand on my shoulder. "You're sixteen now, obviously we don't expect you to tell us everything you're up to nowadays. But we worry about you! I worry about you. Just for future reference, please let us know if you're gonna be home late or anything like that."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," I said, looking up at her.

"Great! Now, I have to go meet a friend for lunch, please try not to burn the house down while I'm out!" She said as she grabbed her purse and keys off of the counter, hurring out the door.

"No promises, love you!" I said as she closed the door behind her.

Well, I guess that went... better than expected? I doubt she believed that story I made up, but I guess as long as I don't break curfew without telling them, I should be fine.

Having the house to myself wasn't totally uncommon. Considering my dad was gone during the day five days a week, and my mom would head out to go meet friends or run errands pretty often, I got some much needed alone time often enough to not go mad.

As I finish my bowl of cereal, I realise that I probably should go shower as soon as possible, considering the night I had. I put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and head back upstairs. I grab a towel from my room and head into the bathroom, grabbing my various fur care products out of the cabinet for after the shower. As I turn the shower on, I hear the sound of my ringtone going off in the pocket of my pants on the floor. I sigh annoyedly, walking over and trying to figure out which pocket my phone was in. When I flip open the phone, the Caller ID reads out Tyler's name.

"Tyler! What's up?" I ask eagerly, hoping to find out what the news he cryptically texted about was.

"Jake- fuck, I messed up, I shouldn't have- what am I gonna do?" He said anxiously, sounding almost out of breath.

"Hey! Slow down, what's wrong?" I questioned.

"I'm such a fucking idiot! Why did I think this would be a good idea? Jake, I'm so sorry-"

"Tyler! Calm. Down. Just take a few deep breaths," I said. After a few moments, I can hear his breathing steadying on the other side of the call. "Okay, good. Now, what's wrong?"

There's a short pause as he tries to find the right words to say. It sounds like he's been crying. What even the fuck has been the past twenty-four hours?

"Can- do you think I could crash at y- your place for a few more nights? I don't know what to do."

#story #novel #interlude #writing #novel writing #vestige #town #coming of age #lgbtq #gay #furry #wattpad

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themenof--freeridge · 5 years

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Family First (Part 2)

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x Reader

Summary: Reader is Ruby’s older sister and returns from College to learn that Cesar has gotten involved with the Prophets. Oscar and Reader shared an unspoken attraction, but never acted on it. Reader is prepared to defend her brother and her family, but is it too late?

Requested?: No

Warnings: None

**Non-canon storyline**

Part 1

Tagged: @jadeviger, @drabby-abby, @mbaku-babygirl, @lana-loves-stuff,

It was all so impressive, the Quince. Watching from the side of the room, Y/N admired how genuinely happy Olivia looked dancing around in that well-suited dress. It reminded her of her own Quince, which was just as colorful but not as extravagant without Ruby’s touch.

She moved to pour herself a cup of fruit punch just as the DJ switched the track to something more modern and upbeat. Ruby led Olivia to the center of the dance floor and started showing off his practiced moves. Even though she’d been away from home and gaining new experiences, she would always regret not seeing her younger brother grow up. She wanted to be there for him during the happy times, the rough times and even the heartbreaking times. Being a big sister was something that she cherished and while she was back, she wanted to make up for lost time.

Seeing her brother grin and blush at the birthday girl gave her hope that he was discovering love and passion. If she could, she would give him the most life-altering advice on relationships, but she herself had no experience to pull from.

As the music played on, there was a new, off-beat sound in the room. Y/N glanced around until she found the source. Leading heaving, thick-soled footsteps, a stranger had entered the party.

Instantly, she recognized the boy as that Prophets member from the car incident the other evening. Hurriedly, she placed her cup on the table, while maintaining eye contact on the boy’s form.

His expression was a mix of troubled and frustrated. It wasn’t until he reached further into the crowd of dancing Latinos that she saw him draw a weapon. The shifting lights of the party gleamed off of the sleek silver of the hand gun that was now raising to his eye level.

With the weapon out in the open, Y/N flew into defense mode. She pushed people away from her as the Prophet shifted his finger to the trigger, ready to destroy its target.

“Stop!” she yelled out against the music, but very few people heard her.

Just as Ruby took notice of the armed gang member behind Olivia, his eyes widened, aware of how dark this night was about to turn. As the young Martinez gripped Olivia to move her out of the way, Y/N arrived in front of her brother, ready to keep him protected.

The Prophet didn’t even register Y/N’s interference as he pulled the trigger, committing to the attack.

The shot rang throughout the room, having more of an impact than the actual music. The DJ immediately shut everything down and the lights were returned to the original fluorescent effect.

As the pain registered with the blood streaming down her torso, Y/N watched as the attacker fled the scene. She clutched her stomach, but the blood flow just left her with bloody hands scratching at the fabric of her dress. As her legs weakened and she fell to the ground, the last thing she saw before blacking out was her brother’s astonished face as he yelled her name.

Almost two weeks had passed and Y/N was well past the grievance stage. She’d spent the most of the last two weeks in and out of the hospital, under the close eye of the doctors and nurses. In their experience, most gang-related attacks concluded when someone came to finish the job in the ER.

Her stomach was accessorized with stitches that were about 6 inches in length. Whenever she had to shower or change, she tried not to stare at them in the mirror, not wanting to relive that night in her mind.

The only thing that kept her sane was the fact that her brother was safe and untouched. She would never want her brother to feel how she was currently feeling. Every time his friends came over, she urged him to go out and have fun. She loved that he wanted to spend time with her in recovery, but she didn’t want him to witness her if she slipped into a bout of rage or depression.

When she was alone, she let her mind take over. Since that night, she hadn’t seen or heard from Oscar. She knew Cesar filled him in on what happened, but he never showed up or sent a message through one of his guys. Whenever she thought of him, her heart beat raced, more out of rage than affection. She was completely pissed off by getting shot, especially when it could have easily been her brother. Now, she didn’t even want to see the Santo; if she did, she’d tear her stitches open from trying to attack him.

Needing to get away from the constant eyes on her, Y/N took her laptop and made the easy stroll to the nearby coffee shop. Seated with an iced Americano next to her, she powered on her laptop and retreated into social media, checking up on what her College friends were doing during the Christmas break. After a few sips, an email alert popped up, from her College.

She immediately opened the message and was then left staring at her schedule for the upcoming semester. During everything, college classes were the last thing on her mind. Remembering that she was only home temporarily, her eyes began watering.

She was so absorbed in the email that she didn’t hear the Café’s door open. She didn’t even notice that the person she wanted to see the least right now was approaching her. It was only as the chair opposite her skidded against the wooden-paneled flooring that she averted her gaze and stared at the visitor.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, her lips curling into a snarl.

Oscar sat comfortably in the chair opposite her, resting his elbows on the table’s edge

She remained speechless as his eyes appraised her, spending more time on her wounded area than she appreciated.

“How’ve you been, Ma?” he asked, furrowing his brows as he maintained eye contact.

She couldn’t believe him. While he remained calm, her rage was increasing with every passing second. Rather than engage with this, she rose to her feet and grabbed her laptop.

Rushing our the door, she headed back to her house.

Not missing a beat, Oscar shadowed her. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he hollered after her.

At that, she stopped and spun to face him, her expression clouded in disdain. “Okay? Do I look okay to you? I was fucking shot! By someone wh-who wasn’t even important to me or my family. It was some kid who had beef with your goddamn brother, but my family was in danger because of it! And you! You show up after two fucking weeks and tell me that I look okay? What the hell, Oscar!”

He took a few steps towards her, not letting his expression change. Y/N stood still, her chest heaving in rage accompanied by watering eyes.

She didn’t know what to expect, but as Oscar approached and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, she couldn’t fight anymore. With one deep breath, she let him pull her closer, completely leaning herself again his sturdy form. As she rest her head against his chest, she let herself go, letting the tears flow freely.

Oscar moved to pat her head with one hand as he said towards her ear, “You really think I didn’t want to spend every waking moment making sure you were okay? You should’ve seen Ruby yelling and pushing me away when I tried to get to you in the hospital. I’ve been keeping my eye on you since you got shot, and this is the first time you left the house alone. I had to see you; I couldn’t take it anymore.”

She closed her eyes as she listened. While the bitter side of her wanted to dismiss every word he said, there was still the better part of her than needed this. She had no idea how much she needed his words, his embrace, his mere presence.

Oscar vowed that the Prophets problem was solved and that she and her family would be safe. He even made sure that her house was monitored just in case any other Prophet member tried to seek revenge.

Despite Y/N’s insistence to her brother that Oscar was safe, Ruby continuously glared at the Santo whenever he showed up at the house.

She was still in recovery, but at least she could let go of some of the rage and frustration she manifested towards the gangs and towards Oscar. It was becoming clearer to her that she wanted him around more often than not.

#on my block #On my block fanfiction #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz #oscar spooky diaz #Spooky diaz #spooky diaz x reader #julio macias

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years

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Love Me Like You Used To (part 2)

AN: Thanks for all the love on this little mini story, y’all! I do ask that if you like my work, please reblog! It’s great to get so many likes, the but the greatest compliment as a writer (imo) is sharing my work! :)

2.7k of uncertainty

____

Y/N shifted on her bed uncomfortably as she read the text from Nick.

It was good to see you today.

She didn’t know what to say--mostly because it was good to see him today. It felt good to be with someone who knew her before things felt so out of balance. Y/N read the words another three times before she let her thumbs hover over the screen.

How did she say that to Nick in a way that didn’t seem like she was coming onto him or holding onto something that wasn’t there? Sure, Y/N and Nick had agreed to be friends when they broke up, but it went just as well as it does for most couples. A few texts here and there--liking each other’s instagram posts--until finally, nothing. Their years together faded into a memory, only thought about in rare moments alone.

She typed back: It was good to see you too. Thanks for listening.

She let the phone flop to her bed and wondered about where things had all went wrong. When did her life become one that she didn’t recognize? When did she start to feel so unlike herself?

Her phone buzzed quickly--her immediate thought was that there was clearly nothing left between she and Nick if he was texting back so quickly. If there was, he would have waited a few minutes, you know, make her work for it. But it wasn’t Nick.

It was Harry.

Hope Nick is doing well.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her heartbeat was suddenly in her ears as she looked up at the clock. Had he seen something online? Had he seen them in person? Was he still living in the West Village?

Again, her thumbs hovered over the screen--but this time, for a different reason. What did she say to the boy who still held her heart in his hands? The boy who likely didn’t love her like she still loved him--despite the six months and the one drunk text between them?

He was angry, the words in his text made that clear.

She typed a few words and backspaced. Typed again, backspaced. Once more, until she stared at the blank message and wondered what it would be like to type her real feelings.

“Hey,” a voice sounded from the doorway--Y/N’s roomate, Nina, poked her head through the door frame. “How was your date with a Jonas Brother?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, flopping back on her bed a little too dramatically. “It wasn’t a date, okay? It was just coffee and talking and catching up. You know, normal things you do with your ex-boyfriend.”

“Girl, I’ve had a shit ton of ex-boyfriends and I have never done that with any of them.”

Y/N shot her roommate a look, one that read you’re not helping, as Nina came to sit on the bed.

“It’s not that easy, Nina.”

“What’s not easy? Dating cute guys with lots of money?”

Y/N gave her another unimpressed glance--she hated when people took it there. Sure, she knew that she was linked to people with a different form of popularity than most were used to--she knew her job gave her that type of access to those types of people--but Y/N didn’t see them that way.

“Harry texted me,” she said quietly, her eyes on the ceiling as she waited for Nina to have a dramatic reaction.

“I’m sorry--what? Two ex-boyfriends in one day?”

“In the span of three hours,” Y/N corrected.

“That’s got to be a record, even for you.”

Y/N laughed at this, watching as Nina stood from her bed and headed back to the door. “I’m meeting Katie for dinner, want to join?”

“I can’t,” Y/N spoke, turning on her side to face Nina in the doorway once more. “I’ve got a skype call with my manager and a few contracts to read over.”

With that, Nina disappeared from sight, her words still ringing in Y/N’s ears. That’s got to be a record, even for you.

Y/N knew that there was something cosmic about it--something strange about the fact that the one time she was vulnerable enough to reach out to Nick and put herself out there, Harry showed up.

Y/N had been to Chelsea four times since she broke up with Harry. She’d avoided it for so long. She avoided the 6th avenue street fair when the weather warmed up and she avoided the Chelsea Pier like the plague.

She wondered, as she stared back at her phone once more, what kind of sick joke the universe was playing on her.

Harry had decided to put his phone underneath the couch cushion when he watched TV that night. He decided it’d be better off there, in a place where he wouldn’t be tempted to check it every 13 seconds to see if Y/N had texted back.

He’d made it through two commercial breaks before he felt like the phone was burning a hole at the end of his couch.

He scrambled for it, his heartbeat climbing when he saw her name on the screen. Somehow, he hadn’t expected to actually get a reply.

He’s doing well. Working on a few new projects lately.

He let out a burst of air through his nose, his anger climbing up this throat and leaving a heat in his chest that he didn’t like the feeling of. He hated being mad at Y/N. He hated feeling like there was space between them that only grew with the passing seconds they spent apart.

But he couldn’t deny that things had changed. He couldn’t deny that distance was hard and work never made it easy. He didn’t like all of her friends and she certainly didn’t love all of his. There were fights and phone calls that ended in an impulsive press of the ‘end call’ button and ignored voicemails.

There were also days when Y/N would be the only person in the world to make him smile.

Harry had to fight the urge to call her--his thumb seemed to float above the small icon under her contact. One quick press and he had the chance of hearing her voice. But he didn’t know if that’s what he wanted.

Not if she was back with Nick.

But how was he supposed to ask that? How was he supposed to get more information about their meeting if he couldn’t actually ask? And what did her text mean? Y/N wasn’t stupid enough to think Harry was seriously inquiring about Nick--she’d absolutely picked up in the sarcasm that laced his message.

Which mean that Y/N was being just as testy in her reply, which made Harry more annoyed.

Nick had no clue what the feeling was in his chest when he laid in bed to try to sleep. He didn’t know what he thought or felt or wanted and that was something entirely new to him. He’d always been a take charge kind of person--he’d always been one to set his sights on a goal and meet (if not exceed) it.

It’s not that he hadn’t thought about Y/N at all since they broke up. The first year he thought about her a lot. It was hard to go from talking to her everyday to barely speaking--and it was especially hard when he found out that she’d started dating Harry so quickly.

It’d been barely 6 months and she was suddenly paired up, going out, and doing fun and exciting things with all of her new friends. Nick avoided instagram altogether after he saw her first post about him--even though the breakup was amicable.

Nick cared about Y/N--and that would never change. He wanted her to be happy, but something about Y/N’s new boyfriend had rubbed him the wrong way when he got a text from a mutual friend asking if he’d heard the news. She’d bounced to a new boy in a new band and it felt--in a way--like she was fame chasing.

Not that Y/N needed to do that--she was successful on her own. But now she had a new group of friends to go on tour with--new names were beside hers in the headlines and to Nick, it felt like he’d suddenly woken up in an alternate universe.

Y/N L/N on to the next one (direction).

A new direction for Y/N L/N, literally!

Nick eventually decided that getting a girlfriend of his own was the best way to deal with the strange feelings he had about it. And when he met Olivia, everything settled down. The world moved on from his public relationship and public split, and Y/N and Harry seemed to be quieting down as well.

So life moved on. His band broke up, his new relationship ended, he became an uncle (twice), and he realized that he actually enjoyed fishing and writing songs for other people and spending time with his friends away from the stage.

Now, as he sat at the counter in his brother’s SoHo apartment the next morning, Nick couldn’t help but be annoyed by the look on his brother’s face. Joe--who had a penchant for pissing Nick off--was just excited that Nick had reunited with Y/N.

“You can’t be mad at me for being happy about it--she was one of my best friends for four years.”

Nick rolled his eyes and then sipped at his black coffee. “I’m not mad at you--it’s just weird, okay? I have no idea who she is now.”

“She’s Y/N,” Joe said simply. “She can’t be that different.”

“You’re missing the point,” Nick shook his head, almost ready to drop it entirely until Joe rounded the corner and took a seat next to him.

“Then enlighten me, asshole.”

Nick laughed a bit, rubbing at his eyes to try to gain clarity. “She used to be my best friend, too. She used to be the person I called every night before bed--and then suddenly she fell off the face of the earth, pretty much.”

Joe shrugged his shoulders, an admission that Nick had a point.

“And now she--she shows up in my life four years later and needs emotional support? Because her relationship ended and she asks how I’ve been like it’s nothing?”

“This is one of those things that would only happen to you,” Joe laughed, clapping his hand on Nick’s back as he stood.

Nick let out a sigh. “Yeah--no one’s written a book on how to be friends with your ex-girlfriend who you haven’t spoken to in four years.”

Joe tilted his head thoughtfully. “You’ve always wanted to write a book.”

While Nick appreciated the joke, it didn’t help him decide anything. It didn’t give him any more insight into what this meant for he and the girl he didn’t know anymore. And it certainly didn’t give him any insight into the feeling in his stomach when his phone lit up on the counter.

Why didn’t you tell me you had coffee with Y/N? I had to find out on twitter?

Harry wasn’t trying to obsessive. He wasn’t trying to check Y/N’s instagram for updates and he wasn’t trying to be weird when he texted Niall to ask if he’d spoken to her lately. He knew they’d talk periodically--he knew because Niall had let the metaphorical cat out of the bag when he publicly wished her a happy birthday on twitter.

Niall, however, insisted that he had no idea what was going on with her and Nick, and he did his best to ensure Harry that her ex-boyfriend had nothing on him.

“He’s ridiculous, Harry. He wore a chain to a red carpet not that long ago--lookin’ like Liam but stupider, t’be honest with ya.”

Harry let out a sigh, appreciative that his friend was following all the usual protocol: shit talk the competition and boost Harry’s ego accordingly.

“I don’t know if I should text her back.”

“She texted you? You wait until now to tell me that Y/N texted you?”

“Well I texted her first, and then she responded.”

“What did you say?” Niall’s words were rushed as if he needed the information like his life depended on it.

Harry paused for a second, a small laugh escaping his lips in contemplation--he was snarky and he knew it. He also knew that if he told Niall what he’d said, he’d likely get a lecture.

“I asked how Nick was.”

Silence on the other end of the line. After a second, a sigh. “You’re incredibly petty sometimes, Harold.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushed his friend off. “What am I supposed to do when she’s the one who broke up with me, huh? She’s the one who left and she’s the one who’s now in this neighborhood for some reason and hanging out with him.”

“M’not saying it’s right,” Niall said. “I just think you’d be better off telling her how you feel.”

“How I feel?” The words escaped Harry’s mouth without much thought. The problem was that he didn’t really know how he felt. He didn’t really know how to handle this when his strongest feeling was a desire to punch Nick Jonas in the face. But those headlines wouldn’t be good.

“Yeah--y’know. Say that you miss her, say that you wish you never broke up.”

“I can’t just say that to her Niall,” Harry’s deep tone insinuated that what he was saying was obvious, but Niall didn’t see it that way.

“I’m sorry if it was weird,” Y/N laughed, holding her drink to her lips as she smiled across the table at him. She couldn’t really read him--which had always been an issue in their relationship--but she sipped at her drink and set it on the table before raising her eyebrows at him.

“It wasn’t weird in a bad way,” Nick said slowly, a smile pulling at his lips as he let his eyes take her in again. She hadn’t changed much. Her hair was darker than it was when they’d broken up. She’d died it a lighter shade that spring--he was finding blonde hairs all over his apartment long after she’d packed up her things.

“I’m okay with it being weird,” she said. “I mean, we you date someone for four years and then not speak for another four years--I don’t think things just go back to normal after that.”

Nick nodded and moved his head side to side, letting Y/N know that she was right. “You’ll be happy to know that Joe and Kevin are thrilled, though.”

“Joe already texted me,” she laughed, finishing the last of her beer as she tossed her head back in laughter.

Of course he had. The two of them had been inseparable. Another strain on their relationship.

Y/N knew that had always bothered Nick--that she’d been so close with his brothers that she had her own relationship with them. It wasn’t that he was jealous, but Y/N had a knack for taking sides with Joe or Kevin and pissing Nick off. Something that now, Nick could laugh about.

“Of course he did,” he smiled.

At first, when Y/N offered to grab a drink with Nick that night in a bar near Joe’s apartment, he wanted to decline. Their coffee date had only been a day earlier and his head was still reeling from the small talk they’d performed.

Y/N wasn’t nervous this time--she wasn’t wrapped up in her own downfall and her feet felt a little more firmly planted on the ground, even when Nick admitted that he missed her.

And when they hugged goodbye that night, Y/N didn’t mind that Nick’s arms were wrapped around her shoulders, his chin resting on her head before he kissed the top of her hair. “I’m glad we did this,” he said.

“Me too,” she replied, though she didn’t really know what they meant by it.

She was comfortable with the not knowing, though, which was an unexpected (but welcome) change from the last few days. She walked home by herself, counting the blocks in her head as her feet hit the pavement one after another after another.

She rode the elevator up to her apartment and turned down the hall, reaching for her keys in her purse--when she noticed him sitting there. He was slumped on the floor beside her doormat, his head in his hands as if he’d been half-asleep. He shifted and raised his head when she said his name.

“Harry?”

His eyes were on her--he was completely still and seemed to be frozen in thought until he stood from the floor and swallowed. “Hi--sorry--I just, I figured I’d say it all in person instead of over text.”

table of contents

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #nick jonas fanfic #nick jonas fan fic #nick jonas fiction #nick jonas imagine #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic

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yayninjabob · 4 years

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A story behind a story

I have never wrote 100,000 words of anything in my life and 9 months ago when I first sat down to write Villain: Redux I definitely did NOT anticipate the length it would reach by the end of Part I. Now that it is done though I feel like I can talk about it. Well not really the story but the story behind the story?

A very lengthy and personal author's note for Part I: Remote Control

How I started writing again: My relationship with my writing was non existent for years. I honestly went through a very long drought where I felt like everything I created just sucked so bad and I had zero motivation for creating shit. I would talk with my therapist or my wife and friends about feeling so out of touch with my creative side and feeling pretty lost without it. Really, I pretty much felt like it was dead forever. I eventually started a personal journal again... And little drabbles here and there would come to mind... It felt alright but meh. "What did you enjoy about writing that you still feel is missing?" I was asked. Ffffffuck me I dont know. Writing as a teen and in my early twenties wasn't something I ever thought about even when I did it every damn day of my life. I guess I missed having that ongoing plot in the back of my head that I could escape to whenever life was lame. Daydreaming crazy stories as a kid was just my favorite past time and writing went with it. But I just didnt have any more stories in my head. Nothing new or exciting enough at least. Anyways. January was my dads bday. 2019 and that year my dad asked for something. Now my dad isn't one to ask for gifts. No, normally he is extremely frustrating and expects everyone to read his mind while saying "I dont care" yet if his gifts dont meet his secretive expectations he gets all butthurt and emo and says that nobody knows him. Ok but January 2019 he asks me to write him something. "What? A story? A poem? A birthday card?" "I dont care just write me something." Typical. "I dont care." Yeah right. What the hell does he expect from me jeez.... My dad was the OG storyteller in my life- real shit or bullshit- he could spin a crazy story like no one else. My uncles and his friends would sit around smoking and drinking and listening to one wild tale after the next. He could entertain people for HOURS just with the shit he’d say. I always thought he'd make a brilliant stand up comedian but my dad would just laugh at the idea. So for his gift I figured I'd retell one of his personal wild tales - his first encounter with a mountain lion at 12 during a hunting trip with my late great uncle Joe who was his adoptive father figure. Honestly my dad was always so incredibly descriptive and I heard that tale about a bazillion times growing up, and even though he hadnt shared it in probably 15+ years, it was easy to recall. I could just close my eyes and see it clear as day. I stayed loyal to his story but I used my own words. It really surprised me how easy I found those words though. Writing had been such an impossible challenge for so long yet when I finished the short story I had written 12 pages in a single afternoon and I was shocked but in a good way. It was his story so I was pretty sure he would like it. He's got a pretty big ego lol. I typed it up on the typewriter my dad had gotten me back when I was a teen and serious about becoming a "real writer." I figured he would appreciate that. I gave him the story on his birthday. He didnt read it right away. We went to the backyard and the two of us shared a joint and while I started chasing the dogs in the yard for a bit I saw he finally picked the story up. And when he finished he started crying. Which is always weird when it's your dad right? He isn't one to cry easily. Last time I saw tears in his eyes was three years prior at my wedding but even that wasnt like this. He told me "You need to write again. You need to try." But I still felt like I couldn't. I never really thought I was good at it anyway. Sure, people told me they liked my writing and it meant a lot that my dad was moved so much by my short story that I started to believe “hey maybe I can write,” but... I dunno. I had a rough idea for an original novel that I sat down with later that month and tried to work out... But it just felt forced and uninteresting. It wasnt a story my mind could just escape to effortlessly. The passion just wasnt there. After a while my wife suggested to me "Well when you retold your dad's story that was easier right? Maybe you should retell another story that you love." And so in August 2019 I sat down and wrote what would eventually become the scarring scene for Villain: Redux

Part I: Remote Control I spent the rest of August, September and October slowly falling back into my old world of Villain. I reread both Villain and VillainE for the first time in yeeeeeears. What. A. Trip. So much stood out to me that was like "Ok young me, I see where you were going but this could be so much better." I made my list of what I liked and what I wanted to change.. Constructed my outline and then I just went for it. Halloween night that year was spent finishing my first draft of chapter 1. It was still in Buttercup's limited POV. I liked it OK enough but I wondered if it would be improved if I tried third person instead. I said "fuck it why not" and went for it again but in third person, adding the beginning history of Townsville and then the opening scene with Mojo. When I finished it I was pretty amused with it and I found myself just starting right away on chapter 2 and adding even more details to my overall outline- it became a trilogy. It was flowing SO easy and for once writing didnt feel like some forced chore I was performing. The entire time though I debated whether or not to share any of it. I didn't think anyone would read it. But personally, I was falling in love with my new rendition and I really didn't want to stop writing it. So once again I said "fuck it why not" and I started this tumblr to start documenting my new commitment to rewriting Villain for good. I edited the first chapter and uploaded it a couple days before Thanksgiving. And the support I got from readers honestly made me cry haha... I really really thought the story would go unnoticed. After all, when I first started writing for the PpG fandom it was always an uphill battle and 90 percent of my first reviews were just flames and criticism. The original Villain really took a while to gain much of a readership and even though it had its moment of somewhat popularity in the fandom, that moment came after it was completed. A brief glance at the PpG section on FFnet showed me that things really hadnt changed- still 99 percent PpGxRrB romances. Man, it just seemed so unfair. I freaking love this show and TBH I will never understand the fandom's fixation on those damn Rowdyruffs. Whatever. It is what it is. But because of that and because I hadnt been an active writer in the fandom for like a decade I really thought I'd be lucky to get one review. And I did! On the first day! And I was PUMPED lol. Then over the next couple of days I got more and most from names I recognized from the past! I was so touched by some of the things you guys said, you will have no idea what those first 7 reviews meant to me. And of course the reviews to follow throughout the next chapters only continued to motivate me further. And now I'm done with Part I. Jeez what a freaking journey. I feel like I've learned a lot though and I hope that the story only improves from here. Today, this story invades my subconscious more than I would like to admit. But. It is so nice to have an exciting story to escape to once more. And I feel like I can say that my creative drive is finally restored again which feels amazing. Who knew it would be this rewrite of all things to do it. So yeah. I owe the biggest thanks to my readers (the reviewers especially), my wife, and of course my dad. I know we are just at the beginning of this story, but personally I just feel like I've accomplished more than I could've imagined already... like I said... 100,000 words is something I’ve never done before lol. And I cant wait to share the rest of the story with everyone. Anyways that’s my long soppy backstory on how I decided to rewrite Villain. Thanks for reading. :)

#writing #fanfic #behindthescenes #personal #villain #villainR #yayninjabob #PPG fandom #ppg fanfic #family

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missizzy · 4 years

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New Fic: Habeas for Superheroes, Part 9 (Daredevil)

(Read entire fic on AO3)

Marci shooed Jose out as well, which surprised Foggy. When they were alone, she said, “I know you’re going to want to make what they did to Wanda the center of this, now that Ross has made clear he’ll do it to her again and insist international law now mandates it-and I agree that’s a pretty terrifying precedent. But we need to get the public’s sympathy. And they’re never not going be scared of her. Sam has the good public image, and really didn’t ever need to be confined in the Raft-we’ll have to hammer that point home; that’s the hole we can blow in Ross’ narrative. I think until something happens or the first hearing date gets set, at least, you should let me do the talking to the media.”

“So that’s the stance we’re taking, then?” Foggy demanded, too loud, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Just protect the people who can be neutralized just by taking their equipment from them, saying nothing when Ross not only does whatever he wants to, but then insists that he and all his successors and equivalents in other countries are required to do that to their citizens, too?”

“It’s the one I have to take, Foggy,” she replied. “Remember, I’m Sam’s lawyer. I have to put his interests first, and right now I don’t even care how he feels about it, so don’t go talking to me about that.”

“Well.” If Marci wanted to take that route. “I’m Wanda’s lawyer, so you can’t expect me to just shut up and let you throw her under the bus.”

“But how much could you gain by blaring about this to the media right now, Foggy? You know whose side they’ll take. All you’ll do is make things harder for the rest of us. Ask Matt, he’ll tell you.”

The use of her husband’s name in that context by Marci, who after years of their acquaintance had still never really known him, who would be throwing him under the bus too in her ignorance, sent a surge of rage through Foggy that left her trembling. Her voice turned cold as she replied, “Matt would thank you not to speak for him.”

Marci recognized her reaction, but she took it in stride. “Fine, then. But there are other people who’ll also give you their opinions if you try to do this. Yeah, your friend Karen’ll be full speed ahead-until she collides right into the hasty words of her boss, since he has some sense.”

“She’ll fight, and so will Trish, and really, Marci, you should know better than to think you’ll intimidate me into conceding a fight before I’ve even begun it. And you know how discourse has gone in this country lately. Whoever is the loudest and talks the most can spew outright lies and still get a good amount of people believing them. You think I’m going to stay silent and let the other side do all that yelling?”

Marci opened her mouth, then hastily shut it. Foggy pressed on before she could think of what to say instead. “You just lost all you influence on me, for the record. You might get some of it back if you can show me before our first joint court date looms that you’re willing to have minimal consideration for my client.” That would probably be a while away now, since their clients were no longer in custody and they didn’t have to worry about their treatment anymore.

“Then there’s no point in having you in my office any longer. Although I’m going to be putting out a very general statement about reviewing the charges and how I still have questions about why it took this long to file them. Which really should be a joint statement. If there’s nothing in that you object to…” Marci inclined her head towards the door.

“That’s fine, send it to me and I’ll probably sign my name,” said Foggy, and walked out. She didn’t slam the door behind her; she didn’t want to give Marci the satisfaction. Even so, the noise of it closing was loud in her ears.

And now she had nowhere to immediately go to, not until Matt and Jennifer finished their own conversation, which she was pretty sure was going to take a lot longer than hers and Marci’s had. So instead she lingered in the hall corner with her phone, going through her latest missives. The government had just filed a bunch of motions to dismiss, mostly based off the plaintiffs no longer being in the Raft, and there were no doubt more ready to go once those indictments were out. That was enough to make her wish she and Marci hadn’t just put themselves at odds with each other. It would’ve been easier to deal with this with her aid instead.

Finally Matt and Jennifer emerged from her office. It was a safe assumption he’d walk her out, so she just waved and called out a quick, “Hi,” before all but diving into her sanctuary. She supposed Cheryl would probably come back in pretty soon, but at least she had until then to freak out and feel all lost and alone, the way she hadn’t felt since the Castle case.

The thought occurred to her, as she sat down, that she could maybe email Malcolm, because she had his address, and try to apologize for the way she’d talked to him the previous night. It was probably better if she had as few people as possible pissed off at her at any one time. But she was still in so sour a mood that she feared she’d write something that would just make things worse. She thought, too, of the letter currently locked in one of her drawers, the one Cheryl had seen the name on, but hadn’t asked any questions about. But as she’d told Wanda, that one might take a while to reach its destination.

Except now she suddenly desperately wanted to talk to Pepper. She didn’t even know why, exactly. It wasn’t like her current woes were even from the whole married-to-a-superhero thing. It didn’t matter, though, when she needed a better reason than that to risk Stark having any idea about what was going on. Now that Ross was putting on a show of giving them the judicial process, she didn’t trust him at all anymore.

So she just started drafting her responses to the various motions. Maybe Matt could help her with those, she thought. He and Jennifer were probably going to attach joinders to everything until they’d made their deals, so it wouldn’t really be improper.

She’d made a little bit of progress when her husband returned. He would’ve sensed a least some of her distress, of course, so when he came in, she just said, “Don’t ask. It’s not even…just don’t, okay?”

Matt considered for a moment, then said, “I didn’t listen in, but I can tell just from that you and Marci had a serious disagreement.”

“I know, I know, we got no poker faces. We should’ve thought of that before we took on a national-profile habeas case.”

“You and Marci do both realize the four of us need to continue to present a united front for at least a few more days, right?”

Of course he and Jennifer needed that time to pretend their clients were just now contacting them. And even then they might want to keep everything from the public while the negotiations went on. “You’ll have to talk to her,” she shrugged. “She’s drafting a statement right now for the four of us to put out, and it didn’t sound like anything you’d object to either. Once that’s out, I’m not too likely to say anything to the press for at least a few days if none of you three do.” She probably should've told Marci that, but Marci shouldn't have said what she'd said before giving her the chance to.

“Jennifer and I won’t; we can tell you two that no problem. I can also tell you she’s probably going to go back to San Francisco for at least a few days, probably leaving tomorrow.” That made sense, too; she probably wanted to make contact with a new next friend for Scott. “I’ll talk to Marci, see how she’s doing with the statement. Then I’ll head home. I’ve got some other things to take care of.” He leaned over and kissed her, and it was the kind of soft, reassuring, “we’ve got this” moment they’d still had too little of since they’d first gone to the hospital to see Frank Castle.

When Marci’s statement arrived, it was about what Foggy had expected. She was still angry at her, but she couldn’t help but admire the professionalism with which she informed the world that Ross had been lying through his teeth. She did point out that only one of the Raft’s three prisoners had actually been superpowered, but that Foggy couldn’t argue with. She replied with her approval immediately, and Matt and Jennifer had both done the same within an hour.

It was late in the day, when she was reading her way through the indictment against Steve and noting all the mentions of Bucky Barnes by name, that it first occurred to Foggy to wonder why he hadn’t been charged with the others. Had those who’d arrested him in Romania found reason to think him mentally incompetent to stand trial, or even to appreciate the wrongfulness of any recent conduct? That possibility was enough to make Foggy fear for the safety of all the Avengers all over again.

It could be something else, she also thought. Something secret the U.S. government had carefully kept out of the indictments. Something the Avengers themselves might also know, and might hypothetically tell their lawyers, who then might hypothetically determine it to be in their clients’ interests to make it public.

The fact that they had not told their lawyers this secret, of course, did not lessen the potential danger that would put the four of them in if it existed, and the government knew or even believed they might know it. Suddenly the thought of Matt and Jennifer having clandestine meetings with them, ones where they would likely be asked to not tell anyone, even family, about their taking place, was a much scarier prospect.

She had to talk to Matt about that. But it might be a better idea to have that conversation in person, especially since that would keep him from hanging up on her. There were Marci and Jennifer too, but them she just warned by email. They didn’t respond, but she hadn’t expected them to. Hopefully they would at least heed her words.

But she got home late that night. Sasha’s case took an unexpected turn, and she spent an hour on the phone with two different people. Then she was waylaid by Benowitz, who ever since Midland Circle had been harassing her about her associations with both Jessica and Luke; she knew he was harassing Jeri about it as well. After dealing with him, she finally hurried home without even trying to grab dinner, hoping Matt hadn’t eaten all the leftovers.

He hadn’t, but he had gone out; he’d left the chest out by the closet, as he usually did if she wasn’t home to see him off, even now, when he would've had to go over to Jessica's for it. Foggy put it away before walking up to the roof, and calling, “Matt?” She tried to be as loud as she could without risking anyone on the top floor hearing her. When a couple of minutes had passed, she started telling him the thoughts and fears she’d had earlier that day. She stayed up there for half an hour, but there was no sign of Matt returning. He might or might not have heard her, but if he had, it was likely he was involved in a fight out there, or possibly a chase, or something even more dangerous.

She called Karen on her way downstairs, but got her voicemail. She considered leaving a message, but then decided that her, too, she should talk with in person.

It wasn’t going to be a night for sleeping. Foggy considered trying anyway, if only because she wanted to be there when he returned more than usual, and if he had heard her, he’d come back much sooner. But it was one of those times when she couldn’t even sit down on the bed without needing to get right back up again. She spent a few minutes pacing the living room before she couldn’t stand even that. When she once again got Karen’s voicemail, she decided to see if she was home.

There was no response at Karen’s door when Foggy knocked. She called her again, and still she didn’t pick up. There was a feeling of dread building in Foggy’s gut now, one she’d learned to heed. Not that it did much good right now, when she had no idea what action she could take next.

It was enough to make her wish Frank Castle was still in New York. Although Karen herself didn’t know all that much of what he’d been doing since January or so, they were aware that he’d left the city, and Foggy knew that all three of them were taking note of all the deaths, lately, in the gangs that had been at the carousel that day. That was enough to make her wonder why the rest of the world still seemed to be assuming the Punisher was dead. Since it seemed he wasn’t going back to prison any time soon, Foggy normally thought she’d settle for him at least being out of sight and mind. But there was no denying it would be a lot harder for woe to befall Karen if he happened to be in the area.

All she could do, on the other hand, was hurry home, talking about the situation as she did so, especially since if Matt heard her sounding distressed out on the streets he was likely to zero his ears in. She got in to find the apartment still empty, but barely had time to catch her breath before she heard the familiar clatter of her husband landing on the roof.

Then she heard him running downstairs, which was never a good sign. She scrambled for the first aid kit, glad they’d at least restocked everything since this whole affair started. But when Matt came in, Foggy couldn’t see any signs of significant injuries, and when he had changed into his workout gear, presumably at Jessica’s.

Then she saw how upset he was. “Karen?” she asked, her heart dropping.

“It’s a good thing you were talking all that time, Foggy; I don’t know if I would’ve gotten to her otherwise. I found her unconscious in an alley. I think she actually escaped whoever attacked her, but…called 911 on the burner.” He hadn’t broken he stride, just come to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “But you know, if the government had attacked her, I can’t help but think they would’ve sent the police out on her by now. I started listening for it even before I found her, I couldn’t have risked the hospital if…but I’ve heard plenty of their communications and there’s been nothing.”

“So she’s got some else after her, too?” As if they didn’t have enough problems.

“Might just be one of her older friends. I’m going to have to look into it. Although do you think I should just come with you to the hospital tonight? I assume Karen will call you as soon as they let her.”

Foggy thought about it for a moment, but then said, “You’d start fretting and unnerve her more, and that’s if she didn’t feel guilty over you having to endure all the wonderful sensory input the hospital can provide. And yeah, you'll go crazy over the thought that you could instead be out there finding out who did this. So just go ahead and tail me on the roof until we find out whether Karen can remember anything useful about her assailant, and then, if you’ve got some idea of how to go after them…”

Matt knew how much it cost her to say that to him, and he took her hand as he said, “I don’t think I’ll be out much longer. Nights are really too short right now. Besides, I’ll want to get everything back to Jessica’s apartment again before she’s likely to wake up and get mad and accuse me of deliberately trying to rouse her before noon.”

About an Hour Later

Karen had called them, but she hadn’t called just them. Foggy came into her hospital room to find Mitchell Ellison already there, the two of them engaged in a conversation intense enough it took Karen a moment to notice her. When she did, and had called out Foggy’s name, he turned with a, “Ms. Nelson. Good to see you again. Where’s your husband?”

“One of his own cases wouldn’t wait. He’s anxiously waiting on the line, though.” Both those sentences were true if you stretched it enough.

“I hope he’s not wandering those streets alone right now,” Ellison shook his head. “Karen was attacked by Watchdogs, and while obviously she was more concerned with getting away when those cowards outnumbered her six to one…”

“I did stick around just long enough to hear that they objected to what the four of you are doing, and all your sneaky accomplices in the superpower-worshipping media,” Karen finished, with a tiny snort, before she added, “I’ve already texted Trish to give her a warning.”

“It’s because of the way Ross has been talking they’ve gotten so emboldened,” Ellison added. “Don’t know if you’ve heard about this, Ms. Nelson, but Karen’s the third victim of theirs in as many weeks. And that’s just the ones who lived to tell the tale. There’s also been two missing people, one registered as superpowered, the other just accused of having them.”

“Jesus,” Foggy murmured, because that news brought home the full stakes of this battle. Not to mention the knowledge that there were parts of it she couldn’t fight, and that this was why, in the end, she could never just say the city didn’t need people like Daredevil.

Who right now, on the hospital roof, was no doubt taking all this information in. Or maybe he’d had an inkling of the Watchdog attacks already. Either way he was probably mentally making plans to continue being Daredevil regularly after all, or, at the very least, until all six of the men who had attacked Karen tonight were sitting in jail cells. As, of course, he took off to try to hunt them down.

Maybe he didn’t have to do it alone this time, though. As soon as she was out of Ellison’s company, Foggy intended to call at least Danny and Colleen, who would be sure to want to help. Maybe Luke and Jessica might help as well. At the very least, she’d also call Claire, because she might be needed to help any of the victims that were afraid to go to the hospital-that was one of the dangers of the Accords that she’d recognized upon the first reading.

“If they think this is going to get me to shut up, of course,” said Karen, “they are dead wrong. And no, sir, if I’m too biased to get the byline, fine, let Jennifer keep that, but as soon as I get out of here I am going right back after them…”

“Karen…” Her boss actually sounded more alarmed than anything else.

One look at her face and Foggy took over, “Of course we’re going to investigate this, Karen. Remember Matt and I have new friends now, and they’ll be happy to help, though no, Mr. Ellison, you can’t have their names.”

Ellison just sighed, and said, “Please say they can reduce the chance of my most intrepid reporter getting killed.”

“They actually can do that,” Foggy assured him, and he looked like he believed her.

“You should call them, then,” said Karen. “Yes, now. You know at least two of them won’t mind being woken up-in fact, they’d prefer to be, if in fact they aren’t awake right now.”

Ellison looked between the two of them, and that resigned expression was one Foggy could emphasize with all too well. “I probably should be getting home anyway,” he said. “I’ll call you again in the morning. Well, after the sun rises, since it kind of is morning already.”

They did wake Colleen up. Danny, as they’d already thought he might be, was out on the streets. They could even hope Matt might seek him out, and Colleen readily agreed to call him immediately. “I can monitor the streets of much of Manhattan from here, too,” she added. “I’ll call you back when I have anything to report.”

Thankfully there was a comfortable chair next to Karen’s bed. Foggy sat down in it, saying to Karen, “Don’t worry; you won’t have to keep me entertained any. I’ll probably fall asleep within the hour, you can do the same, and hopefully when we wake up Matt will be here. Maybe you’ll even get lucky and he’ll bring some indication of you’re being discharged with him.”

“Maybe that’s a good plan,” said Karen, which was probably the exhaustion catching up with her. She lay back and closed her eyes herself.

Matt came through for them that day. Foggy woke around seven to the sound of him saying something just outside. He sounded way too sleep-deprived, but when he stepped in a moment later, he wasn’t showing any immediate signs of serious injury. On the other hand, he didn’t look happy at all. “No luck?” Foggy ventured.

“Not even with Rand’s help,” Matt sighed. “He wants to take over the grunt work for this one.”

“Let him,” Foggy urged him. “You already know there are good reasons to.” Karen echoed her.

Matt sighed, but just said, “They’ll probably be willing to discharge you after they get another look at you this morning, from what I overheard. If you don’t want to go home alone, or even at all…”

“I don’t know,” Karen replied. “Maybe I’ll spend even more time at the office. Make Ellison give up on me in despair.”

They all smiled a little at that. Then Matt turned to Foggy, and said, “I wouldn’t be able to work on any of that this evening anyway. I’ve got other business to deal with, the kind where you maybe shouldn’t wait up for me.”

“Got it.” Foggy kindly didn’t mention that the nature of that business was screamingly obvious.

A Few Days Later

The first night of Matt going out and doing something supposedly secret that at least probably wouldn’t get him arrested or beaten to hell was followed by two more. That didn’t necessarily mean things were going to go at all quickly, Foggy knew, but she sincerely hoped.

Danny had taken over the search for the Watchdogs. Colleen might have been helping somewhat, but when Matt and Foggy talked with her on the second day after, she hinted that she might not want to fight that much anymore. Foggy even thought she might hang her sword up for good. Though Matt didn’t seem convinced when she mentioned her thoughts to him later. “I seriously considered it myself, you know,” he said. “After everything that happened with Elektra. But eventually…it becomes part of who you are.”

Karen’s article had come out the next day, the words pulsing with her anger, and by the day after it seemed everyone in New York had read it. Marci still wasn’t talking to Foggy too much, but she overheard her admitting she was impressed. Trish too raised hell over the radio. But the calls in from her listeners made clear how divided opinions remained. Two different people had even called Karen a liar. Trish was apparently now in an argument with her higher ups about having Karen herself come on. Karen had noted Trish’s was the only show she was currently willing to go on. “I don’t trust any other hosts not to ambush me right now,” she’d said.

It might not have been a bad thing for the four of them, for the attention to be on her. It was days Foggy and Marci could hammer out their motions without having to answer public questions about them, and Matt and Jennifer could do whatever they needed to do during them.

That Monday, there was another piece of good news, as charges against Sasha were officially dropped. She was almost amusingly exultant when she and Foggy met to settle things up, although at least Foggy managed to talk her out of a lawsuit she’d probably lose. She and Cheryl started what looked like it was going to be a peaceful lunch with their sandwiches laid out on her desk next to a bag of Doritos they would probably squabble over when it got close to empty. They talked talked about the latest office gossip, which, as always, included plenty of stories about the three partners vying against each other.

“Mary insists Chao wouldn’t move against Hogarth right now, not while the Forrest case is still going on,” Cheryl said. “But maybe we’d better hope that whole business with the Hargroves wraps up before that.”

“It won’t,” Foggy sighed. “Not unless they take the plea bargain. Which they really shouldn’t, when they did nothing wrong.” She had to complain about that whenever she could, because Jeri got annoyed when she did so around her.

“It’s not the best offer right now anyway, is it?” said Cheryl. “You really should tell Jeri that actually, it does matter whether you’re righteous or not, if only because…”

A knock on the door interrupted her. Cheryl sighed, and was moving to get up, when they heard Marci’s cautious, “Foggy?”

“I’ll get it,” said Foggy, jumping up, because this definitely sounded like something had just happened.

She opened the door to a Marci who looked too wary. Cheryl could see it too, from across the room, and asked, “Okay, Ms. Stahl, what has she done wrong this time?”

Marci shook her head, but her expression didn’t change. “Have you seen the latest piece of news involving the Watchdogs?” At Foggy’s confused no, she said, “Six of them have just been found dead in an alley, shot, laid out with their masks right next to them. I don’t know if anyone’s asked Karen to identify them, or if she even would be able to, but…”

Foggy didn’t try to mask her shock, but she knew she was concealing much indeed, when she only said, “You don’t think any of us would have done that, do you, Marce?”

“Well,” Marci started, “I know it’s not even Daredevil’s style…”

“That it isn’t,” Foggy said, her anger with her rising back up. “And maybe Karen hasn’t even been their most recent target. Maybe they met their deaths at the hands of whoever was. Maybe it’s not even them. You don’t know.”

“I suppose,” said Marci. “And no, I don’t think any of the three of you would ever have voluntarily had anything to do with this, or even Daredevil…I just think the whole thing’s…”

“It kind of is,” Foggy conceded. “But let’s wait on the facts. Maybe this will sort itself out.”

Maybe indeed it would, and she, Matt, and Karen would have to try to convince the world that they’d been as in the dark as everyone else. It was hard enough right now, not blurting out to Marci and Cheryl that actually, she knew exactly what had just happened. She really should’ve been more careful what she’d wished for the previous week.

#marvel cinematic universe #Daredevil #matt x foggy #foggy nelson #matt murdock #karen page #marci stahl #mitchell ellison

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leakinghate · 6 years

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Do you think there is any chance for lotura now, when we've just seen romantical teasing of Allurance that can be foreshadowing? (If it's so, showrunners go to hell)

Hello Anon,

Yes. I do believe there is still a very legitimate hope for Lotura to be endgame.

I was going to take some time to mull things over and plan before making a post. But, you took the time to ask, so here are my thoughts.

*ahem*

Lotura is Endgame, Y’all can Fight Me

In for a penny, in for a pound, eh?

I cannot promise you 100% that Lotura will happen, but there are two things I know, and that I can promise with reasonable asurridy. One, allurance is not going to be endgame. It may happen for a episode or two; but it’s not going to work out.

Two, Lotor will be returning, and as an eventual ally to boot.

Let's tackle our rival ship problem first.

Lance’s character arc has always been about him maturing to a point where he can believe in himself and grow some self confidence. He’s a classic case of a young man insecure about his place in the world overcompensating in an effort to make sure no one else notices it. He’s probably struggling with imposter syndrome, though I doubt he’d recognize it as that. The ironic thing, is that he’s so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t notice his team’s genuine appreciation of his talents and friendship. He’s the emotional support of the team, and possesses a genuine talent for leadership and calm headedness that even Keith is shown to struggle with. Despite flying the Red Lion now, he’s still obviously a Blue Paladin at heart.

The fandom’s perception that Lance hasn’t had an arc is because his arc is a long one, and it’s not going to pay off completely until near the end. Hunk’s arc was early, and his most dramatic developments took place in season one. Pidge’s arc happened in fits and starts, but was obvious and telegraphed from the beginning - it also focused on tangible goals rather than personal growth. Shiro and Keith’s arcs were intertwined, and formed much of the backbone of the show - when one wasn’t in focus the other was. Allura is the central character of Voltron, and her arc won’t be over until the show itself is - her arc is the plot of VLD itself.

Lance’s arc is slow, and has tackled small bits of his character development at a time. It’s always been about his self confidence, but it started from the outside-in. Beginning in season one with his jealousy of keith over the other’s physical abilities and natural talent in areas Lance wished to accomplish. Moving on through developing security in his value as a team member and place among the paladins. Finally, we have yet to tackle his emotional security.

Lance desires romantic attention. He thinks that he’s in love with Allura, but he really isn’t. He’s in love with the idea of her. Her beauty, her personality, her position, even her seeming unattainability - all things that attract Lance to her, but attraction does not a stable relationship make.

I’ve said it before, several times, so I’ll be brief. Lance and Allura’s life goals, positions, interests, and lifespans are not compatible. Lance wants to be with his family on Earth - a major component of his characterization is his family inclination and homesickness - he’s very young with no political experience and has shown no inclination to gaining any, he’s dismissive of and uninterested in Altean culture, and his human life expectancy is unlikely to exceed 100 years. By contrast, Allura is the last remaining Altean royal, and one of only two Alteans who remember what life on Altea was like. She’s going to want to be in space with the recently revealed still living survivors of her people. She’s the leader of the coalition and the owner of Voltron, she has countless populated planets to oversee and diplomatic negotiations to attend to. Her culture is precious to her, and she values it highly. And her lifespan is likely at least 1000+ years - Coran, a non-magical Altean, is at least 600 years old and appears to be only slightly older than a middle aged human equivalent.

And she’s only a few weeks, a month or two at most out from a very nasty breakup.

Allura is absolutely still in love with Lotor - you can’t just turn off loving someone like flipping a switch. It takes time - a lot of time in many cases, and it takes processing, and dealing with those emotions.

It may be, that Lance and Allura attempt a relationship for a few episodes, but it’s not going to work out.

As Lance is faced with the prospect/reality of getting what he thinks he wants, his character development in other areas is going to come to the fore. He’s going to be aware of and have to deal with the realities of having a relationship with the Altean Princess, and realize how very incompatible they actually are. There is a very good reason that Lance’s realization about his feelings towards Allura happened in the B-plot of s6e2, ‘Razor’s Edge’. The episode in which the A-plot revolved around the impossibility of a relationship between a human man and an alien woman. VLD likes it’s parallels, that wasn’t an accident.

He’s also going to realize that he deserves to be more than somebody’s second choice. Lance deserves more than being a rebound - and he knows that now, even if he hasn’t expressed it.

Because that’s what’s going on here.

Allura’s sudden apparent reciprocation of Lance’s feelings this season feels like a rebound because it is a rebound!

Allura felt very off this season, and that’s almost definitely because she's still really shook up over what happened with Lotor.

She's NOT okay, and that hasn't been dealt with.

It will be, next season. But she was in focus in a major way the last two seasons, so she had to take a back seat this one so she could get focus for the end. It's the same reason why Keith was in the background for several seasons before stepping back up in s6 and s7. And it's why Lotor was such a late addition to the cast. He's a huge plot mover in s3-6 (arc #2), and he will be again next season. So he was absent from 1-2 (arc #1), and again from 7 (the first half of arc #3). Same as why Haggar was absent this season, it's about balance.

I was majorly sketched out by the few little out-of-nowhere allurance moments.

But I think, that it's supposed to come across as odd, and uncomfortable, and abrupt.

Because I think it's ultimately leading up to Lance turning down Allura.

He's going to realize that she doesn't actually care about him romantically. She's hurt and lonely, and feeling like she failed her team for falling for Lotor. So she's overcompensating, and trying to force herself into liking Lance. Because he's there, and he likes her, he’s dependable and safe. So when she’s desperate to move on and salve the pain? She kinda feels like she owes it to him to give him a chance.

Allura has lost almost everything. Her people, her culture, her planet, her father - twice! Last season she lost the castle, after just barely snatching it from the metaphorical jaws of death she then has to voluntarily blow it up to save the universe. She lost Lotor - the person she’d fallen in love with, who she’d connected with and come to rely on - and she had to ‘kill’ him with her own ship.

Her people, that she only just learned weren’t entirely wiped out, have vanished without a trace before she even gets to see them.

By the end of season 7 she’s lost all that was left of her castle, her crown, and even the clothes on her back. She’s been stripped of her distinctive cultural clothing and garbed in the generic military uniform of an alien people.

It’s no coincidence that she didn’t begin ‘reciprocating’ Lance’s feelings until they arrived on Earth - where she was even more isolated without her lion and Voltron. She’s feeling so incredibly lonely and is looking for comfort and love anywhere she can find it.

It can’t work out though, for all the reasons we've already identified.

There was zero flirting this season, and other than the weird blush there was NOTHING.

Contrast that with the solid two seasons of beautiful and mutual Lotura buildup - even more, some would argue, if you consider Allura and Lotor’s clash in s3e3 ‘The Hunted’ as foreshadowing.

The biggest things for me. Is that nothing happened to prompt Allura to see Lance in a new light. We go from her irritation at him in e4, to neutral, average team members, to a sudden blush in e10, and lion-look-framing in e13.

And amidst it all Lance still managed to manipulate the situation to get himself alone with a pretty girl. It backfired on him pretty spectacularly when Romelle turned out to be far more rambunctious than he could handle, but that doesn’t change the fact that he chose the passenger arrangement. This is long after his apparent realization of ‘loving’ Allura, and pretty handily demonstrates that Lance isn’t really ready for a long-term commitment.

So are Lance and Allura being set up for endgame?

Nah. There's something else happening here.

Especially when it was twice emphasized this season how Allura got them into that mess by getting them close to Lotor. Nevermind that it wasn’t the team’s friendship and alliance with Lotor that fucked them over, but the Paladin’s betrayal of him.

But we're still waiting for the other shoe to drop there.

We haven't had the big emotional Allura moment that’s been alluded to, and we haven't had Keith still having a lesson yet to learn.

Referring back to VLD’s pattern for character prominence, we should expect Lance to fade out towards the second half of next season, since he had major POV framing in this season and the last one.

If what I think is going to happen actually happens, Lance should be dealing with his romantic issues at the start of next season to complete his arc. I’d imagine it will be in the first few episodes of season 8 that this will happen. This should line up with Lotor's return to the story, and thus trigger the 'cool story arc' we were promised with both of them.

This brings us to our next point: Lotor’s return.

We already have confirmation that Lotor is alive in the rift - Rhys, Coran’s VA, let that slip during an interview at SDCC. And if he’s alive, he’s going to be returning.

But as an ally? Maybe not at first, but eventually.

I found it interesting that Lotor was never once brought up this season in conversation with people who didn’t already know about him and about the Paladin’s fight with him.

Even when it would be logical to do so.

When briefing the Garrison. Sam Holt, who was exchanged with Lotor as a hostage and was present on the castle ship during the Kral Zera, specifies that Zarkon is dead but never mentions that Lotor is now - as far as he knows - ruling the main Empire force.

Lotor was an ally of Voltron when Sam returned to Earth. The biggest, most powerful ally they had. They were present on the castle at the same time, and even if they didn’t interact it’s impossible that Sam wouldn’t have been aware of Lotor’s existence and position as the new Galra Emperor.

Why not mention that Voltron had a huge swath of Zarkon’s former empire allied with them?

Because it would necessitate explaining the fallout when the paladins did eventually reach Earth. So? Why not do that? That’s two to three lines of dialogue, and would serve in-show to heighten the drama for our Earth based characters, who might have been hoping for aid from the other half of the empire.

Why specifically leave the position of Emperor in limbo? Why not have Sendak officially assume command?

There’s no reason in story to have things be that way.

So there must be a narrative reason.

The only thing I can think of?

Narratively speaking, they’re avoiding tarnishing Lotor’s reputation in the wider universe. The only people who know what happened in that fight? The paladins. And they left his throne unclaimed, so that he can take it on his return.

It’s the reputation thing that really cinches it for me. There is only so much time, only 13 episodes left in the series, and it would be nonsensical to waste a decent portion of it on doing damage control for Lotor when what’s ideal for the stability of the wider universe is to return to the way things stood at the beginning of season 6; with Lotor in control of the the Galra Empire, and the Coalition - and Voltron - allied with him.

At the beginning of season six the only outstanding major threats were Haggar and Sendak’s Fire of Purification, Haggar is obviously our final arc antagonist, and hey! Wouldn’t you know it? Guess who just just got offed? Sendak.

There is no damn reason to preserve Lotor’s standing with the coalition forces. Except if he’s to return as an ally. Especially when everybody should be asking for explanations of where they’ve been. But they don’t. For a reason.

So will Lotura be endgame?

I believe so.

They’ve said before that they crafted Lotor’s character to be someone Allura could relate to and find comfort in. They redesigned him, literally made him for her.

Every one of our characters in VLD has had to suffer terribly throughout the course of the show. So far though, Lotor and Allura are unique among focus characters in that their suffering has been without respite, recourse, or reward. They have both lost everything.

At the end of s7 Allura does not even own the clothes on her back, and it's doubtful that Lotor is even in control of his own mind anymore.

They literally have nothing left to lose.

They’ve been stripped bare of everything that has ever mattered to them.

So perhaps they can find peace, for themselves and others, by giving themselves to each other.

The love between an Altean Alchemist and the Galra Emperor started the war 10,000 years ago, it’s only fitting that love between another Altean Alchemist and Galra Emperor end it.

#Lotura #Lotor #Allura #Lance #vld #voltron legendary defender #vld s7 #vld s7 spoilers #voltron spoilers #Hate tries to Meta #asks answered #Anonymous

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vicioushyperbolizer · 5 years

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Ummmmmmm 37, 55, 66, 82, or 94 for either clintcolson, stony, stucky, stiles/derek, zimbits, derek/nursey. (I did not realize how many fandoms we have in common....)

all the ships. but honestly though, there’s basically nobody i don’t ship in the fandoms i’m in, and i have a tendency to wander into outside those fandoms, so I have my fingers into just about everything. I liked these so much that I started writing a second one, actually, so keep your eyes out for that post!

prompt: "You overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we've never spoken before" (thanks @veronicabunchwrites), ship: stony.

Tony checked his watch and groaned. How was it still not 10pm? And why did he make that stupid agreement with Pepper that he would stay at the Stark Industries holiday party until then? Oh, right, repayment for the PR disaster that was the Halloween Bash. How was he supposed to know that the mayor was afraid of pigeons?

He tossed the last of his drink back and headed to the bar for a refill; he was way too sober for all the schmoozing and feet kissing. At least he knew the bar had the good stuff, since it was his party and all. No use skimping on the booze when it was literally the only good thing about the whole bullshit event.

He nearly made it to the bar without being stopped, which was practically a miracle (but not actually, since they weren’t a real thing), but he was interrupted by Mrs Horrible III just steps away. Tony could practically taste the smoky, well-aged scotch that was waiting especially for him. He had to play nice to the stockholders, though, or Pep would have his balls (and he was pretty attached to them, physically and emotionally). He managed to make it a full 3 minutes into her blathering before he zoned out, rattling the ice cube in his still-empty glass (couldn’t the foul woman get the hint?)

Instead of listening to the way she went on disdainfully about how it was “such a shame that today’s society couldn’t appreciate the need for well-made weapons”, and that she understood the company had to keep relevant, but she “certainly felt safer when Stark weaponry was protecting Americans,” (because he was pretty sure that maiming guests would go against the ‘be nice’ directive), Tony let his eyes drift across the large and ridiculously over-decorated room to look for The Guy.

Tony had seen him almost the second he walking in (fashionably late), which sounded like such cliched romantic bullshit, but hey, he couldn't change the facts. That was why they were facts. The Guy was hovering nervously around the gigantic Menorah. He was small, smaller than almost everyone around him, but there was a fierce cut to his eyes that made him look like he was ready to drop his champagne glass and fight anyone who so much as looked his way. And boy, could Tony appreciate that sentiment.

Almost as much as he could appreciate the ungodly glowing blue color of The Guy’s eyes, framed by glasses too big for his face, the crisp pressed khakis that somehow managed to make his legs look a mile long (when they were definitely not, like, at all), and the way his suspenders sat on narrow shoulders, pressing his dress shirt tightly to his thin torso.

And yeah, okay, maybe ogling the guests wasn’t exactly what Pep meant when she said ‘play nice’, but if it kept him out of trouble, how could it be wrong?

His search was fruitless, though. Tony couldn’t see him anywhere. Which meant back to focusing on Mrs Horrible III, and oh hey look, her husband had joined in the conversation at some point.

-read more under the cut or here on AO3-

“-dear. I agree that it’s nice that Mr Stark is donating the proceeds to charity, I’m simply pointing out that I think the best thing for the community isn’t to placate the lazy. No offense of course, Tony.”

Yeah, nope. That was just about all he could take from the Terribles. He was about to interrupt and make an exit (or just walk away, because from the look of it, the two were snipping at each other so much they wouldn’t even notice), when he caught the thread of a conversation floating from somewhere behind him.

“Seriously, how did you even get invited? I see you weren’t important enough to warrant a plus one -- of course my date is around here somewhere. Or is it that you just couldn’t find anyone willing to be seen with you?”

The only thing that Tony hated more than the whimpering, sycophantic masses at these stupid events were the ones who were rude, mean, or downright cruel. The people who thought that getting their names printed on an SI invite meant they had some sort of status or power. They were the same people that controlled the company for far too long, making decisions based on selfishness and monetary gain. Tony was trying to ferret out every last one of them and put their names on a list so black they couldn’t even find work in the Antarctic. By the sounds of it, he had missed one.

Whoever the man was talking to was keeping up pretty well, though.

“You do realize that we used to date, right, and that you basically just insulted yourself more than you did me? And now here you are again, talking to me in the open, where anyone could see it. By all means, Brock,feel free to leave me alone before you taint your reputation or whatever.”

Sarcastic remarks in that oh-my-gorgeous voice? The Guy might have a run for his money.

“Yeah, sure we dated, but everyone knew that I was just slumming it for a fuck. I mean, why do you think I agreed to spend all of my time with you at your white trash friend’s run down, piece of shit bar? Really though, whose dick did you have to suck to get in here?”

And that was just about as much of that as Tony could take. He interrupted Mr Terrible in the middle of what he was sure was a racist, xenophobic, or classist rant.

“Well! Your views were certainly enlightening. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to make the rounds.”

He didn’t wait for a response before he turned around and started walking away, eyes searching for the voices that he overheard. Because “making the rounds” definitely meant sticking his nose where it didn’t belong (probably at the expense of a very high end pair of heels and grovelling).

Tony was pretty sure his brain short circuited a little, when his eyes landed on The Guy and a very large, brutish looking man (sanding way too close, in Tony’s opinion).

Okay, he was positive his brain had short circuited, because there was no other reason why he would decide to stride straight up to them, throw his around around The Guy’s thin shoulders, and say with a wide grin, “Well, that would be me, of course!”

Oh, God. Pepper wasn’t going to want shoes, she was going to want his head on a platter. That was, of course, if The Guy didn’t kill him first, because Tony could feel the Death-Murder beams directed straight at the side of his head. Well, no going back now.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to he Guy’s quickly flushing (embarrassment? rage?) cheek. “I thought I lost you, Snookums. Luckily i needed a refill or I wouldn’t have found you.”

Bit-Tall-and-Stupid looked a shade paler than he had before, quickly taking two steps back so that he wasn’t in their personal space anymore (since Tony had also invaded The Guy’s personal space, but hopefully in a more helpful and acceptable way).

“Oh! Mr Stark! I didn’t… of course. What a small world. How, um, how did you and Steve meet?”

Hey, cool, The Guy had a name! Now if only he knew literally anything else so that he could make up a somewhat believable story as to how they could have met, one good enough that his ex wouldn’t question it.

“How we met? Man, it’s a great story. You won’t even believe it, let me tell you. See, Steve and I met because --”

“Ms Potts commissioned me to do the new artwork in the Stark Tower lobby. Tony liked it so much that he wanted me to make some art for his penthouse. He and Ms Potts thought they could help me get more high profile clients if i came here.”

God bless Steve. And, huh, Tony could vaguely recognize some parts of the story being true, even. He was pretty sure that Steve was lying about the art in the lobby thing because he had never seen any art there, ever (but it did sound like something Pepper would do, and tony wasn’t the most observant person), but a new painting had suddenly appeared in his living room. It was some sort of trompe l’oeil style painting of the internal view of an arc reactor. It was… actually incredibly well thought out and beautiful. Sure, it might just look like a boring view of metal bits to someone else, but to him it was exactly what he wanted to commemorate the transition of Stark Industry into a renewable energy corporation (and his own transition into a new person, but nobody needed to know that he had that level of introspection).

He winked haughtily and pulled Steve more firmly against his side. “What can I say, I like a man who’s good with his hands.”

Steve snorted into his champagne glass. That was cute, why was it so damn cute? He drained it and elbowed Tony in the ribs (hard, ow, pointy elbows. But he probably deserved it, so he would forgive Steve).

“Why don’t we say goody to Brock and go get that refill, hm, doll ?”

Oh, Tony likey. He would gladly follow a sarcastic, attractive man towards alcohol. But he had one teensy tiny thing to do first.

“Well, I would love to, sweet cheeks, but before we do that… I was just wondering something about Brock here.” He looked from Steve (blue eyes, so blue, so hard to look away) to The Other Guy. “Why are you here at this party?”

The Other Guy looked back wide-eyed. He stumble over his answer for a second before he collected himself, shoulders pushed back, chest forward, head held high. Ah, false self confidence, the safety blanket of the mediocre “alpha male” (because Tony would bet his entire garage that Brock would refer to himself as an alpha male).

“I was recently hired as the head of security for the building. And as you know, all senior staff were invited, of course.”

That’s what Tony got for agreeing to delegate the hiring for non-science departments.

“Head of building security you say? Well, i’ll make sure to get that job posting relisted as soon as i leave here tonight.” He waved over one of the uniforms lining the perimeter of the room, a safety measure that Tony had objected to until now. “If you could escort this gentleman out, please. I’m pleased to say that he’s no longer an employee of Stark Industries.”

Brock stuttered and argued, trying to fight against the officer who had grabbed his elbow firmly. Tony smirked as they cut through the crowd toward the exit. Beautiful justice.

When they were through the grand double doors and out of sight, he looked down at Steve with a wide grin on his face.

Steve had an eyebrow raised and a hand on his hip, wearing an expression that could either mean that Tony had fucked up or he was about to get laid. Or both. Tony really hoped that it was both. Hot stranger hate hookup? Oh yeah.

With a flick of his pink tongue and sweeping eyes, Steve licked his lips and slowly looked Tony up and down (please say hookup, please say hookup, please say hookup). He moved the hand from his hip and dragged it down Tony’s silk tie, which was so incredibly hot, wow. When he reached the top button of Tony’s waistcoat, Steve pulled his tie out and then yanked on it, pulling Tony into a heated kiss.

Steve’s lips and tongue were steaming hot and domineering. He forced his way into Tony’s mouth in no seconds flat, licking and biting and sucking like his life depended on it (or like was really, really enjoying himself, which Tony desperately hoped was the case). Tony tried to keep up (there was basically chance of giving as good as he got), but he could feel his knees going weak and he had to catch himself before he dropped the empty tumbler still in his hand. Oh fuck yeah.

When Steve finally pulled away (because there was no way in hell that Tony was moving back first, holy shit), he grinned wickedly at Tony.

“I’m not usually this easy, and I’m not going to go easy on you about pulling that little stunt, but getting my abusive ex kicked out after you fired him from his dream job? Plus, you’re wearing that suit very nicely. What’s say you go get me another drink and see where the evening goes. Maybe I’ll be convinced to show you just how good my hands really are.”

Tony glanced at his watch again. 9:24pm. Pepper would just have to deal with him leaving early. He had a strong-willed, extremely talented, incredibly attractive man (and a good kisser, did he mention the good kisser bit?) to woo. He held an elbow out to escort Steve to the bar.

“I’ll take you up on that.”

#writing #my writing #prompt fill #stony #steve/tony #holiday fluff #holiday prompt #Anonymous #answered asks

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