#decided i’m not entertaining Shit despite how disgusted i am at the very thought of them roping a

[causticsunshine]

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[fanmoose12]

Hange was crunched over her laptop, typing furiously - it was probably another strong worded letter to one of their associates. If nerves weren't currently eating him up, Levi would have found the scene in front of him amusing. But as the case was, he was barely able to keep it together. He tried to distract himself, looking around Hange’s office. Even though, it was only the beginning of December, she was already in a festive spirit. There was a small Christmas tree on her table, and on her wardrobe hung a string of Christmas lights. Hange adored Christmas, so it was no surprise that she was getting ready for it so early.

Levi glanced back - thankfully, everyone else had already left the office. At least, no one would see him stare at Hange like he was some kind of a creep. It was bad enough that some interns jumped away from him in hallways.

There was nothing to be worried about, though. He just needed to ask Hange a small question. She was his best friend, there was nothing scary in asking your best friend a question. Besides, Hange probably wouldn't even accept his invitation. Knowing her, she received dozens offers already. She'd apologize and refuse, Levi would wave her off and then they'd forget about this incident altogether.

Just like they’ve forgotten about last year's incident.

Yes. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

Levi straightened his shirt, fixed his tie and took a deep breath. And then finally— he knocked on the door.

"Yes!" Hange shouted. "Come in!"

"Oh, it's you," she said, as Levi walked inside. "I thought it was janitor coming to kick me out again," Hange laughed at her own joke.

The smile turned into a frown, as soon as she saw the look on Levi’s face.

“Is… everything alright?” she spoke gently, getting to her feet and coming to stand beside Levi. She tilted her head, looking at him worriedly. “You look kinda tense.”

Levi lowered his head, hiding his eyes behind the hair. “It’s… my mother,” he managed finally.

“Your mother?” behind the lenses of her glasses, Hange’s eyes widened. “Did something happen to her? What can I do to—”

“She’s fine,” Levi quickly assured her. He wasn’t going to tell it to her, of course, but Hange’s concern warmed his heart. “She just…” he cleared his throat and looked up at her, staring straight in her eyes. “She invited you over for a dinner. At Christmas.”

“Christmas?” she scratched the back of her head in confusion. “Are you asking me to spend Christmas with you?”

“My mom asks you,” Levi corrected. “But yeah. You don’t have to agree, though! If you have other plans already, it’s more than fine. She’ll understand. No hard feelings whatsoever.”

“Are you kidding me?” Hange beamed. “Christmas with Ackermans? How can I possibly refuse? Besides,” she elbowed him in a side with a mischievous look. “It’s not every day that Levi Ackerman—”

“My mom—”

“Invites me over to a Christmas party. Don’t worry, shorty,” Hange reached out and ruffled his hair. For some weird reason - probably because he let Hange get away with literally anything - he let her assault his immaculate haircut too. “Of course, I’ll come.”

“Great,” and Levi actually meant it. Despite, the fiasco during the last year’s Christmas party, he was looking forward to spending this Christmas with Hange by his side. “Now, c’mon, it’s almost nine pm. Get your shit, four-eyes.”

“Huh? Levi, are you offering me—”

“A ride home?” he scoffed. “Yes, I do, Hange. Or have you fixed your car already?”

Hange chuckled sheepishly. “I keep forgetting about that… you know how it is.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, I do. So hurry up before I change my mind.”

“I’m on it, Captain!” she dashed to her desk, getting her bag and phone. Then Hange went to the wardrobe and took out her coat. She hastily put it on and haphazardly wrapped a scarf around her neck. “And I’m ready!” she announced proudly.

Levi tsked. “You’re such a mess,” he pulled her closer and fixed the wrapping of a scarf, making sure that it covered Hange’s neck completely. “There,” he patted her arm. “Now, you’re ready.”

“Thanks, dad,” Hange giggled and started to lead the way. “So, who else is going to be at the party?”

“You, my mom, Kenny—”

“Oh, your uncle?” she rubbed her hands together with a sly smile. “I like him! He’s so much fun!”

Levi huffed. “Just be careful around him, four-eyes. Or he’ll get you involved in some of his shady shit.”

“There is no need to be jealous,” she teased.

“Keep dreaming.”

“And that’s it?” Hange asked. “Your father—”

“Fuck no,” Levi replied instantly. “Kenny is more than enough to fill the asshole’s quota.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, amusement written all over her face. “So your uncle’s an asshole, huh? Didn’t he raise you, though? You know what they say – an apple doesn’t fall far—”

“Oi,” Levi interrupted, before more shit came out of her mouth. “I may be too straightforward sometimes, and sometimes I’m a little harsh and can come off as rude, but I’m nothing like Kenny.”

“If it helps you sleep at night,” Hange patted his shoulder with a sympathetic look.

“Shut up, four eyes,” scowling, he gave her a light shove.

“Ah!” Hange suddenly exclaimed, spinning around. “Christmas with Ackermans! I’m already looking forward to it!”

“Weirdo,” Levi commented, desperately fighting to keep an affectionate smile off his face.

“You’re saying it as if you aren’t the same,” Hange giggled. “Admit it, Levi. You’re as much of a weirdo as I am. That’s why we’re so compatible.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, refusing to even entertain the idea. “Hurry up by the way. It’s late already, I don’t want to spend the whole night with your crazy ass.”

“Oh, Levi?” Hange put on an innocent look on her face, twirling a stray lock of her hair. “Can we stop to eat somewhere, please?”

Levi gave her a flat look. “Your fringe is empty again?”

“I just forgot to do the groceries…” she mumbled.

“Fine,” Levi sighed. “We’ll make a stop. But we’re going to my favorite place. Those disgusting burgers you love so much make me want to puke.”

“Let’s eat your boring soup then.”

“My boring soup is healthy. It won’t give you an atherosclerosis.”

“I need another favor from you…”

He groaned. “Let me guess, you forgot your wallet again?”

Hange shrugged with a smile. Levi cursed.

“Alright, I’ll pay for you. But it’s the last time, four-eyes,” he warned with a stern face.

With a smile still on her face, Hange nodded. They both knew that Levi was lying.

“Wait,” Levi said, as they neared the front door of the building. He turned to face Hange, eyeing her critically. “Where are your gloves?”

Hange rolled her eyes, but obediently opened her bag and started rummaging through her things. “Aha!” she exclaimed a couple of moments later, proudly showing Levi a couple of gloves. “Here they are!”

“Put them on,” Levi instructed, walking outside and heading towards his car. “And let’s leave this place, before the café closes.”

“Coming!” Hange shouted, following after Levi with a wide grin.

***

It was a Christmas Day already, and Levi was standing on a porch of his mother's house, waiting for Hange to show up. Knowing his friend, she would be late for at least ten minutes, so Levi leaned against the door, debating if he should go back inside to get his pack of cigarettes. His mother hated when he smoked, but it was going to be a stressful day, Levi knew it. Even without the memories of his last Christmas, nagging at him, there was Kenny he had to deal with, and the relationship between him and his uncle was at the very least, strained. If he wished to end this evening without strangling Kenny, Levi needed a lot more than just one cigarette.

However, before he could decide, he saw Hange at the other end of a street. She was walking with a spring in her step, dangling a couple of bags in her hands.

Levi crossed hands on his chest, watching her approach.

"What is this shit?" he pointed to the bags she was carrying.

"Presents!" she grinned widely.

“Presents?”

"Yes! For you, your mother and uncle."

Levi didn't drop the look of skepticism. "There are four bags."

"Of course, silly," Hange shook her head. "I've got two presents for you."

"Two?" Levi frowned. "Why two? I got only one for you."

"Well, it's not my fault your birthday is on Christmas," Hange complained. "Speaking of!" she spread her hands, "it's time for a hug, birthday boy!"

Levi cringed. "Is there a way to avoid it?"

"No!" Hange announced cheerfully. "C'mon, I'm waiting!"

Levi sighed, but obliged and came closer, letting Hange wrap her hands around him. She hummed happily, nuzzling his cheek.

"Ah, that was a good one," she said, as she took a step back, releasing Levi. He, however, couldn’t agree with her statement. It was a good hug, but it ended too quickly for his liking. Well, it wasn't like he could ask Hange to repeat it. She would agree, of course, but his reputation would suffer tremendously.

"Goddamn it, four-eyes," Levi scowled, when he took a good look on Hange's hands. "How many times do I have to remind you about the gloves?"

He grabbed her red and freezing palms in his, softly rubbing them. "Let's get inside, before you freeze to death."

"You worry too much," Hange rolled her eyes, but didn't try to shake Levi off and let him lead her inside.

The moment they crossed the threshold, Kuchel was already standing in front of the door, smiling from ear to ear. Levi awkwardly let go of Hange's hands and took a step back, allowing his mother to welcome her.

"You came!" Kuchel laid her hands onto Hange's shoulders, kissing both of her cheeks. "I'm so happy to see you, my dear!" she took a step back and faced Levi, giving him a stern gaze. “And you told Hange wouldn’t accept our invitation. You should bring her over more often.”

Levi looked down, mumbling something so quietly, neither Hange, nor Kuchel were able to catch it.

Watching the scene in front of her, seeing an embarrassed Levi, who was just scolded by his mother, Hange couldn’t help – she doubled over with laughter.

“Sorry!” she raised a hand, still chuckling. “I’m just— Levi looks so much like you, Mrs. Ackerman, it’s adorable!”

“Ah,” Kuchel smiled, reaching out to ruffle Levi’s hair. “He was always his mother’s boy.”

Levi groaned, desperately trying to hide his red face from Hange’s amused gaze. “Can you two please stop humiliating me?”

“And here she is!” Levi had never wanted the Earth to swallow him more than he did in this exact moment. He recognized that deep, booming voice instantly. “The only person who can tolerate my dear nephew!” Kenny walked out of the room to welcome them.

That infuriating smirk was already plastered on his face, and Levi cursed under his breath. It would be a very long evening.

“Hange, my darling!” Kenny took a step closer, meaning to take Hange by the hand. Levi was instantly by her side, glaring at his uncle.

“Watch your hands, old man,” he spoke darkly.

Kenny whistled. “Someone’s jealous, huh?”

Before Levi could retaliate and come up with another insult, his mother came to stand between them, wearing an annoyed expression on her face.

“Stop it, boys,” she sighed. “Kenny, don’t pick up on Levi, and you, Levi,” Kuchel shook her head. “Be nice for once, alright?”

“Yes,” Kenny and Levi answered in unison. Kuchel beamed.

“Now you two take your coats and shoes off and then join us in the living room. Hange?” Kuchel turned to her. “You’ll stay the night with us, right?”

“I…” Hange scratched her neck, unsure.

“Stay,” Levi whispered, nudging her in the side. “Mom already prepared the guest room.”

“I guess I have no choice then,” she grinned. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Ackerman.”

“Don’t mention,” Kuchel waved her off. “And please, call me just Kuchel. Levi talks so often about you, I feel like you’re a part of our family.”

“Ah, a-alright,” Hange stared at Levi, but he turned his face another way, stubbornly refusing to meet her eyes. His mother was exaggerating, he didn’t talk about Hange that much.

Kuchel sent them another warm smile, and then left to the kitchen.

"Aw," Hange pouted as soon as Levi took off his coat.

"What's wrong now?"

"You're wearing a simple shirt and cardigan.”

"And?" Levi prompted, feeling his patience go thin.

"Why not a Christmas sweater?" Hange clasped her hands, frustrated.

Levi looked at Hange's bright red sweater with a big reindeer right in the center of it. "No thanks," he mumbled. "My eyes hurt just looking at the monstrosity you're wearing."

"It's called fashion, Levi, you should look it up sometimes."

"Says a person, who can wear the same shirt for two weeks in a row. By the way," Levi outstretched his hand. "Give me it."

"Give you what?"

"My present, four-eyes, give it to me."

"A-ah," Hange resolutely shook her head. "Wait until midnight."

Levi gritted his teeth in frustration. "Fine, you can keep the other one, but you have two presents. Give me the one for my birthday."

"Nope."

"Hange, today is my birthday, I deserve to receive my birthday gift."

"Have some patience, will you? I'll give it to you at midnight."

"Why can't you—"

"Let's go!" Hange pushed him forward, leading him away from the presents. "Your family is already waiting for us."

***

As Levi watched Hange chat with his mother and uncle, sharing jokes and stories about him, he couldn't help but wonder - could it be that Hange actually forgot about the incident that had happened last year? It was the only possible explanation, she was so calm, so nonchalant, while he was practically brimming with nervous energy, trying to think about literally anything to distract himself from the awkward memories.

Noticing his stare, Hange smiled and winked at him, before resuming her story about Levi's meeting with investors. She wasn't nervous in a slightest and Levi decided to follow her example. If Hange was unbothered, what reason did he have to panic? If she didn't remember the events of last Christmas, he should try to forget about it too. *** "Hange, honey, come here," Kuchel beckoned, interrupting Hange's conversation with Kenny. "There is something I want you to see."

"Oh," as soon as Hange saw what Kuchel was holding out to her, she rubbed her hands in anticipation. "Is it what I think it is?"

Kuchel nodded, wearing the same giddy expression as Hange. "It's our family photo album."

Levi, who just came back from the bathroom, felt his heart drop. His mother wouldn't dare...

"Mom, it's my birthday," he reminded, sitting down next to her. "You can't embarrass me at my birthday."

"But Levi," Kuchel pouted. "I'm not embarrassing you! I just want to show Hange, how cute you were as a child."

"Yeah," Kenny chimed in. "She needs to see what your face looked like before you got a severe case of constipation."

"Shut up," Levi hissed, glaring daggers at his uncle.

Meanwhile, Hange was already opening the album...

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed delightfully, staring at the first page. "Levi, you looked so cute! You were the most adorable baby ever!"

"He still is," Kuchel softly patted Levi's cheek.

Levi groaned, covering his face with a hand. It was the worst moment of his life.

"Look at this face!" Hange continued to coo. "And these pretty eyes!"

Levi's cheeks were on fire.

"Tell about this to anyone, four-eyes," he warned quietly, careful not to let his mother hear. "And you're dead, got it?"

"Of course," Hange smiled, amusement swirling in her gaze. "My lips are sealed."

 ***

As the evening progressed into the night, Kuchel excused herself, insisting that she needed to go and rest. Levi and Hange were sitting on a sofa in the living room and watching TV. As they were on the second part of Die Hard, Kenny left too, claiming that there was something he had to take care off. Начало формы

“He’s definitely up to something unlawful,” Levi commented off-handedly as soon as Kenny closed the door after himself.

“Oh?” Hange grinned, muting the TV. “What do you think he’s going to do? Rob someone? Murder?”

“I don’t care,” Levi replied. “And you shouldn’t care too. The lesser you know, the better.”

“You’re no fun,” she smacked his shoulder, before collapsing on his lap with a quiet giggle.

“Get off,” Levi complained. “I’m not your pillow.”

“But you’re warm,” Hange wiggled a little, taking a more comfortable position. “And soft.”

“Shut up,” he sighed, trying to ignore the pleasant feeling that appeared because of Hange’s words. “It’s almost midnight,” he nodded at the clock on the wall. “So get up and bring me my present.”

“Oh my,” Hange looked at him with a sly look. “You really can’t wait to receive it, huh?”

“Give it, four-eyes.”

“Fine!” she huffed, getting to her feet. “But I want to see my present too.”

“Hurry up!” Levi called after her.

He rose from the sofa and headed to his room, where Hange’s present was hidden. When he came to the living room, Hange was already sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree, wearing a wide, excited grin.

"My present," Hange demanded, reaching with her hand.

Sitting down next to her, Levi rolled his eyes and passed the package to her. Instantly, Hange started opening, tearing the paper like an overexcited child. Levi glared at the pile of paper on the floor, but Hange was too excited to notice his dark expression.

"Oh!" she breathed out, as soon as she saw the present. "Levi, is that—"

"Your hands are always cold," Levi explained, watching Hange try the new pair of gloves he got her. "I know it's not much, but..."

"No!" Hange protested, pressing the gloved palm to her chest. "They're perfect! So warm and soft!"

"Good," Levi let himself relax. "It's my first time doing something like this, so I was afraid—"

"Wait!" Hange shrieked, eyes wide. "You made them by yourself?"

"Yeah," Levi said with a frown. "It's a not a big deal, though. Knitting isn't so hard, so..."

"You've knitted the gloves for me..." Hange whispered with a big, dreamy smile on her face. She kept staring at the gloves like they were a damn miracle. Levi couldn't look away from her, as a warm feeling spread through his veins. He could never guess Hange would like his present that much.

"Thank you!" Hange wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer for a brief hug. "Well now!" she grinned, letting go of him. "It's time for your presents!"

“Finally,” Levi muttered.

Reaching behind her, Hange handed him the first package. "That's your Christmas present," she said softly.

Levi nodded, taking it from her hands and then carefully unwrapping. Once he was finished, he put the pieces of paper in a neat pile. Then, he looked at his present. It was a sweater, an exact copy of the one Hange was wearing right now, only slightly smaller and green, wherein Hange's was red.

"Matching sweaters!" Hange announced gleefully. "Put it on!"

Reluctantly - the sweater was kind of ugly - Levi put it over his shirt. He felt like an idiot, but the beam he received from Hange was making it kinda of worth it.

"You look really handsome," Hange noted, making Levi's heart skip a bit. "I should have gotten you reindeer antlers, though. They would have completed the look," she added, ruining the sentiment completely.

"Shut up," Levi grumbled. "How give me another one."

"I feel kinda stupid about it now," Hange began, fidgeting a little. The gesture was so uncharacteristic to her that Levi arched his eyebrow, looking at her in surprise. "Especially after your mother showed me a different one, and it contains cuter pictures," Hange smiled at that. "But, well, here. Happy birthday, Levi."

Levi greedily snatched the present from her and took off the wrapping paper. Inside there was a book - a photo album - Levi realized as he took a better look.

He opened the first page, and saw a picture of himself and Hange. Hange was smiling into the camera, one hand was making the piece sign, while the other was wrapped around his shoulders. His face was as emotionless as always, but there was a soft look in his eyes.

"I put our photo at the first page, because I know my face is your favorite," Hange teased with a sly smile.

Levi didn't answer - there was no need to confirm that Hange's words were actually true. Instead he turned the page. The next one showed him, Erwin, Mike and Nanaba, looking relaxed and slightly drunk. Hange obviously took this picture, since she wasn't in it. Then he saw a photo of him and Mike building a sand castle and after that a picture of him and Erwin, while they were playing Mario Kart on Erwin’s sofa. On the next page, there was a group shot of every employee of their firm. He, Erwin and Hange were stood at the center, with Erwin's arms on their shoulders. After that, it was a picture of Levi with their interns, Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Sasha and Connie. It was taken after they finished a seminar, Levi remembered. The kids were on cloud nine, since it meant that they could finally rest after a long and tiring weekend. They did well on the seminar, so when they asked for a picture with them, Levi just couldn't say no.

"You look like a proud dad here," Hange commented, leaning over his shoulder to look at the photo.

Levi let out a noncommittal grunt and continuing flipping over the pages. There was a lot more, almost three dozens of pages and each one showed a dear memory.

"I know that you like this stuff, keeping small mementos," Hange said. It was true - as much as Levi loved order and cleanliness, he also gathered all kinds of tickets, receipts and other small trinkets that reminded him of good memories. He kept all of them hidden in his desk drawer, though, so he was surprised that Hange knew about it.

"Thank you," he told her.

"You like it?"

"I love it," he confessed. He didn't say it often, probably had never actually said it out loud, but he valued, loved all of his friends. They were the best thing in his life. Of course, he couldn't say it now too. There was a reputation he had to uphold after all. "I've never seen a bigger collection of ugly faces."

Hange laughed then, throwing her head back. Levi watched her with a small smile.

"Happy birthday," she repeated, putting her head back on his lap.

Levi didn't protest this time, simply stared down at her. The Christmas lights were dancing across her face, making Hange look softer around the edges. Without thinking, Levi reached out to brush some hair out of her forehead. Hange smiled, looking up at him.

"Hey," she began. Levi nodded, motioning for her to continue. He stretched his hand, taking his teacup. "Do you remember last Christmas?"

The hand with a cup froze midair, as he stared at Hange with wide eyes. He thought she was going to launch in another lengthy and boring story, not bring this thing up.

"I don't," he answered stiffly, fighting the urge to get up and run. Hange shouldn't have known about this.

"You really don't?" Hange asked, disappointment in her voice. "We were at the party at Erwin's place, I had a bit too much eggnog and—"

And then she staggered out on a balcony, while Levi was having a smoke break. She was clearly drunk and a thought flashed in Levi's mind that he should bring her home or lay her down in one of Erwin's guest rooms, before she did something stupid. And that's what she did in the next moment. Something stupid. She snatched the cigarette from his hand and threw it away. Levi opened his mouth to reprimand her for that, but wasn't unable to actually say anything. Because Hange— Hange was kissing him. Before he could react to it in any way - push her away, bring her closer, entangle his hand in her hair - anything, Hange took a step back.

Whatever was reflecting on his face, Hange didn't like it. She pursed her lips in thought and a line formed between her eyebrows.

"That's not good," she said finally. "Just— just forget anything happen."

And just like that she was gone, giving Levi no time to respond and leaving him alone at a dark, cold balcony.

The next morning, she gave no indication that that kiss had ever happened.

"You do remember," Hange poked his cheek with a finger. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Then why the fuck have you asked?" the hand that wasn't holding a teacup, tightened into fist. What the fuck Hange wanted from him? She told him to forget, didn't she?

"I just wanted to— doesn't matter now," she looked away from him. "I've got my answer already.

Hange moved, trying to get up. Levi pressed on her shoulder, pushing her back.

"You were the one, who told me to forget it.”

"Because you clearly weren't interested!"

Levi frowned. "Who said that?"

"You!" Hange pointed a finger at him, almost hitting him in the nose.

Levi waved her hand away. "I've never said such thing."

"You didn't need to. Your face said it for you."

"I don't understand what you're talking about."

"You don't understand?" Hange huffed. "When I kissed you, you were scowling!"

Levi crossed hands on his chest. "That's how my face always looks like. You know it."

"You didn't kiss me back!" she accused.

"You didn't give me the time to do it!"

Hange felt silent after that. She kept looking at his face, as though searching for something there.

"Does it mean that... you wanted to kiss me?"

"Yes," Levi sighed. "For a very long time now."

"Oh," Hange's cheeks became an adorable shade of pink. "That's a bit unexpected. But... If I were to kiss you again—"

"I'd more than welcome it."

"Alright," she nodded, getting up. Hange leaned in, until their lips were almost touching. She glanced in his eyes, checking his reaction. Then she slowly moved closer, leaving a gentle kiss on his lips. She withdrew almost instantly, looking more than a little embarrassed.

"So," she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Did you like that?"

"It will take me some time to get used to it," Levi admitted.

"We can take it slow," Hange offered. "Would you like that?"

"Yeah," Levi agreed. "I would like that."

"C'mon then," Hange got to her feet and then held her hand out to Levi, helping him up as well. "Let's finish the movie."

He followed Hange back to the sofa and then resumed the movie. At first, he sat at the other end of sofa, deliberately putting some distance between them, in case Hange felt awkward. She rolled her eyes at the gesture, moving closer and laying her head on his thigh.

"Is this okay?" she asked, looking up.

"Yeah," Levi carefully put his hand on her shoulder and started rubbing it softly. "More than okay."

Hange smiled and turned her attention to the TV screen. Levi smiled back, staring down at her.

It was his best Christmas ever. Much better than the last one.

[gemmassong]

So uh. It’s 4:17am and I know literally no one cares but I just finished watching Bo Burnham’s new special and like, holy shit. I have some Feelings. And this is my fucking tumblr so unfortunately anyone who follows me can and will be subjected to those Feelings. Apologies in advance. I blame my high school English teacher for this, who I had for freshmen, junior, and senior year, because that cunt made as analyze and pick apart not just books but documentaries, movies, and other pieces of media to such an extreme degree I still blame her for a lot of my academic burnout and inability to really engage with my college courses because what was the fucking point. If I could write the best paper in the class and still not get a full score when my classmates with less well written shit did because I ‘wasn’t reaching my full potential or putting in as much effort as required’ why should I bother. 

Off topic. I’ll put the rest under a cut to be vaguely courteous because this is going to be a lot of semi-organized rambling that I’m putting here mostly so I can stare at it in baffled, disgusted horror at ~2pm tomorrow when I go back and reread it. And then decide not to delete it anyway because hey, I don’t delete anything because I enjoy tormenting myself years down the road.

I grew up with Bo Burnham, yeah? I knew all the lyrics to New Math when I was in middle school and you can bet your ass I understood like, four verses at the time I first started singing it. And I remember the vivid pleasure of going through high school and hating math because I suck at it (ayooo failed out of Calc senior year first semester~ (they weren’t called semesters in hs they were some quarterly thing but I don’t fucking remember the right term)) and the absolute joy realizing how one of those verses were clever was brought me. Like, every time I understood a new verse in New Math it made my entire day so much better. 

And then the summer after my first year of college I, for some fucking reason I cannot fathom now, 20 year old me thought it was a brilliant idea to decide to watch What. with my parents while we ate dinner. I had seen What. before. I knew what the contents entailed. I was apparently 100% down to watch him pretend to jack off on stage while eating taco salad in the living room with both of my parents who were so closed mouthed about sex that I got literally my entire sexual education from fanfiction. 

And then my cat had a seizure literally right before that scene so fate helped me escape that hell for some reason, and yes, Siren was fine after a very scary night.

But like. Still. What the fuck, 20 year old me. Why did you set yourself up for the mortifying experience of watching a comedian mime jacking off while sitting next to your mother. Why. 

So anyway. Bo Burnham was peripherally a part of my life for a very long time. I’ve always really liked him. I wish he had made more vines while vine was still a thing because the ‘is there anything better than pussy’ one still cracks me tf up. 

I saw a post here at some point about how the new special made someone feel like they’d just watched his suicide note. And I didn’t take it seriously, because yeah, Make Happy got kinda serious and stressful there at the end but like? 

Maaaaan am I glad I watched Inside though, despite being vaguely concerned. I totally get where that person was coming from. It does kinda feel like that. At the same time though, I just have this feeling that Inside is going to be important. 

Here’s where I finally get to the actual fucking point of the post.

Collectively, entertainment media is desperately trying right now to figure out how the hell to handle the pandemic. Ignore it? Pretend all media now exists in a universe where the shitstorm of 2020 didn’t exist? Most of the ones that I’ve seen have gone down what I consider the absolute worst route, which is of course terrible fucking writing that kind of? addresses the pandemic and shit that went down, but like, with clunky dialogue and really bad jokes. I’m mostly talking about the Roseanne spinoff/sequel/whatever the fuck it’s considered, of which I watched half an episode of and then silently begged my fiance to let us leave his mother’s house because she was laughing at it and it was genuinely, horrifically painful. This is why I don’t watch tv anymore. 

ANYWAY. He never mentions it. Not once. There are plenty of really relevant things discussed and pointed out and I think one? mention of the actual year 2020 but beyond that. Nothing. And I feel like Inside might be one of the most genuine, visceral, real pieces of media portraying the pandemic that we, as an American society anyway, are going to come away from this all with. At least everyone in my own admittedly piss poor social circles has spent like last ~year and a half doing that social media thing where the more you post about how well you’re doing and great it all is, the more miserable and bad off you really are.

(Yes, that is how I judge my ‘friends’’ relationships on facebook. The more pictures/posts/tagged shit/social media demonstrations of how ~amazing~ and ~in love~ and ~perfect~ everything is, the worse I assume the reality is.)

But Inside strikes as very, very real. And I just feel like 20 30 40 50 years from now, when we’re talking about the 2020 pandemic and how it shaped and shifted and effected and destroyed people and society, it’s going to be a very important piece of media. Because so far, anyway, it’s the first one I’ve seen where you can actually see it all go down. The absolute fucking breakdown so many of us went through. Dealing with worsening mental problems that had previously been getting better, lost progress, ruined plans and dreams and missed opportunities and everything else. 

It’s the first one that strikes as real, I guess. As not manufactured. Not tailored to portray the ‘correct’ message. Not diminishing or exaggerating anything but just... showing. Existing within the reality of the year. And not being apologetic or ashamed about it. 

I’m glad he actually went through with putting it out into the world. That probably took a whole lot to do, and I hope good things get to him for going through with it all. For completing it and giving it to the world. It was visceral and raw to watch and my piss poor attention span that needs 20+ tabs open at all times actually sat there and watched it, in full, all the way through in one go. Without pausing to read a fic, watch something else, check facebook or tumblr, answer a roleplay, or skim through omegle to see if anyone good was online. That’s like, unheard of these days.

I just. I dunno. There’s a lot there to breakdown. A part of me wants to do it, take the time and write the analysis and the breakdowns and pick out what I think the important bits are. But I hate doing that now and I’m sure the desire will be gone come afternoon-morning, along with all these weird feelings about it. 

This has gotten long enough and it’s 4:47 now, so half an hour of word vomiting into a tumblr post is probably too much. So I guess I’ll call it quits and maybe maybe not delete this when I wake up. Night, anyone who actually suffered through reading this mess.

[mblay-and-company]

It’s Self Indulgent FanFiction time, ya’ll!!!

So I came across this Prompt List by @palettes-and-prompts and IMMEDIATELY became intrigued by the very first dialogue prompt, and since a certain Hotel in Hell with a certain Radio Demon has became my Hyperfixation for the time being, I have decided to indulge myself.

When I started, I really struggled to decide if I wanted to directly insert myself into this or make it a Reader Fic.  I decided fuck it, this is for me!  And then I struggled to decide which name to use for myself, bc most of my OC’s are named after me in some degree and it’s very awkward... :I

So, without further ado, have a FanFic featuring a human me hanging out in the Hotel and having been foolish enough to have made SOME deals with Alastor, but not stupid enough to sell my Soul to him.  Misadventures of Michaela the Hell Temp, go!

"C'mon, toots, ya gotta tell me what yer kink is!"

Michaela let out a hard sigh, looking at the Effeminate Spider Demon with an exhausted glare.

"I don't need to tell you anything, Angel-"

"But I gotta know what freaky shit Smiles is into!  You two clearly are into something!"

After Angel Dust learned about the "bizarre Deal" she admitted to have with Alastor, along with what she described as a light crush, he immediately started making assumptions.  Honestly, it felt like he had been drilling her for hours for the "deets," even though it was probably only a few minutes at best.

"Angel, do you not understand how being Ace works-"

"Is it a Foot Fetish?!  Are ya two into suckin' toes?!" He almost let out a cheer when he watched her react, but quickly realized she was recoiling in disgust.

"Angel, that's fucking gross!  Do ya even know how much DEAD SKIN there is between toes???" She gagged out, her nose scrunched up.

"And why are we wondering about dead skin cells?" The two quickly turned to see a curious Alastor, quietly drinking a cup of coffee.  He could hear the sounds of their argument halfway across the Hotel, and it finally piqued his interest.

"Al, you really don't wanna be a part of this-" She tried to warn him, only to get shoved out of the way by Angel.

"Smiles!  What kinky shit do you two do during sex???" He practically screamed out with excitement.  Alastor let out a sudden cough, choking on his coffee.

"I beg your PARDON?!" He sputtered out, his grin pulled tight and twitching in the corners.  The static that emanated off of him seemed to intensify in agitation.  With another hard sigh, Michaela gave Angel a harsh check to his side, knocking him to the ground.

"This idiot is CONVINCED that we must have sex together just because we do business with each other.  He's been trying to delve into this nonexistant sex life for WAY too long, and I can feel a migrain coming on because of it." She scowled, rubbing her temples.  Alastor made a cough to clear his throat out, looking over at Angel.

"I fear you have forgotten that not everyone is in the Prostitution Business, my effeminate fellow!  And besides, I believe it is in your best interest to know that your little pet has squeezed himself under the oven, and our Charming Demon Belle can't coax him out.  I offered my assistance, but she doesn't seem to trust me with the pig's safety!"  He cried out in feigned offence, dramatically putting his hand over his heart in a swoon.  Upon being told his beloved pet was potentially in danger, Angel let out a distressed gasp.

"Fat Nuggets, hold on, Daddy's coming for ya!!!"  He cried out, sprinting down the hall at full speed.  Michaela let out a hard sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping down.

"I thought he would never leave..." She muttered, before looking up at Alastor.  "Is Nugs really stuck?"

"It would seem so..." He hummed thoughtfully.  "I wasn't planning on telling Angel about it, but it certainly became a much needed means to remove him from the room!"

"It seems we both conveniently benefit from this..." She mused, rubbing her temples again.  She was trying to think of ways to politely thank him without incurring a higher "tab" of debt with him.  The dealings she already had with him were careful, but she knew full well that he was much more cunning than she was, and he was VERY good at pulling the "favor" card.

"Most certainly, my dear!" He laughed heartily.  "I couldn't leave you in such a distressing state!  Not when I would find myself just as uncomfortable!"

"Thanks for that..." She let out a soft sigh.  Perhaps finding situations that were mutually beneficial really was the way to go?

"However..."

And there it was.  She couldn't help but cringe as she watched him tap his chin thoughtfully, his eyes focused entirely on her.

"I can't help but think that our business dealings isn't the ONLY reason that spider was so insistent on believing we had a... Less than professional relationship?" His eyebrows quirked as he carefully studied her expression. She was a combination of conflicted, embarrassed, and possibly mocking?  She was a massive kaleidoscope of emotions, many often showing off at once, making a very entertaining - Sometimes even unique - show for him.

"First of all..." She started, swirling her hand in circles to keep her thought process going.  "... Describing our relationship as "Professional" is kinda laughable, considering the CLOSEST I could be described is a Temp for you."  He simply responded with a static laced chuckle, followed with his disembodied laugh track, and a shrug.

"Second of all..." Her pause was a lot longer, rubbing one side of her temples with one hand as she held up a finger with the other, as if to say "One moment."  She let out another hard sigh, and let out a mumbled "I can't believe I'm explaining this to you..."

"You have my full attention now, sweetheart, I am most intrigued with what you have to say!  No backing out now!"  He chimed with a quirked eyebrow, his eyes glistening with intrigue and possible mischief.  With another sigh, she looked him dead in the eyes.

"I have a minor crush on you... A small infatuation..." She admitted, already regretting saying anything.  She braced for the inevitable mocking as he processed what she said to him.  Eventually he broke the silence with the hard laughter she expected of him, and after what felt like an eternity he wiped a tear from his eye.

"A horrible decision, really.  I pegged you to at LEAST be a little smarter than that, darling..." He chuckled darkly, before bending down to bring his face to eye level with her.  "After all, you know full well what horrors I am capable of, yes?  What I have done, and will continue to do, for all of eternity?"

She could feel a lump of nervousness caught in her throat.  His grin was impossibly wide and extremely dangerous, and his eyes were half lidded.  He looked exactly like what he was; A predator with full control over the situation.  If he decided to, he could kill her with such ease.  With a hard swallow, she explained herself.

"I'm not naive...  Nor am I complacent.  I certainly don't support or condone the atrocities you've done..." She let out a hard sigh, repeating the circling motion with her hand to process her thoughts.  "It's just easy to be... Charmed by your more gentlemanly behaviors... Your... Damn it, brain, you had this word five seconds ago...  It's usually used in reference to illnesses that spread easy..." She muttered as the circling became much faster.

"Contagious?" He offered with a chuckle, straightening himself out.  She admitted to this problem of forgetting words quite a while ago, despite her brain fully remembering the concept of the word she's attempting to say.  It was an interesting dilemma, to say the least.  She once anguished over forgetting the word "oven" for a week.

"Yeah, that one.  Your high energy and smile are very contagious..." She said with a point, before continuing.  "I always enjoy the music.  I may be modern, and I know you don't support most of my taste, but I do really like smooth jazz and swing.  You also genuinely make me laugh with your Dad Jokes, I find them hilarious..." The circling of her hand slowly became slower as she started to run out of her steam.

"I could never, in my right mind, try to chase after a serious romance with you, knowing full well the kind of monster you are...  But I can still find some of your other traits endearing.  I absolutely love a man who is passionate, kind of silly, gentlemanly, and for fuck's sake, you're an amazing cook!  It's hard to not be smitten by something that's being chased away by modern views of how men should act..." With a final sigh, she looked him in the eyes, resolved but quite tired.  She was surprised to see how much his expression had softened, especially with her last sentence.

". . . You are a remarkably. . . Perceptive individual, Michaela." He started softly, the static crackle nigh inaudible.  "Especially with how your own mind works.  I have seen, time and time again, fools allow themselves to spiral in such frivolous fantasies and drive themselves mad not knowing WHY they chased them in the first place.  And yet you seem so capable of picking apart your own brain like a professional Psychologist.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed to some degree."

She looked at him with a bewildered look, certainly not expecting any form of PRAISE from him like that.  She said nothing, cautiously holding her tongue and waiting for the preverbal "but..."

"Given Angel's more... Crass nature, I can certainly see how he misconstrued your infatuation.  However, it's clear as crystal to me that you wouldn't harbor such lustful intentions towards me!" He nodded to himself, seeming almost proud of this sudden character study.

"Never really was interested in sex." She laughs out matter of factly.  "And I think most of us can agree you aren't, either, so I don't see how two people not interested suddenly makes a duo WILDLY interested, especially in the weirder things Angel was suggesting..." She cringed slightly at the thought of the toes again, but the both of them started laughing again.  Alastor took a step closer, giving her a firm pat on the shoulders.

"Yes, indeedy, my dear!  This is an unexpected turn of events for me, to find someone who shares my woes!" He chimed happily, using his hand to gently coax her head to look up at him.  He hadn't seen her laugh and smile like this in a while, and it was a nice change of pace compared to her exhausted melancholy or entertaining - Albeit quick - flashes of anger.  "There's that lovely smile that's been missing!  As you know-"

"Yeah yeah, never fully dressed and all that." She chuckles with an eye roll.  "Though it IS definitely nice to talk to someone who actually UNDERSTANDS the lack of interest..."

She continued to ramble on, but he stopped listening.  She was usually very cautious about how he touched her, showing to be quite aversive if he attempted to go close to her neck in particular.  But it was like she didn't notice where his hand was, and was getting complacent.  Comfortable.  Lowering her guard.  He didn't bare his teeth to her, yet, but his smirk still pulled tight.  He watched through half lidded eyes as she caught herself stumbling over her words, and slowly realized the situation she was in.  As she slowed her ramblings to a stop, she attempted to move her head away; Only for him to tightly grip onto her face, his clawed fingers dangerously close to cutting into her cheeks.  It was at this point, looking at her terrified realization, that he bared his teeth to her.

"A-Alastor, I..." She quietly pleaded, feeling cold sweat starting to bead on her forehead.  Her body had tensed and her arms raised half way, but she stopped herself before trying to pry his hands away.  Not only did she know that it would be a futile attempt with his Demonic strength, but it could have been foolish to DARE try to touch him.  Her hands trembled in fear and conflict as he slowly pulled her face closer, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes, as he leaned in to close the distance.  Mere hairs separated their noses.

"I will admit..." He started coolly, his eyes flicking down the hall quickly to make sure no one would interrupt him, before returning his gaze to the frightened girl in his grasp.  "... The fact that Angel considered such a thing possible is quite amusing, even despite our... Lack of sexual desires.  Do you know why, my dear..?"

"N-No, I don't..." She swallowed hard, not understanding where he could be bringing this conversation.  She shuddered as he let out a cold laugh.

"It's amusing because even if we were both more active in seeking sexual gratification... You are still a small and weak living human.  And, if I could be so frank..."  He leaned closer to her ear, whispering with a sweet venom that made her blood run cold. "I don’t know if your fragile body can handle what I want to do to you."

He let out another dark chuckle before lowering her and releasing his grasp, reveling in the look of utter terror on her face; Eyes wide, mouth slack, and trembling like a small kitten caught in a rainstorm.  And then, as if a switch flipped in his mind, his expression softened to the more excited and less threatening version of himself.

"Now, I do believe it's lunch time!  Now I'm sure that Angel managed to get his little pet out of that little spot of trouble it was in, but perhaps I'll be able to have some bacon anyways!" He laughs with a jovial energy, as if the previous conversation never happened.  He quickly disappeared around the corner, heading straight for the kitchen.

Michaela stood alone in the hall, slowly bringing her hands to her cheeks.  It started to check the damage, but she slowly found herself becoming flustered as she thought about his strange threat.  What could he have considered?  Biting?  Clawing?  Crushing with tentacles?  The thought was, admittedly, exciting, and she had to stop herself from calling for Alastor to ask for clarification.

The last thing she needed a Sadist like him to learn was that she was, very contradictory to most of her Asexual nature, Masochistic and easily excited over such thoughts.

[lia-jones]

Growing Stronger - Chapter Eleven - I Won’t Give Up

The wedding ceremony was beautiful and uneventful, with the bride and groom looking very happy.

I had no time to breathe during the reception. always busy entertaining guests so the happy couple could have their meal in peace. This is the real curse of the extrovert, we get asked to entertain people a lot. Or keep them from crying.

I had no chance to be with Victor, since I was sitting on the side of the bride, and he was sitting on the side of the groom. Not that it mattered, anyway. What would I tell him? There wasn’t a lot of room for small talk.

After the meal, the married couple had their first dance. Victor was nowhere to be found, not that I checked. When I saw everybody having fun dancing and engaged in conversation, I decided to go to the bar and order myself a drink to help me relax. My feet were killing me, and that was seriously affecting my mood.

A man in his thirties, blue eyes, blonde hair, and a bad boy attitude, sat on the stool next to mine.

“Will you let me buy you a drink?” He smiled at me.

“It’s an open bar.” I answered flatly.

“Oops. Got me there.” He raised his hands playfully. “What about a dance then?”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I frowned at him. I didn’t feel like being hit on.

“Probably not, but I think I know you. You’re the CEO’s ex, right?” He pointed at me, squinting.

Oh God. Barf.

“Is that what they are calling me these days? I do have a name, you know. And an existence of my own.” I gave him a bitter smile.

“No, don’t be offended.” His hand tried to reach my shoulder, but I backed off a little. “I didn’t know who you were, but some colleagues were saying that you’d be here, so I looked for the most beautiful girl in the room. It didn’t take me long to find you, it had to be you.”

“Smooth.” I nodded, impressed. The guy had guts, I had to give him that. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Maybe we started with the wrong foot. Micah Clarke, I work at the legal department at LFG.  I’m sorry if I offended you, I just didn’t know how to approach you.”

“Well, Mr. Clarke, I really have to go.” I got up from my stool.

“Can I have at least a second chance? Dinner to make it up for my social clumsiness?”

“I’ll tell you something, Mr. Clarke. When you figure out the reason why you are not getting my attention, I may accept your invitation for  dinner.”

I figured that would leave him wondering for a while. Hopefully, long enough for me to enjoy the rest of the wedding in peace. I walked to my table, decided to have a glass of wine instead.

I sat and poured myself a glass, hoping everyone was way too busy dancing to look for me. Tough luck. As I took my first sip of wine, I was pulled from my chair by Goldman.

“Come, dance with me.” He enthusiastically held my hand as he pulled me to the center of the dancefloor.

“I just want to be left in peace…” I whined. “Where the hell is your wife?” I asked, as I tried to figure out a way to ditch him.

“Hey, this is my happy day, so if I ask you to dance with me, you dance with me.” He ordered playfully.

I spotted Diane dancing with Victor. I realized right away what they were trying to do.

“You sneaky little man…” I smiled.

“What can I say? I’m team love today.” He smiled back.

“You’re wearing wedding rose-colored glasses. Wait till you have your first fight.”

“All worth it for a lifetime with her. Even if she locks me outside the apartment and throws all my stuff from the bedroom window, it will be worth it. Every second with her is worth any trouble I may find.”

I smiled at the tenderness of his words.

I heard Diane’s voice saying “Let’s switch!” and suddenly Victor was in front of me, Goldman out of sight. We stood awkwardly for a moment and then Victor took my hand and held my waist, prompting me to dance with him.

“Discreet, aren’t they?” I joked.

“Not really. But there’s no harm in humoring them.”

“That’s why you agreed to dance?” I furrowed my eyebrows.

“I like dancing with you. Good dance partners are hard to find.” Victor gave me a small smile.

“Why, I like dancing with you too. You are a very good dancer.”

Not wasting any time, Victor took me tighter in his arms, dipping me.

“Show off.” I teased, making us both laugh.

I saw a hand tap on his shoulder, making him turn.

“Sorry boss, do you mind If I have a dance with the pretty girl?” It was that Clarke guy. Victor’s face fell to his poker face one.

“Sure.” Victor answered in a low voice, stepping away, before I could have a word about it. Clarke immediately took the chance to take my hand.

“You’re bold.” I said flatly.

“One of my many qualities.” He declared proudly, as he swayed on the dance floor. I followed, not wanting to cause a scene, since everyone was now looking at the guy who stole Victor Lee’s dance partner. “I know what I did wrong. Want to hear it?”

“Sure.” I shrugged. “Since you’re wasting my time already.”

“I am not him. I am not Victor Lee. You are still in love with him.” I blinked at him, shocked by his words. “I am nothing like him. That could be a good thing for you.”

I laughed bitterly. The guy had some nerve.

“Don’t laugh, it’s true. All you need is to replace him with someone totally different. I bet you two didn’t have much in common. Maybe if you find someone more like you, you’ll be able to forget him. I can be a rebound guy, if that gives me the chance to be your next relationship.”

Sleazy son of a b… I almost threw up in my mouth.

“Let me make some things clear. You are nothing like me, and you are right, you are nothing like him.” I started, feeling disgusted. “You are a parasite, unable to do anything by yourself, so you assume if you get close enough to others success, you can bask in it. What you do doesn’t make you more successful or smart, it just makes you small.” I paused, looking him in the eyes. “Did you feel like a big man, taking the lady from his arms? Did you feel like you could be as big as him, as powerful as him, as admired as him? Truth is, you can’t. Because he’s honorable, and you’re just an asshole.”

I stepped away, releasing myself from his grip. But no, I wasn’t done yet.

“The reason why you will never take me anywhere is because I have wasted my time on enough narcissistic pieces of shit to know one when I see him. And I certainly won’t waste my time with you.”

I stormed away from him, fuming with rage. Seeing a waiter was serving whiskey to some guest, I unceremoniously took a glass and the bottle of him, leaving the room.

Outside felt way better. The fresh air made me feel calmer, and the view of the ocean hitting on the rocks was inviting. I found a secluded place between some trees and sat on the rock wall that divided the orchard from the shore, watching the ocean break on the rocks below my feet.

I was a bit chilly, but the burning whiskey in my throat gave me enough heat for me to remain there, away from the music, away from the people, away from my thoughts. I closed my eyes, just listening to the raging ocean, enjoying the silence in my mind and my solitude.

Warm hands held my shoulders as a familiar voice spoke.

“Don’t be startled. It’s me.”

I sighed.

“Need something?” I teased, pretending to be grumpy. Despite everything, I was happy to see him.

“Yes. Someone has been hoarding the whiskey.” He said, showing me his glass for me to fill it. “Besides, some quiet is good.”

I filled his glass without a word.

“I admire your boldness.” He continued. “Sitting on a wall, hundreds of feet over a bed of rocks and water, having liquor. Courageous. If you have a death wish.”

“You’re just scared I’ll fall.” I gave him a sly smile.

“Scared? Me? You’re an adult. If you want to die on those rocks, it’s your business, not mine.” He stated, casually taking a sip of his whiskey.

“The view is worth the risk. I think I can see the Watcher from here.” I bent slightly forward and his arm immediately circled my waist, his face in sheer panic.

“You’re so full of it.” I laughed hard. “Come on, be a lad and help me down.” I said, motioning to get off the wall, taking Victor’s hand to support me.

However, I had another issue coming. My dress was made of tule, and somehow the fabric had caught on the rugged rocks. It would be ruined if I tried to come down, and probably my behind would be showing.

“Wait.” I urged. “My skirt got stuck.” I was red with shame.

Victor lifted the fabric a little, assessing the gravity of the situation.

“I can release it. Hold tight to my neck, and lift your body with your legs.”

My arms wrapped around Victor’s neck as I tried to lift my butt. His smell came to me, his wonderful familiar smell. It brought back an array of feelings and memories, vivid and solid in my mind. I noticed his warm breath on my cheeks and looked up. He was staring at me, his grey eyes darker. Maybe this was bringing memories to him too.

“The skirt.” I spoke weakly, not wanting to end the moment, but feeling compelled to. Victor cleared his throat, focusing on his task.

It took less than a minute for me to be free from that wall. Victor’s arms held my waist in a too familiar way, helping me down. I thanked him, leaning on the wall, this time carefully not to have the same thing happen to me twice. I handed him the whiskey bottle.

“Here. I’m done hoarding. It’s all yours.”

“You’re done drinking?”

“Yes, I need to mind my alcohol intake.”

“Because of the bachelorette party?” Victor gave me a knowing smile. I felt the blood draining from my face.

“Oh God, what did I do? I know that look, you know something! Did I embarrass myself?” I hid my face with my hands.

“You don’t remember?” Victor chuckled.

“I remember having some jello shots with Diane. They seemed pretty harmless. After that… nada.” I shook my head.

“You don’t remember going home?”

“Nope. Diane told me she left first, so she didn’t take me. One of the girls told me someone called cabs for everyone, so I probably took one, I guess. Surprisingly, I managed to get inside without making much of a scene, change my clothes, and I was even wise enough to leave some painkillers and some water by my nightstand.” For the life of me, I couldn’t possibly explain this line of events. Apparently, Victor could, so I pressed him a bit more. “Now, tell me how I made a fool of myself.”

Victor looked me in the eyes, lost in thought.

“So?” I insisted. Victor cleared his throat.

“I have no idea, actually. I left right after Goldman. You probably behaved, otherwise you’d know by now. But it could’ve easily gone the other way, so learn your lesson.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” I chuckled bitterly. “Lesson learned. Never again.”

There was a silence that stretched for a while, a familiar comfortable silence that Victor and I used to share… When we were together. Open heart. I allowed myself to just be in his presence, to let myself relax.

“When did you know?” Victor blurted out.

“When did I know what?” I frowned.

“That you didn’t love me anymore.” He was watching me closely, reading me. I shook my head, looking away.

“Victor…”

“I keep replaying all our moments together, trying to find it, the moment when you looked at me and realized you weren’t in love anymore. And I can’t find it. I need to know. If I ever meant anything to you, you’ll tell me.” His voice was stern. This was bugging him. Telling him wouldn’t bring anything good, it would complicate things even more. But he needed to know, and it was unfair to keep him wondering.

“The reason why you can’t find that moment…” I grimaced, not believing I was exposing myself like that. Open heart, Andrea. “It’s because there never was one. There was never a moment when I thought I didn’t love you. Because, honestly… I never stopped.”

Victor’s eyes went wide, the grey color in them shimmering with emotion. Before he could utter a word, the wedding planner found us, interrupting the conversation.

“Erm… Sorry.” She apologized, uncomfortable. “The newlyweds are leaving for the honeymoon.”

We walked to the main room in silence, attending to our duties. We said goodbye to Goldman and Diane, and after they were only seen in the distance, I returned to my room, hoping I could just sleep.

I woke up early the following morning. I had decided to leave bright and early, hoping I could avoid Victor. Being with him stirred old feelings inside, and I couldn’t deal with that. I felt fragile as it was, I didn’t know if my fragile heart could take any more strong emotions.

As the elevator door opened, I saw Victor. Alone. Crap. I walked in.

I said good morning and not much else, pretending to be too sleepy to chat. Victor, on the other hand, looked perky. Decided. There was an aura of confidence around him that suited him very well.

Just before we reached the ground floor, he moved to the panel and pressed the panic switch. The elevator screeched to a halt.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t. Just listen.”

He walked towards me with such an assertiveness that I found myself leaning on the elevator’s back wall, trying to retreat. His hands landed on the wooden panel behind me, blocking my exit. He towered over me, his eyes focused and bright.

“I can’t think of a happier moment in my life other than the ones I’ve spent with you. We had our problems, yes, but we are right for each other. We just gave up too soon. Well, I want you to know I’m not giving up.”

“Victor…” I tried.

“I will not give up on us, Andrea, even if you did. If you still have feelings for me, I still stand a chance. And I will take it, I will win you back. I am more than patient, and when I want something, I will stop at nothing to get it. Be prepared.”

With that, he moved away and pulled the switch back to his original position, the elevator resuming its ride and stopping at the ground floor. Without looking back, Victor just walked away.

And I was left inside, unable to move, unable to think, the loud sound of my throbbing heart echoing through my mind.

[multiverse-in-archive]

Awesome, Helpless

((Sequel to this and based off of the Addict music video. Buckle up, this is a long bitch it gets heavy at points because that video was heavy as fuck and this is how I cope-))

After sweeping up the last dollar bill into his hands, Angel stood up straight, making sure to trail his fingers up his thighs with the motion. Then he turned on his heels, walked up the catwalk and to the main part of the stage. He shot the crowd one last seductive look before the curtains closed and the stage lights went out.

“Well, I can’t say that was really my taste in entertainment,” Alastor spoke up from his seat at the table, “But he did certainly put on a performance. Brava!~”

Husk slammed his glass down on the table with a muffled thunk against the table cloth.

“Yer jus’ glad it’s over, aincha?” the winged feline piped up.

“Certainly!”

“Even with his voice, I still get his gender confused. Why does he do that with his chest floof?” Nifty added.

“Because his audience is gross and he knows it,” Vaggie said flatly.

Charlie was immediately scanning around the scrambling crowd for the spider demon.

Yes, she was aware that he’d need to get dressed after his show, but she wanted to be able to spot him as soon as he came back.

Soon enough, there she spotted him, emerging by the stage. It wasn’t hard to notice him, he was nine feet tall and almost pure white. He was practically a beacon.

“Come on, guys! Let’s go congratulate him!” the blonde said, immediately standing up.

The princess rushed off with the sinners in towe. 

It didn’t take long for Angel to take notice of the approaching group and grin. He walked towards them in wide strides

As the space between them closed, Charlie’s nose twitched and wrinkled a bit. Her sensitive nose had picked up something rather sickly sweet coming off of Angel. It was a scent that already subtly wafted in the establishment enough that no one else would notice, but it smelt more concentrated off of the pornstar. Like perfume. But it wasn’t his usual perfume, that was for sure.

At the very least his sweat dulled down the scent some…

“What’s with the face, toots?” Angel prodded as soon as he and the group stopped in front of each other.

“You smell funny,” she answered without thinking.

Alastor chuckled behind her, clearly amused.

“Well, yeah,” Angel said with a snort, “I jus’ got finished dancin’ a storm up there, baby. ‘Course I’m gonna be smellin’ a bit rank.”

Charlie opened her mouth to reply to that, but decided against it. Instead, she smiled wide and grabbed him by the hand excitedly.

“You were terrific out there!”

“You certainly know your audience. I’ll give you that,” Vaggie added, a hand on her hip and a half smile on her face, “I guess I can see why you’re popular now.”

“I knew you were fluffy, but I didn’t realize you were this fluffy!” Nifty added.

Angel gave an amused and cocky grin.

“Thanks, gals~” he rang before his mismatched eyes trailed up to the men of the group, “And you...?~”

Husk rolled his eyes.

“It was fine, I guess.”

Alastor, meanwhile, chose not to comment, favoring just tilting his head to the side instead.

The spider demon merely shrugged.

“Eh, I’ll take those as compliments~”

The Radio Demon’s neck then straightened, eyes flicking past Angel.

Charlie’s sensitive black nose crinkled again. That same sweet smell from Angel. But much much more potent. And coming right towards them. That prompted her to turn her head to the source, the rest following suit.

Angel pulled away from her, the grin and pep all but fading.

A blue skinned moth demon, nearly a foot taller than Angel and wearing a bright red fluffy coat and hat, was walking towards the group. Rose tinted heart shaped shades glinted against the light of the club, and a golden tooth gleamed in that wide grin among the otherwise pink teeth. Accompanying him were two scantily clad demonesses, one cat like, and the other may or may not be an imp. Her eyes weren’t glowing in the dim lighting, so she may not have been.

“Angel cakes~” a rich, velvety voice greeted from the tall moth’s lips, “Do ya have my money?”

“Yes boss…” Angel muttered as he began digging around in his pillowy “cleavage”.

Ah. Boss. So this was Angel’s employer, then. Made sense.

The blue demon then looked at the others.

“I definitely recognize the Radio Demon, and one looks vaguely familiar. New friends of yours, sugar?”

Angel tensed up a bit at that but handed him the stack.

“No sir. They just work at the hotel I’m stayin’ at now,” he explained, “They’re more landlords than anything.”

Vaggie could only cock a brow at that.

“Sir”? This is the first time she’d ever heard Angel say that… unironically that is. So formal and polite… And yeah, this is his boss, but still. With how he behaved usually, she expected him to be bratty, or at least casual. It was… surreal…

Charlie extended a hand to shake, even despite the overwhelming scent assaulting her senses.

“I’m Charlie, the founder and owner of the Happy Hotel.”

Angel’s boss stared for a moment, gears turning in his head. Then, he started laughing. Low and slow for a moment, and then building it’s way up up up, all the way to gut busting. Even the two women with him started giggling.

The demon princess lowered her hand slightly, a tad discouraged now.

Vaggie, however, was more miffed than anything.

“What’s so funny?!” she growled.

“Holy shit, I remember now!” he blurted out, “You’re the princess from that interview! God, I haven’t laughed as hard as I have when I watched that shitshow in ages!”

“Well, at least we can both agree that it was quite entertaining,” Alastor chimed, “Don’t get used to that, however.”

The silver haired demoness looked about ready to blow a gasket. What stopped her from going around her girlfriend to punch this fucker in the face was a hand on her shoulder. Angel’s hand.

She looked up to see said spider demon looking down at her and shaking his head from side to side slowly.

She’d… never seen him look so… serious…! What the fuck!?

Charlie was about to completely lower her hand in defeat, but the laughter suddenly stopped, and one of the man’s own hand shot for hers, partially grabbing her wrist when he’d caught it in his grip.

“You can call me Valentino, baby doll~” he said cordially.

Charlie didn’t even have time to express any discomfort at the pet name before she was suddenly pulled closer to the pimp.

“Charmed!~” he added, his voice breathy.

At the “charmed”, bright red smoke rushed out of his mouth and into Charlie’s face. They saw it a few times during Angel’s show, but neither Charlie nor Vaggie knew where it came from. They just figured it was part of the show with how it interacted with Angel. At least until now.

That overly sweet scent again. But much more concentrated. Powerful. Overwhelmingly so. It blocked out all other scents, violently assaulting her senses. It was dizzying. She normally loved sweet smells, but there was such a thing as too fucking sweet! Too fucking much! And it was already too sweet in the air, and too much coming off of Angel. Even more so from Valentino. This. This just made her feel ill. Made her want to retch.

All the while, Angel was deathly stiff as he watched, his grip on the by now furious moth demoness much tighter. He had no idea what to do, what to say, all he could do was internally freak out-

Shit shit shit shit shit- Val, no! Not her! Don’t fuckin’ do this to her!

“Hey, what the hell!?” Vaggie snapped at her fellow moth.

She didn’t know what he was doing or why, but damn was she itching to bring out her spear-

Husk, Nifty, and Alastor exchanged knowing glances before, with a swish of the chimera demon’s large wings, the red smoke was fanned away and towards the two women with Valentino. Both of whom gladly inhaled it. The two then stared at each other, eyes half lidded.

Valentino’s smile ebbed slightly.

Huh… He was sure she inhaled at least some of it… and yet...

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that blowing smoke in someone’s face is rude?” Nifty chastised from below, “Shame!”

Alastor gently pulled Charlie away and out of the pimp’s grip by the shoulder in a casual motion.

“Then again, can’t expect any manners from someone who associates with Vox of all people.~”

Valentino’s attention was pulled away from the princess and onto the Radio Demon behind her. That let Angel relax enough to finally release Vaggie, who promptly moved to gently hold her girlfriend by the arms.

“Are you alright, Charlie?”

The blonde could only nod, still reeling from the assault on her senses.

Fuck, she could still taste it in the back of her throat. It was like being force fed cups and cups of nothing but pure honey. It stung!

“Speakin’ of Voxy, a shame he already left. He would have loved to have seen you, dear~” the pimp said.

“Rather fortunate that he did leave, because I do not share such sentiments,” Alastor responded rather curtly as he released Charlie’s shoulder once he was certain she was safe from anything further from Valentino.

“What does bring ya here anyways, baby?” the red clad moth continued, “I thought this wasn’t your scene. Didja finally decide to have some real fun?~”

“I would hardly consider this my definition of ‘real fun’,” the radio host scoffed, “I only came by Charlie’s insistence.”

Valentino snorted at that.

“I’m sure ya did, sweetheart…~”

The deer’s red eyes narrowed, his grin sharpening.

“You find yourself quite fortunate that I am temporarily sworn off of non self defense violence for the sake of my entertainment, or I would have made certain that you are no longer able to make such disgusting innuendos.”

After all, what sane person would check in if they felt the people working there were dangerous?

“Awwww… Learn to have fun…~” Valentino teased.

“Big Veeeeee…” the feline demoness whined, “Can we go back to the studio?~”

“Yes, daddy, I want to play, and there’s no good place to do so here~” the other agreed.

“Awh, you bitches needy?~ Alright, alright, we’ll head back…~”

The pimp’s attention finally returned to Angel.

“Angel baby, come on now.”

“W-Wait a minute,” Charlie spoke up without thinking, “Didn’t you get your money already? Shouldn’t he come back home with us now that he’s done?”

Valentino cocked his head to the side at her, his mostly pink grin quirked in amusement.

“Awh honey, donchu know how this works?~” he asked, his tone condescending, “I need to make sure that he has given me it all… Can’t have a sneaky lil’ whore tryna siphon more than their earnings off of me, you know~”

Angel hesitated, looking between the group and Valentino.

“Can’t you just count your money here?” Vaggie piped up, “It shouldn’t take that long, should it?”

Red eyes narrowed from behind heart shaped rose tinted lenses. He seemed to be struggling to keep his grin up.

“Didja not hear my bitches, sweetie? They wanna go now,” his face then softened when he looked at the spider demon, “Besides, we need to talk about his upcomin’ shoots. Don’t we, sugar?”

“... Yes mista Valentino,” Angel sighed out.

“We’ll have him back to your little joke- I mean hotel once we’re done with our business, ‘kay?”

He tucked away his stack of bills before wrapping his lower set of arms around the waists of the girls and using one of his top hands to make a beckoning motion with his finger.

“Come along, baby~” he cooed.

Before either of the girls could protest this further, Angel obediently followed after him, looking over his shoulder with an… unreadable expression.

“Well, see ya fuckas late-a, I guess.”

Once the four were gone, Charlie looked at the others anxiously. Something rubbed her the wrong way, and she couldn’t put her finger on what.

“Well! I think it’s about time we made ourselves scarce as well, wouldn’t you say!?” Alastor suddenly exclaimed.

Before anyone could respond, he ushered the group out the exit. 

They didn’t have to wait in the night long before the limo pulled up. Out of the front seat Dazzle emerged, floating to the door to open it and allow them inside. Everyone crawled in to find their places. Charlie and Vaggie sat in the back seats while Alastor and his little crew sat across from them. Nifty was seated in the lap of Husk, who had to position his large wings awkwardly to fit in his seat.

Onces everyone was seated, the red goat shut the door. Moments later, the limo started moving.

The ride was quiet for a while, everyone trying to process the encounter after the show.

Then, the silence was broken.

“Charlie…” came Alastor’s voice, his tone uncharacteristically sober.

That was enough to pull her and the others out of their thoughts and bring their eyes to him.

His usual smile was still there, but he was leaning forward, eyes hard focused on the princess across from him.

“I need you to answer me something, and I need you to do so honestly… Could you do that for me, darling…?”

Charlie nodded slowly, a brow raised. Where was this coming from?

“Are you feeling an unexplainable warmth? Perhaps some sort of strange craving?”

That only confused her more.

“N… No…?”

The Radio Demon hummed in thought for a moment.

“Are you feeling anything else, then…? Anything out of the ordinary…?”

“... I’m still having trouble getting that taste and smell out.”

Alastor raised a brow.

“Smell and taste…? From that smoke?”

“Yeah…” she said with a nod, “I don’t know how strong it is for you guys, but...”

“Charlie’s nose is really sensitive,” Vaggie explained, “While we may smell something subtle, it’s a lot stronger to her. And she can pretty easily pick up scents we probably would not be able to smell.”

“It… got my throat stinging…” the princess added.

Husk nodded.

“I have a pretty good sense of smell too. One of the only useful things of bein’ a giant fuckin’ cat…” Husk mumbled, “I ain’t still got it stuck in my nose or mouth, nor got my throat stingin’. Then again, I also didn’t get shit blown in my face.”

“... I see…” Alastor finally said softly.

There was another moment of silence before Alastor snapped back into his normal postured, the jovial lit in his voice returning.

“In that case, I know the best cure for this! Who’s up for gumbo!?”

“We already ate dinner in that club, Alastor…” Husk groaned.

The Radio Demon scoffed.

“Like that bushwa they serve can compare to what I cook! What a joke!”

A laugh track punctuated Alastor’s sentence.

When we get home, everyone is getting a bowl!~”

---

Charlie refused to go to bed tonight. Not until she was ensured that Angel was back.

Every hour she would leave her office to check the lobby. And when she didn’t see him there, she would go back to her office and busy herself to keep herself awake. She had given instructions to Husk at the bar that if he ever returned in between those times, he was to give her a shout.

It was five in the morning when she went to check again. Husk had been dead asleep three hours ago, and she didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

When she drew closer to the lobby, she could hear… singing… Soft, sad singing...

And when she emerged out into the lobby, what she saw… surprised her…

Angel at the bar, singing at a sleeping Husk.

In one his hands was a cigarette. It was strange, though. It was producing that same red smoke that she’d seen at the club they came back from.

“I’m addicted…

“To the sorrow…”

Angel was startled, nearly startled out of his melancholy song, when feeling a hand on his shoulder. He swatted at it briefly in irritation, nearly slapping it off of him. He only missed because the hand moved off of him just in time. He glared over his shoulder at the source to see…

… Charlie…

Son of a bitch she moved quietly!

… He was too tired to care enough to feel guilt for the look of hurt on her face. Just… too damn tired… So yes, he was giving her that fuck off look as she stared at him. He was in no mood for her happy sappy shit. None of it! And no amount of that kicked puppy look was going to change that.

Plus… he still had one of Val’s little… “gifts” with him. A brand new pack as thanks for… showing him a good time…

And he still wasn’t entirely sure it was safe around her. Nor did he want to take that chance. That is heart attack inducing, god dammit.

So he walked off, regarding her one last time with a glare and a middle finger as he made his exit.

The sweet smelling smoke and his voice trailed down the hallway with his pace.

“When the buzz ends…

“By tomorrow…”

And all she could do was just… stare after his retreating form and watch it steadily disappear until the only trace of him left was the fading red trail of smoke...

“What’d I miss…?” came a groggy gruff voice, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Charlie looked over at Husk to see, yup, he’s awake now.

She rubbed her face to relax the muscles before smiling at him.

“Angel just came back home…” she said gently, “Go back to sleep, alright…?”

Husk mumbled something or other before drifting back off to slumber, right on top of the puddle of drool he made in his sleep previously.

With that, she made her way back to her office. She could go to her own bed, but that was about the same direction he went, and she didn’t want to come off like she was following him. It was… clear he wanted his space...

… Why did Angel react to her like that…? Did… did she do something wrong…? She thought that… going to his show would bring his trust in them up, but… He’s shut her out more than ever… It was like she had taken one step forward and then jumped ten steps back. He wasn’t even holding her at arm’s length at this point, he was pushing her away. Far far away from him.

Her thoughts drifted back to Valentino, the reason he wasn’t home immediately…

What happened…? Should she have fought harder to ensure he immediately went home with them…?

Maybe she could ask for advice on how to help? But who could she ask? Her first thought was Vaggie, but she had the feeling that said demoness would go off on him if she mentioned the slight hostility he demonstrated. And that was the last thing he needed on top of… whatever he was going through right now... She doubted Alastor would give all that great advice. Husk was a tad… apathetic to be of much help here… And Nifty… she wasn’t sure about Nifty’s qualifications on that front either.

… She can talk to him in the morning… Not about what’s wrong if he doesn’t want to, but something to make him feel better? Maybe???

---

Charlie woke up on her desk the next morning.

… Or… well… Afternoon. It was already past lunch time.

The blonde stood up and headed out of her office and to the lobby.

… No Angel yet… And Husk has confirmed that he hasn’t come down for a drink yet. So maybe he was still sleeping… or healing… or both…

So she decided to wait on the couch, occasionally seeing Nifty zip by on her duties.

She’d passed the time texting Vaggie, occasionally glancing up to see if he was here yet.

[TEXT]: Hey love. I just woke up. Afternoon. <3

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT]: Hey, sleeping beauty. How did you sleep?

Probably shouldn’t mention that she slept in her office…

[TEXT]: I slept fine, thank you. <3

Apple of my Eye <3 [Text]: Did you see Angel come back to the hotel?

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT]: What time, if you did?

Charlie’s thumbs hovered over the keypad, hesitating.

[TEXT]: About 5am.

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT]: Was he okay? Something about him going back with that sleazeball of a pimp did not sit well with me.

More, longer hesitation.

That’s the thing. She didn’t know. She wasn’t entirely sure. He was in a significantly sour mood, that was for damn sure. And before he knew she was even there, he sounded so… sad… Looked so, too… But she couldn’t wrap her head around what could have possibly happened between leaving with Valentino and coming back to the hotel. And that… scared her…

Little to say, she… didn’t know how to answer that.

She swallowed before typing.

[TEXT]: All I know is that he was a bit cranky… I’m sorry… I’m hoping to catch him in the lobby so I could talk with him about it.

Again, she’d rather not bring up him slightly lashing out at her. No need to make things worse for him. She just hoped Vaggie didn’t figure that out.

Thankfully, she didn’t.

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT]: I guess that’s to be expected…

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT]: Did you notice how he was behaving with that Valentino douche? It was almost creepy how his attitude just shifted like that.

[TEXT]: I noticed that too. It’s kind of scary…

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT] And I thought Alastor had the most punchable face in Hell.

[TEXT]: Vaggie, no! We do not solve our issues with violence! >=0

Apple of my Eye [TEXT]: Hey now, I never -said- I would. I just said that he just has one of those faces that would be fun to punch. [smug side eye emoji]

Charlie laughed lightly despite herself.

[TEXT]: So what did I miss anyways?

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT]: Nothing much. I decided to ask Razzle and Dazzle to take some of your paperwork out of your office so they and I could get to working on them. Figured it would keep us from falling behind.

[TEXT]: Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, Vaggie! I didn’t mean to put that on you! D:>

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT]: Hun, it’s fine. You were up trying to make sure Angel was back home safe, and you needed your sleep. Any one that tries to fault you for that is a dick.

Then, the clacking of big boots against the hardwood floor. Charlie looked up to see Angel heading to the bar.

Alright… There he is…

[TEXT]: G2G, Vaggie! Angel’s here! I’ll get to my paperwork afterwards!

Apple of my Eye <3 [TEXT]: Alright, Charlie. Good luck.

Angel plopped himself on one of the stools, propping his head up on his elbow.

“Hey, Husk…”

The feline raised a brow. Huh. Lacking the usual pep. The smile looked tired, forced. He thought he could see bags under the pornstar’s mismatched eyes. His features in general seemed to… sag… like he was somewhat deflated…

“... What’ll it be, bud…?”

“I’m thinkin’...”

He heard a weight plop down on the stool next to his. It took one glance to see…

Oh boy… Charlie…

This was awkward.

He was starting to wonder if she was a cat or something with how she just kept sneaking up on him like that.

His eyes went back to staring out in front of him.

“... Some wine…”

Dammit, he was hoping to get some of the harder shit!

“What kind?”

Angel waved at that.

“Don’ matta, babe. Ain’t picky right now.”

“Rosè it is.”

Angel chuckled weakly as Husk grabbed a wine glass and poured the wine in.

“It’s ‘cuzza the pink, innit...?”

“Yup,” Husk said simply as he handed it to the pornstar.

“Well thanks…~”

Golden eyes then looked over at the princess, who’d just been sitting there quietly, patiently.

“Didn’t know ya drink, blondie.”

“Oh, no no, I’m not here for a drink. I mean, unless you have any-”

“-Virgin drinks?” the winged cat finished, “What kinda fuckin’ bartender would I be if I didn’t know how to make ‘em. Gimme a sec…”

Silence permeated the air for a second, aside from the clinking of glass of Husk doing his work and Angel occasionally sipping from his glass.

Charlie glanced up at him.

He wasn’t even looking at her. Just staring straight ahead…

It felt like an eternity before Husk handed her her drink.

“Hope ya like er whatever. Figured ya were probably sick of sweet shit from last night, so figured somethin’ more citrusy would be more to yer likin’ right now.”

Angel stiffened slightly but said nothing.

The blonde smiled gently as she took it.

“That’s very thoughtful, Husk. Thank you.”

“Don’t fuckin’ get used to it.” he huffed as he grabbed for his bottle and took to drinking from it.

… More silence, this time without much to fill it other than the occasional sipping of drinks from one of the three. The silence would have been deafening otherwise.

He still wasn’t looking at her.

… Maybe if they were alone…

Husk should know morse, right?

Gently, she knocked on the surface of the bar, looking up to see his ears twitching with each beat.

Perfect.

-H-u-s-k---p-l-e-a-s-e---g-o---t-o---t-h-e---o-t-h-e-r---r-o-o-m-

Husk straightened up, folding his bright scarlet wings on his back before moving out from behind the bar.

“Gotta go grab a snack… be right back…”

Angel’s grip on his wine glass tightened at that.

Wait yor jus’ going to leave me alone with her?!

He couldn’t come up with a natural excuse fast enough to either keep Husk here or follow him before the feline had left towards the kitchen.

Dammit!

… More awkward silence… More Angel refusing to look at her…

The blonde gently drummed her knuckles against the bar’s surface as she tried to think of what to say.

“... Ya in a percussionist mood today or something?” he asked, still not looking at her.

Charlie scratched her cheek awkwardly.

“I guess you can say that… Yooouuuu know me.”

The spider demon snorted slightly.

“Yeah, you live yor life in a fuckin’ musical.”

… A bad habit that seems to have rubbed off on him a bit…

Charlie laughed softly.

There was a moment’s hesitation before she looked up at him.

“... Uhm… You have a beautiful singing voice by the way…”

… Son of a bitch, speak of the devil. Or devil’s daughter- wait didn’t she say her dad wasn’t the- Ah fuck it.

Okay, but to be fair, he was singing during his performance last night too. He’d give her the benefit of the doubt and assume that that’s what she meant.

“... Thanks, toots…”

More silence. Charlie stared down at her hands before deciding to speak again.

“... Soooo…” she started, hoping it sounded casual, “How did you sleep…?”

“Fine,” the spider demon responded.

She smiled gently.

“That’s good. You seemed like you had a rough night, so…”

Angel just sighed.

“I was jus’ fuckin’ tired toots. It was nothin’ personal.”

And apparently that’s all he had to say on that. Fair enough. At least he said that much.

“No, it’s okay, I get that. I’m not upset about that. Honest. Just… worried…”

… Yor worried…?

He finally glanced down at her for the first time since she took the seat beside him.

… He had to know…

“... ‘Nuff ‘bout me, though, sweetheart. I wanna ask you somethin’.”

The princess perked at that.

“Anything.”

He took a sip of his wine as he tried to think of how best to ask his question.

“So how are you feelin’? Ya got any headaches, or feelin’ weaka? Maybe feelin’ any shakiness or anything like that?”

Charlie seemed to grow more and more confused the more he spoke.

“N… No…? I’m fine… Why…?”

First Alastor, now Angel. What was up with asking how she felt?

And just like that, Angel felt the tension melt away from his relief.

Thank god!

He had a love… mostly hate relationship with Val’s shit. On one hand, damn did it feel good. It was a hell of a high. Practically like you were floating. Made getting it up easier and more fun, made you more sensitive… Hell, even the smell and taste grew on you after a while, became delicious. It just gave an overall liberating feeling.

On the other hand, the liberating feeling it gave was a facade, a trap. It was a highly addictive substance. One full hit, and it was over. Your body would want more. More more more more- and it was never enough! And god were the withdrawals awful. Your body would be convinced it would fucking die without it. It was quite possible it would. It made you desperate for more. It made you reliant on the provider. Made you come back to them. Gave you no choice but to stay with them. It was a never ending cycle, a whirlpool you’d have no chance of escaping except to concede and drown.

He would know. He’s tried. He’s tried to quit it. One day and he was desperate to satiate that craving his body demanded. He’s actively trying to figure out how to wane it. No such luck so far. And going clean has not been helping.

And fuck did Val take advantage of it. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? It made business good for him. All he had to do was pay them the bare minimum and a hit from him or drugs laced with it, and that would be enough for them. Sometimes to make a job go by smoother, he’d give it to them to make them nice and ready. He could do anything he wanted to anyone hooked on his shit, and they would never be able to do shit about it…

So little to say, Angel was glad. He was glad Val didn’t manage to pull this one in. He wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Let alone…

“... That’s all I wanted to know…”

Charlie looked up at him, inching a hand to one of his arms before pausing.

… After his reaction last night… probably not a good idea…

She pulled her hand away before finishing off her drink.

“Well, you should probably go get you something to eat. I don’t think you’ve had anything since lunchtime yesterday. There might still be gombo left.”

He looked at her, a brow raised.

“Since when did we have gumbo yestaday?”

“Since we came back after your show. Al’s idea.”

Ah… made sense…

Charlie then stood up from the stool.

“... And.. hey… if you ever need to talk about something… anything at all… I’m here, okay…?”

Oh yikes-

Angel had to keep from rolling his eyes. Instead, he took a sip from his wine.

Wow she just went straight for that, didn’t she?

“A-And I mean anything at all. When you’re ready. I want to be here for you anyway I can… If you’re not ready yet… if we’re not there yet… that’s fine… there’s plenty of time… But I just want you to know… anytime… okay…?”

“... I’ll keep that in mind, sweetheart…” he said, noncommittal.

If it would get her to shut up. Not that he was thinking of ever considering it.

Charlie gave a hopeful smile at that.

“Now go feed yourself! I’ll be in the office area. Uh… Just uh… Just in case you need something… something maybe not as heavy like… Like to borrow a CD or something.”

He huffed out a small laugh at that.

“Alright…”

And with that, she bounded to the office area.

Yes, there was absolutely no commitment to him saying he would keep it in mind. She would have to be blind to not notice that. But the seed was still planted. She won’t expect him to talk about whatever he’s going through today, tomorrow, next week, or even next year. But that’s fine. They had all the time in the world for him to feel ready to open up. And when he was, she’d be right here waiting for him.

Angel sat there and watched her leave before standing up, still holding what remained of his wine in one hand as he made his way to the kitchen.

God this bitch just keeps getting weirder and weirder. Yeah, let’s divulge all the gorey details of his afterlife. That’ll be fun for everyone. The sentiments were nice for sure, but she knew nothing about him. And a large chunk of him was convinced it was better that way. This isn’t a fairytale. This was reality. Ugly, brutal reality-

We want to help you.

… Then again, this wouldn’t be the first time Charlie has tried to give the metaphorical finger to reality. That’s exactly what this hotel was, after all. Not out of the ordinary for her, really.

… Silly...

[grizzlysam]

the grizz sam reunion we deserved, read under the cut :)

sam thought it was a little funny how despite the fact that there were hardly any patients in the hospital for a long long time now, it still smelled horribly of hospital. it was a disgusting smell, sterile to the brink of nauseating. it was gross, not to mention boring. the only entertainment in the entire five story building was old magazines, a hormonal becca, and a crying eden. the past four days had driven him crazy, but if he was being honest it wasn’t their fault. not the girls, or the smell, or the lack of literally anything to do. it was the fact that grizz was in the middle of the woods and there was no way to contact him, and he couldn’t even complain about it to anybody unless it was in casual passing conversation. any news on the expedition since y’know, i’m head over heels for grizz and if something happens to him i will lose it entirely. yea, totally casual and cool.

beccas tugging on the sleeve of sams shirt, no doubt to tell him that eden was crying again. sam looks up from the spot he was staring a hole into and meets his eyes to beccas.

are you feeling okay? she signs, lips moving along with her words.

yea, lies, just worried about... everything. this election is a disaster, and i just know somehow campbell is behind it. harry was vulnerable, weak. that’s his specialty, and while we have two idiots running around and setting the world on fire we don’t even know if we’ll have food by may. it’s just... a lot. beccas brow was furrowed, and sam couldn’t figure out why. he hadn’t said anything horribly out of character.

you haven't heard? sam laughed

nope, nothing for a while actually! becca rolled her eyes and reached over to playfully shove at sams arm.

i hate you, i mean yesterday! gordie was in here checking up on eden and he told us that the expedition team is back, they found land. he signed it for you too. sams heart skips a beat, no scratch that. it does fifty million little back flips in his chest. he reminds himself to calm down, reminds his heart to not balloon to the size of a house.

oh, he begins, that’s good. when did they get back? becca shrugs, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she begins to sign.

about two days ago i’m guessing, so yea. we’ll at least have food, even if we do have two idiots running the place. the two of them laughed, but sam wasn’t really there. he was in his own head space again, back to staring a hole into the tiled floor.

grizz had been back for two days. forty eight hours, and he hadn’t even stopped by. hadn’t even texted. probably hadn’t even asked where sam was, or else becca would have told him just now. the house shaped balloon in his chest quickly deflated as he ran through every explanation. he’s tired, he’s injured, he’s trying to think of what to say, trying to think of what to do, trying-

becca pulls on his sleeve again, and he looks up to see her saying ‘she’s crying’ and that’s when it hits sam. it’s not about what grizz is or isn’t. it’s about how sam is a dad, and he can’t even explain it to him.

**

grizz has been back in new ham for two days, and everything is horrible. lexie is like a neo-hitler, and harry is almost under some weird campbell mind control spell. no one has gone to work, the trash in the streets is already starting to pile up, and there hasn’t been food in the cafeteria for either of the days. everything is shit, and grizz isn’t even allowed to speak to allie and figure out what is actually happening.

truly though, he shouldn’t be surprised. it’s just his luck that he’s lounging in the middle of the woods smoking pot while the second civil war is breaking out, and his heroic gay love interest is have a baby. he remembers when gordie and kelly told their team the news, over dinner the night they arrived home. first they explained the election, how allie and will ‘rigged it’, then they talked about becca. sam too, which made grizzs heart squeeze in a not bad yet not good way, but the two mostly talked about becca. how happy she was to finally be a mom, how their little baby girl- eden-was like a gorgeous spark of hope. grizz thought so too, like a flower sprouting through the cracks of a sidewalk. he was happy for them, but he also wanted to see sam. not just see him, feel him. hear him. hold him.

grizz had dreamed while in the forest, a dream about sam. he could hear the boy, it even sounded like he was close, but no matter where he looked it was barren. grizz couldn’t tell if it was  comforting or sad, but it had caused him to wake up feeling heavy and a little bit sad. he wanted to go see sam and becca and eden, but he didn’t even know what he would say. there were all of these horrible and thick layers piled onto it, and grizz so wished it didn’t matter. he wished that he could just pick off all of the bad (i.e: sam is the father, grizz was definitely too harsh, this is a lifetime commitment) and keep all of the undeniable good (becca is happy, grizz thinks he could fall in love with sam, and nothing else matters except it does.)

**

sam has typed up approximately fifteen text messages to grizz asking where in the world he is and why he hasn’t even bothered with stopping in to see him at the very least, just to delete every single word and go back to rocking eden in her crib. becca and sam leave the hospital with eden tomorrow and move beccas house. it’ll be weird living together fully as opposed to the ‘i’m here most the time but i don’t have a suitcase’, but then again everything is weird now. what’s weirdest is how upset it makes sam that he hasn’t seen grizz in a week.

sam looks up from his spot on the floor, rolling his neck to stretch it out and out of the corner of his eye sees the baby flailing her arms. quickly he gets up and walks over to her, scooping her frail body into his arms. he bounces her in his arms, quickly pressing his lips into her head and shushing her. eden is truly precious, more so than any diamond or metal you could find in the ground. newborn babies are typically... well, not the prettiest, but not eden. her skin is smooth around her face, and the color of caramel like beccas, with big eyes, almost the size of flying saucers. when she smiles it wraps around sams heart like a vice, and it almost makes him forget that he’s not really her biological father. because sam? he would do anything for this baby girl.

once she’s stopped crying he set her back into her crib, and started moving to his seat. except he never got there, because he saw someone in the doorway. for a moment fear spikes in sams chest, thinking that campbell has come to pay his niece a visit, but this person is too tall. too soft around the edges.

“welcome back grizz, how nice of you to visit us.” visit me! how nice of you to visit me!

“hey, um… hi. how’s becca?” sam shrugs.

“she’s okay. tired. ready to go home tomorrow.” grizz nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“so that’s tomorrow,” sam nods, and things fall silent, “i um… can you go somewhere with me? just really quick, promise it won’t take long. i just want to talk with you.” sam looks at becca who’s sleeping like a rock on her bed, despite the noise, and then he looks at eden who’s also sleeping safe and sound. what if someone comes to hurt them? well, it’s not really like sam would be much help anyways. he looks at grizz, eyes full of sadness and longing, and he decides that he can’t say no.

“let me write becca a note.” he scribbles it and leaves it on her bedside table, along with the ridiculous amount of balloons people brought her. it reads ‘i am talking with grizz, locked the door so you might have to let kelly and gordie in, not sure when i’ll be back. if i’m not here by the time you’re discharged i’ll meet you at your house.’ and with that he left.

the car ride was long, and not exactly awkward but… quiet. he knew grizz wasn’t saying anything, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. if anything sam kind of appreciated it, after all the crying with becca and eden. it’s not like he could really hear the noise, but he could feel the commotion, the oh shit of when eden was crying for the tenth time in an hour, or the what did i do? when becca started bawling her eyes out. the hospital was chaos most of the time, so right now in grizzs car with none of the commotion of sound was paradise. there was no pressure to say anything, just sam and grizz. existing in each others presence.

grizz stopped the car and let out a big sigh. he turned over to sam, and it made the boys heart squeeze. he had a few cuts around his face, one high up on his cheekbone, one just under his chin, and his eyes had heavy bags under them. grizz had definitely seen better days, but it didn’t matter. he was still so unbelievably handsome to sam. he was like when you stay up really late into the night and everything becomes funny and every line is less harsh than it was before.

“you tired?” sam asked, grizz nodded then shuffled in his seat.

“yea. very, but i couldn’t sleep and i knew it was time to see you. to talk about… everything.” sam nodded, fiddling with his thumbs, “let’s get out. i wanted to start a log fire, because… well, i don’t really know why. but-” sam grabs the boys hands. they’re rough, calloused, and it feels nice against sams soft hands.

“you can start a fire, i told becca i didn’t know when i was going to be back.” grizz nods, smiling ever so slightly, and then gets out of the car. sams about to do the same, until he notices grizz running around the front of the car and nearly tripping over his own feet. when grizz is at the car door he opens it up to a laughing sam.

“what was that?” he questions, and grizz tucks a piece of hair behind his ear.

“i was trying to get the door for you, but i’m a disaster and started falling.” grizz had one hand one sams shoulder and one on the dashboard, all the mean while turning sams legs into gelatin.

“it was cute,” he says, eyes settling just on grizzs lips, “you’re cute.” sam so badly wants to lean in, close the gap between them and just forget all of the melodrama, forget the yelling and crying. but he can’t, not before they talk about it. he settled instead for resting his head on grizzs shoulder, letting the kiss die out on their lips. he feels grizz talking, and he doesn’t even need to look up to know what the other boy is saying. regardless, sam looks up to meet grizzs eyes.

“i’m gonna go and start up the fire.” sam nods, wanting so badly to grab grizzs hand, to keep him right where he is. but he doesn’t, and grizz goes over to the small campsite that they’re parked at and starts to pile firewood into the pit. sam can see that he’s pitched a tent, and that there’s a picnic basket on top of the table. it makes him smile, knowing that grizz still cares.

sam waits until he can see the golden glow of the fire to go over to the campsite, and when he does go over he’s greeted with the cutest sight he’s ever seen. next to the fire pit there’s a red checkered blanket spread out on the ground, with two plates set on top of it. grizz has moved the picnic basket so that it’s now set in between the two plates and opened up to show one bottle of champagne and a book. sam looks to grizz and smiles.

“the book is othello, my uh… it’s my favorite shakespeare.” sam nods, still not able to get over the novelty that is a romantic campsite set up by none other than garreth visser, “i shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. i was scared and i just… i like you so much. i always have, ever since i first saw you and had absolutely no idea how to talk to you. getting to be with you was like a dream but then i found out that you’re a dad and that’s a life long commitment, but so is what we’re doing right? i mean we might not ever make it home, so really what we do now determines forever,” grizz sighs, running his hands through his hair and starting to pace, “okay here’s the thing, i am not making sense. i am rambling and not making sense, but that’s okay because absolutely nothing else makes sense right now either. nothing, except for you. when you kissed me for the first time, a spark went off and everything felt right and all of the puzzle pieces came together and i don’t want to lose that. i thought about it, and really i can’t be mad at you for wanting to take care of your kid. that’s really what the precedent should be, so yea. i can overlook that, but i need you to promise me that we can come out with this. i’ve spent too long hiding, and i don’t want to anymore okay? i don't care about all of the questions we’ll get, i just… want to be with you.” sams heart is beating so fast, he can feel the thumping down to his toes. grizz still wants this, still wants him. this adorable setup isn’t just a sweet farewell, it’s a beginning.

sam nods, stepping around the blanket so he can be closer to grizz, “okay. we can come out with this, we can tell everyone, shout it from the rooftops, i don’t care. i’d do anything if it meant i got to be with you.” grizzs face lights up, eyes sparking as bright as the fire next to them. once sam is in arms reach grizz pulls him as close as possible, placing his hand back onto sams shoulder. 

  “does this mean i can kiss you now?” the words are falling off of his lips like honey, and the only thing sam can even think of doing is going up on his tiptoes to kiss him. so that’s what he does, plants a long tender kiss on his lips, hands curling into his hair and thinking the words i am falling in love with you, over and over again.

[ghostofviperwrites]

You're Wrong

Requested by Anonymous

Pairing:  Naito/FC

“You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.”

The sound of a resounding smack and a loud curse of “Asshole!”  rang through the air making you smirk and shake your head ruefully.  You grabbed your little green notebook and made another tally mark and notation of the incident on the sheet.  Already seven and it wasn’t even noon you chuckled to yourself.   You had been working with Tetsuya Naito and his brothers of Los Ingobernables de Japon for about two months now, essentially acting as a glorified gopher.  Sometimes you felt like you were herding cats trying to keep these guys in line, not counting the actual stuffed cat that was vital to the wellbeing of Hiromu Takahashi. During that time, you had been fascinated by Tetsuya.  The sheer number of women that flocked to him was amazing.  But what had really caught your attention was the fact that, despite him being a complete and total asshole, women still jumped to be with him.   And he seemed to be teaching his ways to his fellow LIJ members, judging by their attitudes towards the fairer sex.

A few days ago, you were battling with Tetsuya yet again to get his ass moving and for once in his life arrive somewhere on time.   You had no idea when you had agreed to take this task on that Naito truly lived up to his “tranquilo” phrase. He acted like everything he had to do was a major inconvenience to him.   About the only things he showed any passion for were wrestling and fucking.  

Already at the end of your rope after having spent the morning arguing with Evil over his refusal to answer or even return your phone calls; you had snapped at Naito and called him an asshole.  A word that seemed to be directed at him with alarming regularity. He had simply gotten a filthy smile and looked at you in a way he really hadn’t before, eyeing you as if he was imagining you stripped bare.  

“You know when most women call me an asshole they end up fucking me pretty quickly after.”  He had said laughing as you had shrieked, flipped him the middle finger and stormed out of his room.  

After you had ranted to yourself for a while you calmed down a bit and realized you had to learn to go with the flow unless you wanted to pull your hair out at the roots.  So, you had set about doing just that, making yourself find the humor in situations rather than getting angry.  It had worked well so far, and you had found yourself chuckling every time Naito had been called an asshole.  This had awoken your curiosity and you wondered, just how many times a day did he get called an asshole?  It seemed to happen with such frequency you hadn’t been able to keep up.  Thus, you decided to entertain yourself by keeping a tally.  You bought a little notebook with an attached pen and religiously wrote down every time someone called him one, as well as the surrounding incident.  Some were more detailed then others, depending whether you witnessed it first hand or just overheard it.   Paying such close attention also brought about the disgusting realization that Naito was in fact correct in proclaiming that women tended to fall in bed with him after calling him an asshole.  At this point you were honestly shocked his dick hadn’t fallen off. There was no way a human being could possibly fuck that much.  And fuck well apparently based on the tittering and smiles on his conquests’ faces when he was finished with them.  

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening you continued tallying instances of Naito earning his moniker all the while continuing to direct the boys where they needed to be and trying to corral the headstrong leader.   The night was almost coming to a close, you are waiting in the LIJ locker room with Sanada and Evil as Bushi, Naito and Hiromu were participating in a triple tag match.   You were busy tabulating the day’s total in your notebook and not paying any mind to Sanada and Evil.  

“What’s in that little book of yours?”  Sanada suddenly asked reaching around and grabbing your notebook before you could react.   He barely paid you any mind, the last thing you were expecting was his impose.

“Give that to me!”  You demanded rising to your feet and attempting to snatch your book back from him. Which was proving impossible given the fact that he towered over you by several inches.   If he saw what you were doing, you could probably kiss your job goodbye.  You were pretty sure that mocking your boss was grounds for termination.  

Your heart sank as Sanda opened the book his eyes widening as he read your entry.  

“Oh, this is gold!”  he announced loudly.

“What does it say?”  Evil asked moving closer to the unfolding drama.  

“How many times has Tetsuya Naito been called an Asshole Today?”  Sanada read chuckling.   Evil’s gaze darted to you before he too began laughing. “That’s not all, she describes the incidents in detail as well.”

“I’m sure Naito will be just thrilled to learn about this.”   Evil said.

“Naito will be thrilled to learn about what?”  the man himself said, having just waltzed into the locker room, Hiromu and Bushi trailing behind him.  Your head hung as you braced yourself to be immediately terminated.  

“Y/N here has been keeping a record of how many times you have been called an asshole each day.”  Sanada said, casting a smirk in your direction as he noticed your discomfort.  He held the book out to Naito who took it and flipped through the pages outlining the incidents, reading through them with an impassive expression.  

“Your numbers are wrong.”  He said, turning his seemingly unperturbed stare on you.  

“No, they’re not.”  You protested.  If you were going to get fired for this, you were at least going to defend your work.   “That is completely accurate.  You were called an asshole twelve times today.” You said firmly.  

“You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.” Naito countered.  

“No, you won’t because I’m not wrong.”   You proclaimed.  You had been meticulous in writing down the instances and were positive in your calculations.  

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” Naito said, a calculating expression settling on his face.  “Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is, so to speak?”  

“What do you mean?”  You asked narrowing your eyes at his self-satisfied expression.  

“If I cannot prove your tally is wrong I will let this slide.  I will not fire you and I will become a model client.  I won’t give you any more shit.”  He promised.  You smiled at his words.  You would get to keep your job and Naito would behave himself?  You were all for that.  A twinge of doubt stopped you from accepting right away.

“And if I am proven incorrect?”  You asked needing to see what you faced should you be wrong.

“If I prove you wrong…. you blow me.”  He said, shouts of encouragement breaking out from his brothers.  

Your breath hitched as an image on you on your knees with Naito’s cock in your mouth.   You would admit it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant thought.  “Can I look at my book one more time?”  You asked.

Naito gladly handed over the book, that same confident expression on his face as you read through your notes. Your confidence returned as you easily recalled each of the instances, nothing sticking out as being missing as you thought of the day.

“Okay, I accept.  Prove me wrong.”  You challenged.

“You have twelve times written down.   There should be sixteen.”  He said simply, putting his hand up to stop you as you shook your head and prepared to rebut.  

“You are very accurate. You are correct in every incident you did write down.”  He praised.  “But you missed a couple.”  

“What did I miss?”  You asked sarcastically.  

“You didn’t write down the times you yourself called me an asshole.”  He proclaimed, a shit eating grin breaking on his face as he watched the dawning realization blooming on your face.   He was correct, you had called him an asshole at least four times today, but you hadn’t put your own interactions in the book.  

Naito insisted on collecting his prize immediately, the rest of LIJ filtering out of the room when Naito granted your request of privacy.  It was as he was coming down your throat, watching you swallow down his load that Naito announced that you were fired.  Pulling off him and rising to your feet you sputtered, unable to form an intelligent response.  Only one word coming to mind.

“Asshole!” You shouted storming out of the locker room.

“That’s seventeen!”  he called after you, his laughter echoing down the hall after you.  

[generallynerdy]

Tiny (Bucky Barnes X Male!Reader)

Summary: Tony Stark and Bruce Banner have one rule-- well, one rule that everyone actually tries to listen to-- in the compound. And that’s not to mess around in their lab. But when the cat’s away, the mice will play. Then, one of the mice will get hit with a shrink ray and actually become mouse-sized.

Requested by HauntRavensong (AO3): I had a prompt in mind. Only if you don't mind and I know you're busy. The prompt is that male reader (again, only if you don't mind) and Bucky are playing with the electronics in the lab and reader gets shrunk so Bucky takes up the mantle of watching out for him until it gets reversed. Maybe some snark and teasing from any of the others about the situation :3

Key: (Y/N) - your name

Warnings: Cursing probably, what’s an infinity wade

Word Count: 1,470

Note: i used this thing called Fighter’s Block (google it) and wrote this in like 20 minutes??? holy shit. also babe i will write whatever pronouns reader u want, i am physically incapable of being consistent anyway lmao

Tony had exactly one rule in the compound. Well, admittedly, he had a lot of rules. But there was only one that the team actually paid attention to. Tony and Bruce were very touchy about their labs and their rule was that no one-- no one-- was allowed to mess with stuff in the lab. Of course, it's the Avengers, so one would think they have the sense to listen to each other, at least on occasion.

You are an Avenger and you know this to be false.

If there is one team in the world that won't listen to orders, it's them.

One day, you and one of your best friends of the team, Bucky, were bored. You were bored out of your minds, because no bad guys decided to come out of hiding for the day and none of your teammates were around to entertain you. Bucky wasn't allowed out of the compound since the whole Civil War incident, so there wasn't much to do otherwise. That said, you probably shouldn't have agreed to his idea of sneaking into Tony and Bruce's lab, no matter how bored you were. But you agreed anyway.

Most of the lab's toys were pretty standard, but once you figured out Tony's passcode to the back part of the lab-- it was Morgan, of course-- things got way more fun.

"What does this look like to you?" Bucky hummed, holding up a box painted in Cap's signature colours.

You shrugged. "Something for Cap probably."

"Well, yeah, but what does he have in mind for the punk?" He teased.

Weapons were plentiful in the lab, but so were suits of armour. You found a few updated War Machine sets, a few bow and arrow upgrades for Clint, and even an anesthetic meant for the Hulk. A label warned that it hadn't been tested yet, though.

"Woah," Bucky breathed out, holding up a ray-gun looking thing. "What's this?"

"Freeze ray?" You asked.

He laughed. "Wouldn't put it past Stark. It doesn't really look like one, though, does it?"

You walked over to him and plucked the gun from his hands, turning it around with curiosity. "Weird," you muttered to yourself.

Upon later consideration, you decided you should've been safer when handling a gun. Alas, present you had the genius idea to look down the barrel directly, trying to get an idea of what powered it.

Then, it shot you straight in the face and you blacked out.

When you came to, presumably hours later, you could hear nothing but Bucky freaking out. He was talking to himself and pacing, from what you could hear, but when you opened your eyes…

You weren't sure where you were. You were on metal ground and something akin to a giant stapler was beside you, but it was all you could see before you looked up. Holy. Shit.

Bucky was a lot taller than you remembered. In fact, you didn't remember anyone ever being that tall.

"Uh...Buck?" You asked, looking down at your hands.

He turned to you in a sort of slow-motion movement. "Oh thank God, you're awake. Are you okay? Except for the tiny thing, I mean..."

"Tiny...?" You looked down at yourself and suddenly it all made sense. "A SHRINK RAY!?"

"It's okay! It's okay!" Bucky instantly said. "Don't freak out. I'm gonna go find Stark and we'll figure everything out. Let's get going."

"Oh no," you whined as he held out his hand for you to climb onto. "The others are never gonna let this one go."

"What do you MEAN (Y/N) shrunk himself?" Tony raved over the phone.

Bucky sighed. "Just what I said. He pointed the gun at his face--"

Bruce, who was standing beside Tony from what you could see on the screen, sighed and rubbed his face. "We have one rule, you guys. One, single rule."

"Sorry!" You squeaked, having to shout for them to hear you. "We were really bored and, well, Tony's passcode is like the easiest thing ever."

"I'll kill you," he hissed. "I'll kill both of you."

"Whatever," Bucky said, diverting the conversation. "Just come back here and fix him already."

"That's gonna be a problem, guys."

"Uh oh," you said as soon as the words left his mouth.

Bucky clenched his free fist, seeing as his left was holding you up for them to see. "What kind of problem are we talking?"

"We just got called to a situation out here," Tony explained. "HYDRA is all over this stinking place."

Bruce chimed in. "We won't be free to go until it's cleared up. We don't know how long it'll take."

Bucky facepalmed. "Great. Just...great."

For the next few days, it was you and Bucky against the world. And it wasn't a pretty world to say the least.

Being tiny was much more difficult than people gave it credit for and not 5'2" kind of tiny, but more like a few inches kind of tiny. How Scott Lang ever managed it, you have no idea. Everything you wanted to do required help, because everything you needed was made for big people.

Even making a cup of coffee just to feel life in your veins in the morning was a pain.

Everyone thought it was pretty hilarious, too, except for Bucky. Sam would burst into laughter at the sight of you jumping up and down on the TV remote just to get to the channel you wanted. Thor thought you putting PopTarts in the toaster was pretty great, too. Bucky was the only one who took your frustration seriously.

In fact, he was the one to come up with a solution.

"Now, I'm not saying it's ideal..." He started.

"Please," you interrupted, "I just need to not have to ask someone to do everything for me anytime I need something."

Okay, so his plan did include that, but it was a specific person: him.

He wore shirts with pockets. It was a miraculous little thing, but it made your whole life terrifyingly simple. He carried you everywhere and anywhere, all over the compound.

After talking to Scott, he even had a few more ideas. There was a little makeshift bed for you on his nightstand, just in case of midnight emergencies, that was made out of a shoe. Scott gave you a few of his shrinking disks to shrink down some silverware and other necessities, so eating became impossibly easier. Admittedly, you had gone swimming in a cup of coffee more than once. Nobody thought that was funny. They either thought it was relatable, like Peter and Shuri, or kind of disgusting.

But Buck stayed with you the whole time.

Four days into it, you were sleeping peacefully when he poked at your shoe-bed.

"Leave me alone," you muttered into the blankets. "I don't wanna get up."

"C'mon, (Y/N)," he said. "You've made it this far. Just give it a few more days."

You groaned. "If this has to go on for a few more days, I will die. If Sam has Redwing chase me around anymore I'm just gonna jump off the roof."

"Hey, don't talk like that." He huffed at your silence. "(Y/N), you're not dying."

"Really?" You asked drowsily. "Because it feels like it."

Bucky sighed and, despite your protests, grabbed your PJ shirt between his index finger and his thumb, pulling you from the bed. He held you up in front of his face. "(Y/N)," he chided.

"I don't like being manhandled," you muttered mutinously, crossing your arms.

The soldier gave a devilish grin. "Speaking of being manhandled...I know how to cheer you up."

Bucky knew the way to your heart. A good movie and great snacks was an instant win. Of course, it helped that the movie was Night at the Museum, then the second one, then the third one after it. He just knew all the ways to get you to like him and, to be honest, you liked him a lot more than you would like to admit.

Anyway, you really related to the tiny cowboy and his Roman boyfriend. Being tiny sucked.

Nobody understood the struggle like they did. Maybe it was why Bucky wanted to watch the movie with you. That was sweet of him.

You were just finishing up the third movie when FRIDAY spoke over the PA system.

"Sergeant Barnes, Agent (Y/N)," she said. "Boss said to tell you he's home."

"OH THANK GOD!" You exclaimed. You leapt from the edge of the popcorn bowl by instinct and landed on Bucky's hand, which was outstretched for you already.

Okay, so maybe you had gotten used to the tiny thing. And maybe you had gotten used to being with Bucky 24/7. But your point still stood. Being tiny sucked.

Masterlist

[rainforestgeek]

If you lose your strength to stand (I’m gonna reach for your hand) pt. 9 “Tell Me it’s Not for Nothing”

Part 8

AO3 link

--

The next morning Keith woke up from the deepest sleep he’d had in years. Light breath purred against his neck. Matt’s arm draped over his side and they lay pressed together back-to-chest. He was loathe to leave the warm bed, or disturb Matt, but Keith had things to do. He’d indulged in this comfort long enough.

He carefully extricated himself from the blankets, slipping out of Matt’s hold and into the cool ship air. He gathered his space suit and armor from the floor and started getting dressed.

Keith was strapping his blade to his belt when Matt stirred. He sat up and stretched. Keith indulgently took in his lithe, muscular torso and toned shoulders. It felt so good to be explicitly allowed to look. Especially with the memory of all that smooth skin under his hands. Matt grinned sleepily. “Hey.”

“Morning. You should get ready. It’s probably gonna be a long day.”

“So romantic.”

Keith’s face burned. He mentally scrambled for a response.

“Sorry, I’m just kidding.” Matt got up and gave Keith’s temple a gentle kiss before pulling on his pants.

Keith relaxed, relieved. Words returned to him. “I’m going to the dining hall. You should stay and eat breakfast here. I know Pidge’ll be happy to see you, too.” He made to leave.

“Wait, Keith.”

He stopped and turned back.

“Um.” Seeing Matthew Holt look uncertain was so bizarre. He kept looking from the floor to the ceiling and back to the floor.

Keith waited.

“Last night, I ran into Lance in the hallway. Is…should…you’ve known him for a while now. What kind of guy is he?”

Uh. Out of left fucking field. But then again, most questions came across to Keith that way. “In summary, he’s a dependable idiot.”

“What do you mean by idiot?”

“He pretends to be an asshole. It’s distracting when he flirts with girls on missions.”

“Has he ever flirted with Pidge?”

He thought for a second. “I don’t think so. Matt, if you’re worried about Lance playing Pidge or something, don’t. They’re close. He wouldn’t do that.” He hesitated, then, trying to be comforting, took Matt’s hand and squeezed it.

Matt’s eyes focused on him. He leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, lingering a moment. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith couldn’t understand why a simple kiss like that flustered him so much when they’d had sex just last night. He swallowed. “See you at breakfast.”

Out in the hallway he saw Lance in his street clothes standing in front of Pidge’s room. He didn’t do anything, just stared at the door with his hands deep in his pockets.

“What are you doing?”

Lance jumped. “Umnothingjust – ”

“Okay, wrong question. Why are you standing outside Pidge’s room instead of knocking like a normal person?”

“Are you really telling me what normal people do?” He glared at Keith, but there was no real heat in his voice. He started walking in the direction of the dining hall. “Whatever. I just…we’re dealing with so much stuff today and I don’t know if she’s still asleep and she’d rip my face off if I woke her up, so excuse me for being a tiny bit afraid of knocking.”

Keith fell into step with him. “Don’t worry about it. Coran will get Pidge out of bed.”

“Why are we still talking about Pidge?”

“Why are you talking about Pidge?”

“Because you are!”

“I’m not the one waiting outside her bedroom first thing in the morning.”

“You – !” All the blood rushed to Lance’s face and he huffed like an agitated dragon. Keith had almost forgotten how fun it was riling him up. And familiar. He couldn’t resist poking further.

“Did you need to tell her something in private? Something secret?”

“I CANNOT believe I actually missed you, you jerk!” Lance stormed off ahead.

You did? Keith thought.

That was weird hearing so directly from Lance. He knew Pidge and Hunk did, and obviously Shiro –

His fists clenched. Shiro wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for a long time. Keith physically restrained himself from punching something.

He never did see Pidge that morning. She wasn’t at breakfast, and she wasn’t at the tactical meeting with Emperor Lotor either. Coran and Lotor and the other paladins were on the bridge when he followed Matt inside, star maps projected through the air, but no sign of their smartest teammate. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Where’s Pidge?” Hunk asked.

“Sequestered in my rooms with the mice,” Allura said. “She is running analyses on data she gathered from the clone. She came to tell me earlier and I decided not to interrupt her progress.”

“Speaking of which. How the hell did a galra spy get on board the Castle?” Lance demanded.

Keith avoided eye contact when he replied. “I don’t get it. The Black Lion took me to him. She recognized him as Shiro.”

“Yeah. Can’t the Lions, like, see inside our souls?” Hunk asked. “Unless you can make an exact copy of somebody’s brain it doesn’t make sense. Wait, is that possible?”

“It’s irrelevant,” Allura said. “The Lions bond with our quintessence. The very fundamental energies of our lives.”

“So how do you copy quintessence?”

“You cannot. Not even the Druids are capable of such magic.” Lotor looked thoughtful. “Shiro spent time as a prisoner of the empire, yes? Fighting for entertainment?”

“What’s your point?” Matt said.

“He has a cyborg prosthetic arm, work of the Druids no doubt. Which means they must possess the original arm. It's probable they extracted its quintessence and grew it in the clone.”

Lance made a disgusted noise. “How do you do that with a dead arm?!”

“Keeping the tissue alive is a simple matter for Haggar, Red Paladin.”

“It is revolting. But more than possible,” Allura agreed.

“But that’s still just speculation,” Matt said. “We know there’s been a spy inside Voltron. It doesn’t matter how if we don’t know why. What specifically does she want out of all this? Why hasn’t she used more insider information?”

“It’d be invaluable to know, Matt. But on that we also have nothing but speculation. What do you think, Lotor?” Allura asked.

He frowned. “I agree that the witch’s plan is of the utmost importance; however, I would remind you, Princess: it must not compromise our efforts to stabilize the rest of the galra,” Lotor said.

Lance half-raised his hand. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t that plan in danger as long as we don’t know what Haggar is up to?”

“So we’ll multitask.” Allura sighed. “It is risky, I know. But concentrating our efforts solely on the rogue galra or the Druids would allow the other threat to grow unchecked. We must do our best to tackle both problems at once. I would still like your assistance with the rogues and quintessence, Hunk.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been studying Honerva’s science log and I’ve got some ideas.”

“In the meantime,” said Lance, “I’m gonna question Ezor. See what she has to say for herself.”

Keith snorted. Something about Lance leading an interrogation struck him as funny. “What are you going to do – annoy her into talking?”

“Ha, ha, laugh it up Mullet, you’re coming down there with me.”

“Of course I am! She could tell us where Shiro is.” Keith realized as the echo died around him that he'd shouted.

Lance gripped his shoulder. “We’ll get answers this time, Keith. I promise.”

Matt pitched in,“Pidge told me last night she’s making something that can help with that.”

Lance let go and took a step away from them. He said, “That sounds scary. Should I be scared?”

Matt fixed him with a look. One that Keith wasn’t familiar with. “Should you?”

Swallowing visibly, Lance replied, “Of Pidge or anything she makes? As a rule, terrified.”

Matt seemed to like that answer. Keith felt some kind of subtext between the two that definitely went over his head.

--

Lance wondered how many half galra they were going to have behind this glass. They were at two, now. One more and it’s a pattern.

Matt followed them down, making Lance feel tense.  His face was as closed-off as it had been last night, except this time without the joking mask. Now his expression was straight-up stone. But hopefully having his new boyfriend around would help Keith keep from going off like an IED.

Keith on the other hand had his arms crossed. Pretty standard Keith stuff.

Ezor was laying on the floor with her feet propped against the wall. Her soles smushed against the glass, smearing traces of dirt on it.

Keith hit the big intercom button. “Time to talk.”

The galra swung her feet down and sat up to look at them. “Ooooh, the underlings grace me with their presence. Where’s Mr. Bitch Slap and Miss Queen of the Universe?”

Lance stepped closer to the glass and tried to look confident. “Sorry. You won’t be seeing the princess any time soon, let alone get your hands on her.”

Ezor cocked her head. “Whelp, sucks for me, because that sort of impedes me doing my job.”

“Okay. You’re fired.”

“Lucky me.”

“Look, we don’t care about you. We want to know where Haggar is.”

“What’s in it for me?” She asked lazily, leaning back on her hands.

“We don’t kill you,” Keith growled.

Ezor shrugged. “Eh. That sounds about right. Haggar’s probably with Sendak, pulling his little puppet strings.”

“That would mean she’s dead. Which we know isn’t true.” Matt sounded just the tiniest bit proud despite performing his best imitation of an ice statue.

“Huh. Then I don’t know.”

“Hey Lance, I’m smelling a giant pile of horse shit,” Matt said, turning to face him.

Lance bit back a snicker. “It’s really stinking up the place. Think we should eject it?”

“Can’t smell it if it’s in space.”

“Rude.” Ezor protested.

“Then make yourself useful, and quick.”

She huffed. “I don’t have a tracker on the woman, I don’t know where she is.”

“But you’re working for her. You and the other generals,” Lance said.

“Look, we’re just trying to survive by now, okay? Lotor went bozo – years of dedicated service all to become universal outcasts. Most people would do anything to avoid execution and I’m no exception. But I must say, this is the nicest cell I’ve been in so far.”

“You’re a mercenary.”

“And dodging the question.” Matt narrowed his eyes. “If you want to stay alive, then tell us what you know about Haggar’s plan. What’s she after?”

“Oh that’s easy: take down Voltron. You’re really slow around here.”

“From the inside. Nice try, but no cigar," Lance snarked.

Keith whispered. “I don’t think she smokes.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” he whispered back.

“Oh good job! You found the little project she planted.” Ezor’s tone was more condescending than all Lance’s most hateful middle school teachers combined. “Guess you do have two neurons to rub together if you weeded out the spy.”

“What has she done with Shiro?” Keith demanded.

“The original? That one’s probably dead.”

The words hit Lance like falling hail. He waited for Keith to blow up at her. When nothing happened, he glanced to his left to see Matt squeezing Keith from behind in a tight hug. Keith’s eyes slid shut and his breathing evened out.

Matt looked at the general evenly. “You’re lying. You were on the ground, alone. You had to have set up a rendezvous point.”

Lance swallowed back the ice in his throat. “Yeah! Where were you gonna go after killing Allura?”

All three of them jumped at what happened next: Ezor fell onto the floor and started cackling. She laughed so loud she clearly couldn’t breathe. Her red face turned magenta.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Keith said.

“She – does not – want the pri – princess dead, you primitive worms. My – ” she took a moment to regain her composure. “My orders were to kidnap the princess.”

“Then where was the rendezvous point?!”

She smirked. “Right at the border of the Patrulian Zone. You can chase her there if you want, but if you go there you’ll definitely die.”

Patrulian Zone…Patrulian Zone…Quiznak, why did that sound so familiar?

Matt frowned. “She’s right. No one uses any route through that section of space anymore. Too many ships have gone missing.”

It suddenly hit Lance. If an actual light bulb had manifested itself above his head just to go off at that moment, he’d totally believe it. “HOLY CROW!”

He sprinted towards the elevator and shouted over his shoulder, “Keep questioning, I’ve got to tell Allura!” He ran to the bridge, which was empty, then searched the Castle at top speed until he arrived at the princess’s bed chambers. He swallowed back the awkwardness about approaching her in her private space. He knocked on the doors.

“Allura? It’s Lance, I’ve got important news!”

Her voice came muffled from inside. “Come in, Lance.”

He opened the door and skidded inside. “We were just interrogating Ezor and she – oh!” He froze. “Um, h-hey Pidge!”

Pidge sat cross-legged on the giant bed with Allura. She was wearing her shorts and windbreaker, and her feet were bare. Her glasses reflected the glow coming from her laptop, which was connected to some weird circular gizmo. All the mice had perched on her head and shoulders to weave tiny braids in her hair. Flames licked up Lance’s face and he quickly looked away to avoid staring. Allura cocked one eyebrow at him from her perch on the bed, and Hunk (whom at first he hadn’t noticed sprawled out on the floor with his ancient holographic science notebook) pointedly looked between Lance and Pidge, only fueling his embarrassment.

“You’re already interrogating her?” Pidge sounded oddly disappointed.

“…Yes?” he replied uncertainly.

She tapped at the gadget plugged into her computer. “Never mind. You were saying?”

“Right, uh. Ezor told us she was trying to kidnap you, Allura, not kill you. We just assumed it was an assassination. Haggar’s orders were to bring you to her at the entrance to Oriande.”

Everyone’s eyes widened. Pidge turned to Allura. “Do you think she could get in?”

The princess shrugged, brows furrowed. “Possibly. She’s technically an Altean with magical gifts. But what she could do with me I don’t know.”

“Maybe she was gonna cut off your arm and seduce you to the dark side.” The stupid joke left his mouth before Lance could stop it. He clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed, and heard an agonized groan from Hunk and a cute giggle-snort from Pidge. She bit her fist, plainly trying to hold in her laughter. Lance smiled behind his fingers

“Seduce? I hardly think so!” Allura’s scandalized yelp drew back his attention.

“You see what happens when you say stuff like that?” Hunk said. Lance shot him a glare.

Pidge took several deep breaths, to calm down. It obviously only worked like three-quarters of the way. “It’s a reference to a classic Americ – Earth movie. He means maybe Haggar wants to convert you to her cause, so you can be evil Altean alchemists together.”

Allura wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps. I suppose she only knew where to go because of the clone.” Lance nodded. “Haggar’s lust for power is dangerous. If she gains such mastery of quintessence then she could destroy the economic balance we’re trying to achieve and wreak disaster upon every living thing in the universe.”

Hunk’s eyes had gone so comically wide Lance was amazed they didn’t fall out of his skull. “Are you KIDDING ME? Zarkon is dead and now we have to deal with THIS? You guys do not sound scared enough! How do we stop her? PIDGE?”

“Hunk, lower your voice,” Allura admonished, “you’re scaring the mice.”

Pidge typed away at her computer. “I’ve been analyzing the clone’s galra arm. If we get close enough I might be able to track down Haggar, and since we have a good guess where she’s been…”

“…We could get in range and bring the fight to her. Pidge, you are brilliant!”

Pidge smirked at Allura. “I know.”

Lance’s stomach fluttered – then growled. The conversation was veering where his usefulness vanished anyway, so he made to leave the geniuses to do their thing. Hunk was already talking magical defenses with Allura. “I’m gonna go eat something and get back down to the cell.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you.” Pidge gathered her stuff and jumped clumsily off the bed. She looked and sounded a lot more manic than usual. “You wanna see something stupid?”

“If you hold up a mirror in front of my face, you’re dead to me.”

“Ugh. Opportunity missed. Come on, I just have to get something.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room. He caught sight of Hunk and Allura looking meaningfully at each other, Allura outright giggling.

Pidge led him through the corridors and to the Green Lion’s hangar. Her work station was a mess. When she let go of his wrist, his skin tingled where she’d touched him.

“How do you find anything on here?” Lance asked, poking at something that looked suspiciously like a mechanical spider.

She batted his hand away. “It helps when nobody moves my stuff.” She handed him an alien bullhorn. Then she covered the opening with some kind of circular fan-looking thing - the one she'd had hooked up to her laptop earlier. It didn’t really look like a fan, but it was the closest comparison Lance could come up with. Pidge pressed the center button, making the outer ring (which she spun a few times like a dial) light up blue. “Okay, say something to me.”

“Is this the thing I heard you were making for interrogating reasons?”

“Lance, just use it like a normal bullhorn and say something.”

He was so torn between annoyance and affection. He was trying so very hard to be annoyed at her – she hauled him around the castle, she kept him up half the night (fine, the Pidge in his head kept him up half the night – technicalities). But despite the obvious bags under her bloodshot eyes, Pidge’s face was lit up like a Christmas tree and she was bouncing in excitement.

So Lance tested out her little invention: “I thought this was gonna be something stupid.” But the words came out in the high pitched, pebbly monotone of an old robot. His eyes widened. He started making little jerky robot movements. “Holy crow Pidge, I’ll never doubt you again.”

She giggled, her face flushing a bit. Probably sleep deprivation. “The dial on the outside changes the voice filters.”

He examined the gadget. “What’s ‘PW’?”

“Patrick Warburton.” Lance looked at her blankly. “The actor? 20, 21st century? One of the most iconic voices in history!”

Lance chuckled. “Since when were you a movie nerd?”

“My mom is. They made some weird-ass cartoons back then. Just try it, Lance.”

He spun the dial to “PW” and said the first thing that came to mind. “Did you sleep at all last night? Whooooaaaa-ho-ho-hooooaa. This is the smoothest, sexiest voice in the history of everything.” He playfully struck a pose. “Hey, girl. Cassanova’s here.”

Pidge laughed so hard she doubled over, hands on her knees, and visibly gasped for breath. Her cheeks turned a striking shade of pink. Lance’s heart break-danced proudly in his chest and he couldn’t have stopped his own grin if he’d tried.

“That was ridiculous.” Pidge’s laughter died out when she tried - and failed - to bite back a yawn. “The other settings are silly but I had to include that one.”

He put down the bullhorn on her warzone of a work table. “It is amazing. Total show-stopper. Is it useful? Or was this, like, stress-relief?”

Pidge took back the gizmo and started fiddling with it. She turned back to her work table, her back facing Lance. “We can attach it to any speaker in the Castle. Any of them. I figured we could hook it up to the containment cell and questioning Ezor will be so much funnier now.”

Lance giggled just thinking about it. “We’re not done interrogating her, you know. We can still use it.”

She turned her head, smiled at him, and continued, “I just figured, you know. Anything to lighten the mood around here. Make things easier for everybody. Yesterday sucked.”

Madre de Dios. That was unexpectedly sweet. In a rough, awkward, Pidge-kind-of way. He wondered how Pidge was dealing with the whole clone Shiro thing. Like, emotionally. She did look a little crazy today.

He frowned when she let loose another huge yawn. “Seriously, how much have you slept?”

She tried to glare at him through her drooping eyes. Valiant try, but dice. He gently tugged her out of the hangar and in the direction of the dining hall. “Enough. I just need some caffeine.”

“Not the same thing as beauty sleep, Pidge.”

“Who cares if I’m beautiful?”

Definitely ignoring that question. “Fine. Big-brain sleep, then.”

“Coffee.”

He rolled his eyes and they walked in silence.

Completely out of the blue, Pidge muttered, “…reminds me of peanut butter.”

“Huh?”

“Patrick Warburton’s voice. It tastes like peanut butter.”

“You can taste sound?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s called synesthesia. My senses get a little crossed so my brain makes some weird and powerful associations. Green’s purring is like sparkling lemonade. Hunk’s voice is like cinnamon rolls.” Her eyes stared out into nothing, big and unfocused, like she only could pay attention to what she was saying.

Lance hesitated, wondering if he really wanted to know. “What does my voice taste like?” He immediately cringed. Nice going, McClain. She’s gonna think you’re so –

“Um, apples and cream cheese.” Her answer came quickly.

Lance’s thoughts skidded to a stop and he stared at her.

“What? Is it weird?”

“…That’s extremely specific, Pidge.”

She shrugged. She looked at him from the corner of her eye with a mischievous spark. “Be glad yours is positive, like Hunk’s. But Lotor's is black licorice.”

Lance barked out a surprised laugh. “Have I ever told you I love your brain?”

P A N I C.

Pull the fire alarm! Make a run for it! Stop, drop, and roll! Find the emergency exits and pray you don’t die!

Pidge stopped in her tracks and looked at him for a long moment. The sirens blaring in his head steadily quieted. Amber eyes anchored him to the spot, and he couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink, they were so entrancing. He noticed there were faint stripes of chocolatey brown around the edges of her irises. She looked at him like he was encrypted computer code and she needed to solve him.

Which was weird, honestly. Lance sure as hell isn’t encrypted. His papi always called him an open book.

Finally Pidge quirked one side of her mouth up in a soft smirk. Lance didn’t even know a smirk could be soft. “You could stand to say it more frequently.”

Flames licked up Lance’s cheeks. Yeah, he couldn’t handle any more of this. He slung an arm around her and steered her into the kitchen, keeping her propped up against his side. Lance heated up some of that weird fruit coffee Hunk made for Pidge while she hoisted herself onto the counter. When he handed her the space mug, he noticed that Pidge was a little above eye level with him with her sitting up so high. Her bare feet swung and tapped the cupboards below. She took a sip with her eyes never leaving his face. It was like staring into a spotlight.

“Stop giving me that look.”

“What look?”

“That look. The one on your face.”

Pidge just grinned and raised an eyebrow at him. Lance busied himself with finding what passed for nutritious food around here. If she wouldn’t sleep, he’d at least get some protein into her. And himself, holy quiznak he was hungry. She was still staring at him when he looked up.

Desperate not to spontaneously combust under that gaze, he blurted the first distraction that sprung to mind. “Last night I saw Matt leaving Keith’s room!”

She choked on her drink. “Leaving like they’d just finished a late-night conversation or…”

“Well. I heard some stuff through the wall last night that definitely wasn’t talking. More like moaning.”

“UGH, Lance! What the fuck!”

“Pretty sure that’s what Keith was doing to – ”

“Finish that sentence and I will destroy all your skin care stuff.” She rubbed her forehead. “Why would you say that to me? Now I’ve got that mental image of my brother and…gah.”

Was that his brightest decision? Yeah, probably not. Lance knew more than well enough how gross hearing about your sibling’s sex life can be, even just mentioning its existence. But desperate times called for desperate measures and she’d finally stopped scrutinizing him. He could breathe normally again.

He ended up shoving a bowl of food goo into Pidge’s hands (what? He could barely cook Earth food) and hopping onto the kitchen island across from her with his own bowl of Jell-O-y green weirdness. They ate in silence for a while.

Eventually Pidge spoke up, looking into her bowl and using her spoon to play with the goo. Avoiding his eyes. “Actually, I’m kinda worried about Keith.”

“Why? Is your brother a heart-breaker?”

“I’m serious, Lance.” She sent him a brief glare then looked away again. “Keith fell apart last time Shiro disappeared. What’s he gonna do now that he’s lost him twice?”

“Three times.”

“What?” she asked distractedly.

“Keith lost Shiro three times. Kerberos first.”

“Oh. Right.” Pidge stabbed her food. Lance looked carefully at her face. Her eyes, kept stubbornly wide open, were shining with unshed tears.

Lance had already cried himself dry yesterday. “Keith’s gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay. I swear Shiro’s still alive.”

She looked up at him. “Did Ezor tell you that?”

“No, she said he was probably dead. But he has to be alive! I know it, I could feel it. Remember? In the void thing? That had to be him.”

“I hope you’re right, Lance.” She set her bowl down, got down off the counter, then hopped up onto the island, sitting next to him. She smelled oddly like berries and tea.

“Pidge…” he started slowly. “Why didn’t you sleep last night?”

He could see her struggling with her answer. She was so close that he felt her body heat on his arm. I guess it makes sense a girl’s gonna be the death of me.

“I couldn’t sleep.” The words sounded rough and quiet. “So I went to the med bay to study the clone. Lance, every cell, every gene sequence, every piece of circuitry, even the scars matched perfectly with our scans of Shiro’s physiology. I kept thinking if I could find the differences then I could figure out how he was being controlled. But it looks exactly like him.”

Her head fell on his shoulder and she squeezed her eyes tight. The soft impact dislodged her glasses. Lance carefully took them off her face and set them aside (and tried to ignore his heartbeat insisting that this was a crisis). He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she curled into him.

“I kept thinking what if he was the real Shiro? What if I was wrong? What if he’d actually been corrupted somehow? I did sleep, for like five minutes. I just dreamed about shooting him, over and over and over again. So I got out of bed and built a voice-altering gadget. Hold me a little tighter, please?”

He did. “Pidge, why did you shoot him? What made you so sure?”

“It’ll sound weird.”

“You have floating fluffy caterpillars for pets and I found you on the roof scanning the solar system for aliens, and you’re worried about weird now?”

She laughed and it made his heart a little lighter. “I looked him in the eyes and it was painful. Like when someone shines a flashlight in your eyes. You should’ve seen his expression when he attacked you, Lance. It was feral.”

“You wanna know what’s messed up? When you said it wasn’t Shiro, when Lotor said it was a clone, I was relieved. I didn’t wanna think Shiro would yell at me like that.”

She mumbled into his shirt, “Never. Shiro would never say all that bullshit. I guess it all makes sense now.” Pidge gasped and so suddenly Lance swore he got whiplash she jumped out of his arms and onto the floor, leaving the right side of his body feeling cold. Her eyes went manic again.

“Lance! If that was Shiro, really Shiro talking to us in the Voltron mindscape then we can talk to him through Voltron!”

The solution was so painfully obvious he couldn’t believe they’d overlooked it until now. “He’s connected to the Black Lion, who’s connected to the other Lions – Pidge we have to try this right now! We need to get in our Lions and talk to Shiro!”

“We need find Allura and Hunk and get Keith!”

Part 10

[aweirdkindofyellow]

Here I Am, There You Are Pt. 7

Jack Barakat x OC ‘Rachel has been best friends with Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack since high school. What happens when one of them gets married?’

Part 7

Summers back in high school were always the best. It was warm, school was off for a few months, I got to spend all my time with my best friends. We did some fun things back then. The summer before college started was the best summer of my life. We went out and partied before the guys started recording their album and I started the next chapter of my life. Unfortunately, that was the last summer I spent with those friends. I had found new friends at college and contact with the old friends died down a little. But now, I was dating one of those old high school friends. I felt like I was going to have another great summer. A more adult summer, but a great one nonetheless.

It was a Saturday late afternoon when I went over to Jack’s place. I already had plans with other friends earlier in the day, which meant I was going to be late to Jack’s get-together. But I had already told him, and my other plans were planned sooner. So, when I arrived, everybody else was already there.

I was in a great mood that day. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, I was wearing shorts and a nice white top. I had just had a successful shopping trip with my friends, spending some money to treat myself to some new clothes, and it had been twenty-four hours since I had gotten some good news from work. On top of all of that, I was still with the guy I was madly in love with and wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I entered his apartment with my own key, unsure if anybody would be able to hear the doorbell ringing. As I stepped inside, I saw a few people in the living room and a few more out on the balcony enjoying the sun. Jack, himself, was coming out of the kitchen, wiping his washed hands on his jeans. He seemed happy and relieved to see me as he approached me.

“Thank god you’re here,” he breathed out and pecked me on the lips. “I need to take a shit, will you entertain everybody?”

I snorted, trying to hold back my laughter, and put my hand on his face as a loving gesture. “Anything for you.” I kissed him again, not as chaste this time.

“Thanks.” He grinned at me and was about to walk into his bedroom.

I stopped him, however, softly taking hold of his arm. “I want to talk to you later. Remind me if I forget.”

“Oh.” He frowned, stopping in his tracks.

“No, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I just want to talk to you before I tell anybody else,” I assured him and let him go.

“Okay,” he nodded and pressed another kiss to my lips before finally getting to go to his bathroom.

I decided to make my presence known to the rest of the group. After putting down my bag against the wall that lead to the bedrooms, I went further into the living room, giving everybody a wave and a ‘hey guys’. They all greeted me back, making space for me to join their group. Alex was there in the middle of a story, telling everybody about his time off somewhere to focus on writing a few songs. I listened, noticing how supportive Lisa was of everything as she added her own parts to the story. That’s exactly what I hoped Jack and I were like.

I really did believe he was the love of my life. Despite being in relationships before and despite being in love before, it was never like this. This was that special kind of love. That kind of love that made you feel fuzzy just thinking about it. Although we had taken things relatively slow and still were, I was completely ready to say that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I would say it in my head as often as I wanted.

Our relationship was great. We still went out on romantic dates, making everything just a little special for each other. If we were just hanging out at each other’s places, we never got bored or fed up either. Jack could be watching Netflix while I was reading a book, but we’d still be there together. We had our separate things, and we respected that. We didn’t need to constantly be doing the same thing just for our relationship to work. Occasionally, we didn’t even see each other for a day or two, but not for much longer than that. I’d be busy with work or he’d go out with his friends. It’s not like he had to be there through every project and I had to be there to check on him when he went out. We had our balance, we had our trust.

Eventually, Jack reappeared without anybody wondering where he had gone. He was standing behind me while I was sitting on the couch. He put his hands on my shoulders and gave them a little squeeze, making me look up. “Do you want me to get you anything? I forgot to offer you something.”

“No, I’m good.” I shook my head and smiled up at him. “I can get something myself. I probably know your kitchen better than you do.”

“Alright, if you say so.” He shrugged and dipped down to share yet another brief kiss with me before going off to be around the group on the balcony.

“Why don’t you guys just move in with each other?” Lisa commented casually, not meaning to be intrusive.

“We’ve mentioned it before, but we’re good where we’re at now,” I told her with a soft nod of my head. Like I said, we were taking it relatively slow. There was no need to rush. Yet.

“Are you guys still okay?” she asked next with slightly furrowed eyebrows as she picked up her glass of wine.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” I nodded more enthusiastically this time. “There’s just no real urgency to move in together. Someday, though.”

“Okay,” she breathed out in relief, “I just wanted to make sure.”

After that, more normal conversations happened again. I sat there joining in, until I decided I did want a drink. So, I excused myself and went to the kitchen. I grabbed one of the glasses set out for anybody to take and opened Jack’s fridge. There was a lot of alcohol, especially beer, but I settled on a glass of coke. Ever since the incident on tour, Jack had been keeping me far away from alcohol. Even when I was contemplating on one glass of wine when we went out on a double date with Alex and Lisa, he refused to let me. I was thankful for that.

I grabbed an open bottle of wine I saw standing around and made my way out to the balcony to talk to some different people. Jack’s eyes fell on me and I waved the bottle a little bit to show him I had brought a drink for him as well. He smiled brightly and held up his glass that was completely empty and I came up to him.

“God, I love you,” he declared as I poured the wine for him. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

“Oh, I can.” I handed the bottle to one of Jack’s friends and tapped Jack on the temple. “I can hear every little dirty thought in there.”

“What am I thinking now?” He wiggled his eyebrows smugly and pulled on my waist to make me sit on his lap without making my own drink spill.

“Hmm…” I took a close look at him as if I could actually read his mind. Of course, I couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to be able to. Usually, I would say he was being disgusting, but I decided to take a chance this time. I gave him a sensual look and said, “yes.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow and put the hand that wasn’t holding his wine glass on my leg.

“Yes,” I repeated with a smirk and pressed my lips against his.

“Well, I’m going to be taking you home tonight,” he whispered against my lips.

“I’m already at your place.”

“Even better.”

––––––––––

It truly is a miraculous thing. Love, that is. I thought Jack and I would never end. I was certain it was that way. He was my home. I really felt like I belonged with him. It’s why I told him what I wanted to talk to him about wasn’t bad, that it was nothing to worry about. But, in hindsight, it wasn’t the complete truth. I just had a biased view of it.

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” Jack brought up the subject I had told him to remind me about.

We were on his bed, his guests now long gone and his kitchen all cleaned up. He was sat on the edge and I was straddling him, sitting in his lap. His hands were on the back of my thighs, partially to make sure I didn’t fall down, but mainly just because he wanted to touch me. My arms were circled around his neck and we were face to face. If there was one way to have an intimate conversation, this was definitely it.

“Okay, well, yesterday–” I started with a big smile.

“Hang on,” he interrupted quickly, looking at the floor for a second before looking back at me. “I just want to clear up exactly what we think ‘nothing bad' is.’ Because we might have very different views on that.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not pregnant.”

“Okay, good,” he nodded to show he was now ready for me to tell him what actually was up, “glad we cleared that one up.”

“Now, as I was going to say, I got offered a promotion at work yesterday,” I quickly got out before he could doubt everything and start questioning me again. It was better to calm his nerves by getting it out of the way than letting him overthink it.

“Really? That’s awesome!” He grinned, showing he was happy for me. “What job is it?”

I couldn’t contain my excitement knowing that he was happy as well. I sat up a little straighter and started telling him all about it. “Editor-in-chief. And, like, for the whole magazine. No longer just the fashion part. Like, all of it. I’ll have so much more responsibility, but at the same time it will also be less work. Everybody always comes to me now when something’s wrong, like they need me to book things for them, which isn’t my job. At this job, I’ll have to make sure that everything is okay, I’ll have to check everything, but I won’t be nagged when somebody doesn’t have the right contacts. I’ll even get to write again if I want.”

“That sounds amazing. Isn’t this the job you always wanted?” His hands went up to my waist, fitting perfectly.

I nodded with even more excitement, loving that he remembered my dreams. “Yeah. It seems surreal. I get to decide what eventually comes into the magazine! Also, totally unrelated, but it would mean almost getting six figures.”

“Six figures!” Jack gasped, knowing how big of a deal that was in the magazine business. I had always earned more than enough money, but this was huge.

“Yeah!” I exclaimed. But then I remembered what came next. My mood didn’t change, I thought it was just another technicality. However, it was the reason why I wanted to talk to Jack in private in the first place. “Just one thing. It’s in Vancouver.”

His face fell as he stared at me. “Vancouver…”

I stared back at him, swallowing the knot in my throat. For some reason, this wasn’t the reaction I was hoping on getting. I knew it was a serious thing to move for a job, I really had to think about it, but I didn’t think it would change Jack’s demeanour so much. “Yes, Vancouver. I would have to move there. But I have until Monday afternoon to decide.”

His eyes fell off me and shifted permanently to the floor. When his hands moved from my body, I knew he wanted me to get off his lap. “Vancouver…” he repeated again.

I got off him and sat next to him, suddenly overcome with sadness. When he reached to his own face and rubbed his eyes, I started filling with worry as well. He didn’t seem happy anymore. But what did I expect? For him to move with me? I mean, yes, I hoped so. It was a big step and a big move, and I knew that. Even if we had been married for ten years, I would have consulted him. But he was acting like we were never going to see each other again.

“You’d have to go all the way to Vancouver? When?” He finally started asking more questions, making me hope he just needed a little time to go over it.

“They want me to move there in three weeks. They’ll help me find an apartment and everything, so I don’t need to worry about that,” I said quietly, praying that maybe taking that stress away would help anything.

But it didn’t. At all.

“Can’t you get the same job here?” He looked at me.

“I mean, the job exists, but they aren’t looking for anybody here.” I didn’t want to ask the next question, dreading the answer. But I needed to know. “Don’t you wanna come with me?”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He took a second and let his eyes close and he tried to hold back tears. I took hold of his hand and he gave me his answer. “I can’t. Everything I have is here. All my friends are here. I– I can’t– I’m not ready to move away yet. My whole life is here.”

I wanted to scream. Wasn’t I part of his life? But I was too upset to get mad. I couldn’t force him to move to a whole different country. Tears started prickling my own eyes, I was sure they were glassy and red. Then, an idea popped up in my head and I tried to dry away the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “We– we can try long distance. Right?”

I expected him to at least agree to that. Yet, he just continued to look at me with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know, Rach. I barely get to see you as it is. We’re apart longer than we’re together. If you leave, it will become even less frequent. I’ll only be able to visit you when I’m home. I won’t always be able to fly out. And you’ll be too busy to come and see me every time I’m back. It… It just won’t work.” I breathed out loudly and my tears started to blur my vision as he continued. “Can’t you just stay? You don’t have to take the job.”

“You said so yourself, it’s my dream job.” When I saw that Jack’s tears were now travelling down his cheeks, I let myself release one of my own. I would never stop my own dreams to be with a guy, I had always promised myself that, but it was so tempting.

“Rach…”

“I don’t– Is this… are we really– are we ending this?”

Once again, he opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say. He just shook his head. That’s when my tears started to fall freely as well. Neither of us wanted this to end. This didn’t end because of a fight. This didn’t end because one of us felt differently. This ended because of external circumstances. If this had never come up, we wouldn’t have been fine.

I stood up, knowing there was nothing I could do. This was it. This was the way we broke up. I never thought we would, but here we were, going through it. There was nothing that could change this. We weren’t even going to wait until I left. So, now it was time to go.

I picked up my bag, which I had moved into Jack’s bedroom, and left the apartment without another word from either me or Jack. I didn’t let myself cry until I got home and had Olive cuddled close to me.

This wasn’t going to be a new chapter in our life as I had hoped, this was going to be a new chapter in my life.

––––––––––

I didn’t see or hear anything from Jack the entire three weeks before moving away. Most of my furniture had already been shipped to my new rented apartment and I had found tenants for my own house already as well. I didn’t want to sell it just yet, so I was going to rent it out for the time being. Olive was definitely going to miss the garden, as was I, but I had to go.

My friend from work, Kat, was helping me load the last few things into my car. I was going to miss her. We used to carpool together every day. I would go to her apartment and we’d go to work together. Our jobs were very different. She was only just starting out. I had assigned myself to show her around, and I just took her under my wing from there. She was only a year younger than me, she just decided to take this career path a little later in her life. Honestly, she was the closest thing I had to a best friend. She was the first one to know about and to comfort me about my break up other than Olive.

And now I was saying goodbye to her too.

“Oh, I”m going to miss you.” She pouted as I closed the trunk of my car. “I don’t want to say goodbye!”

“I’m going to miss you too.” I made my own sad face and came up to her before hugging her tightly.

“You’re going to kill that job. I know it. They couldn’t have chosen a better person,” she encouraged as she had her hands on both my upper arms.

“And you keep striving, okay? I know it might seem hopeless now, but you’re going to get there. I heard a position opened up, so there might be a few people getting promoted.” I winked, secretly knowing that she was one of the people that was.

A silver car pulled up, and I knew this was our final goodbye for now.

“I love you,” she sighed and gave me one last hug.

I hugged her back. “I’ll miss you."

“Good luck.”

She got into her Uber and waved as she disappeared down the road. The only reason she had to leave now was because she had to go to work. She had only gotten the morning off, so we couldn’t hang out any longer. It was just a coincidence that we had finished packing my car at the exact same time. We really tried our best to get most of it done in the limited amount of time we had.

I took one last long look at my house before I approached the front door. There was just one more thing I needed. I called out Olive’s name and smiled at the pattering of her paws on the floor. She usually would be put in the trunk, but I decided it was best to let her be on the backseat this time with the other things I had to take along. This trip was going to take long, and I knew she would get impatient and annoyed, but it was the best way to take her and my car up with me to Vancouver.

I shut the door for Olive and got ready to get into the driver’s seat myself. There was no point waiting any longer now. I had somewhere to be. But before I could go, an all too familiar black car rolled up and stopped just in front of my house. I knew I couldn’t just drive away now. I had to wait for Jack to get out and stumble over to me.

He looked horrible. His shirt was wrinkled and crooked, his face was puffy and eyes red, his hair a frizzy mess. I felt the way he looked whenever I had a slight reminder that we had broken up, which was most of the time. Only, I pushed myself to take showers and get dressed properly. I was starting a new job, I couldn’t look the way I was feeling.

“Rach,” he cried when he was just a few feet away from me, “don’t go. Don’t leave. Stay.”

I shook my head and kept hold of my car door. “I can’t, you know I can’t.”

“Stay here,” he continued to beg, “I don’t want you to leave.”

It upset me even more to see him like this. I felt so bad being ready to leave right in front of him. I want to comfort him, tell him that it was going to be okay. However, when he stepped closer to me to try to convince me, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I no longer wanted to take care of him. He needed somebody who could properly help him.

“Jack, you’re drunk,” I sighed and closed my door, but not before opening the window so Olive would have air.

“Just stay!” Tears started streaming down his face and he was unable to control the sobs that wracked through him.

“Give me your keys,” I mumbled and snatched them from his hand. He was in no state to drive like this.

I took out my phone and called the only person I knew would be fit for this situation. I nearly started crying myself when I explained the situation through the phone, keeping and eye on Jack who was now sitting on the front lawn, still bawling his eyes out. As I waited for help to arrive, he calmed down, but he was still obviously drunk. He was still muttering things under his breath, sloppily rubbing his eyes, and occasionally starting the waterworks again when he looked up at me.

Eventually, a large white car joined the bunch. Alex got out of it, quickly jogging up to me, seeing Jack sitting on the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asked me, ignoring Jack for the time being.

I nodded and started telling the whole story again, giving the car keys to him. “He just appeared. And he’s drunk, and I can’t leave him like this. Alex…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered and embraced me. “I’ll make sure he gets home safe. He just needs a little help.”

I didn’t want things to end like this. Our breakup was painful, it really was, but it wasn’t horrible. It was relatively clean. Neither of us was happy, but we weren’t mad at each other. There were no hard feelings. I just needed time away from him to try to get over him, which I didn’t think could happen. But, like this, it was messy. I felt guilty.

“Rach, really, don’t worry,” Alex reassured me when he saw I wasn’t certain about anything anymore. “I’ve got him. You’ve got to take care of yourself. Go to Vancouver, make new friends, find your new favourite coffee shop. Don’t worry about him. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Once I nodded, he finally approached Jack. He said something along the lines of ‘come on, buddy’ before helping him up. Alex was saying stuff to Jack that I couldn’t hear as he started guiding him away to his car. I really thought that everything was going to be okay. But then Jack started fighting Alex off when he realised he was taking him away from me. Alex tried to keep a firm grip around him, but Jack just pushed and pushed.

“No!” He screamed like a child getting its teddy bear ripped away. “No! Rachel! No!” He managed to turn around in Alex’s grip, letting me see his tear stained face once more. “Please!”

“What?!” I finally got the courage to reply properly. “What do you want me to do?” When he went to answer, I stopped him. “And don’t you dare say stay.”

That’s when he knew it officially was over. He couldn’t get me to stay. I was leaving. He was defeated. There was nothing to do but let Alex steer him away. He was crying so hard, it broke my heart all over again. I never wanted us to end.

I got in my car and drove away before Alex could. I couldn’t stand being there any longer. It hurt too much.

––––––––––

The exchange was on my mind the entire trip up to Vancouver. All I could remember was Jack’s appearance and tears. He was hurt enough to drunk drive, which was so dangerous. He knew better than that. I was mad at him, I was upset at him, I felt bad for him, I was worried about him, but mainly I was still in love with him. And I never got the occasion to collect my feelings. I had to focus on the road.

I was carrying my boxes into my apartment when I broke down again. It was all just a little too much. I hadn’t gotten much sleep at the stops I had taken overnight and my feeling were all over the place. Olive had been the only thing keeping me together that entire time, but now she was already in the apartment. I was still out in the hallway, just having brought the last load of stuff from the elevator to my front door.

There were tears constantly escaping from my eyes, but I wasn’t crying out loud. I didn’t want to disrupt the other apartment on this floor. But I didn’t get so lucky. The elevator had gone back down again and the person that had gotten in got off on my floor. I didn’t want to be rude, but part of me was hoping they would just ignore me.

“Oh, hey, a new neighbour!” A female voice greeted behind me, going to the door of her apartment.

I looked up, deciding that I had to be friendly. She had the most beautiful curly natural hair. It was obvious she took great care of it. My hair was nothing against hers, especially while it was in a greasy ponytail. I wiped away the tears on my cheeks and tried to give her a smile.

But she couldn’t not notice it. “Oh, damn, you don’t look all too great. You okay?”

“No,” I breathed out with a chuckle, hoping to make the situation a bit better, “but I’ll be fine.”

“Would you like some help moving in?” She offered.

“That’s okay,” I politely declined. I only had a few more boxes to go.

She shook her head and opened her door, quickly putting down her bag and closed the door again. “You look like you’ve got too much on your plate, I insist on helping.”

I accepted that time. It wasn’t that I needed the help, I just wanted to start with a good relationship with my neighbour if I had the opportunity. If she was not just doing it because she was trying to be polite, but because she wanted to help, then that was more than okay with me.

I opened my front door so we could get started. Instead, Olive came running out, immediately heading for my neighbour. I was fully prepared to grab her by the collar and take her back inside just to apologise. It had become a routine ever since I had gotten her. Not everybody liked dogs and she could be a little overwhelming.

But, my neighbour just crouched down and started petting her. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty little thing? Yeah, you’re so cute. Aren’t you? What’s your name?”

“Her name’s Olive,” I answered, smiling a little at how happy Olive was to get some head scratches. But it was short lived, because it reminded me exactly of how Jack would cuddle her. I held it back, though, and introduced myself as well. “And I’m Rachel.”

“Nice to meet you, Olive. And you too, Rachel.” She looked up at me. “I’m Sascha.”

Sascha took one of the boxes and went into my apartment. I followed her with my own box. We put both of them down with all the ones I had already brought inside earlier. Instead of going back out to grab more immediately, Sascha looked around and nodded in approval. All of my furniture was already inside and in the right rooms, just not arranged as I wanted it to be.

“Your place is bigger than mine,” Sascha pointed out.

“Is it?” I asked out of interest.

“Yeah. You have, what, like seven bedrooms here?” She over exaggerated. “And a proper kitchen.”

“It’s two bedrooms and a study,” I corrected, hoping I wasn’t coming off as entitled or something.

“Girl, I have one bedroom, and that’s it, this is like a mansion. You better be paying more rent than me,” she joked.

“My work helped me get this place because they transferred me here. It was a compromise I managed to make,” I shrugged. It would have been the perfect apartment for me to move into with Jack. We would have had the comfort of being able to leave and travel along with the size of my house. But I was by myself.

I must have looked upset again, because Sascha frowned. “You don’t look happy to be here, though.”

“No, no I am,” I backtracked, wiping my eyes again and sniffing. “This is my dream job. It’s just… nevermind.”

“No, tell me,” she encouraged. “I don’t give a shit. You were crying out in the hallway. If you’re here for your dream job, this must be something serious.”

I contemplated whether to brush it off or not. Part of me wanted to spill everything, but part of me didn’t want to bother her. Then again, spilling everything to a stranger might just be exactly what I needed. So, I started small, just so I could stop in case it weirded her out. “My boyfriend of one-and-a-half years and I just recently broke up. He showed up before I left to come here and it just really messed me up.”

“Oh…” She didn’t seem weirded out yet. “That’s a dick move. He’s an asshole.”

I shook my head, feeling my eyes water again. “He’s not an asshole.”

“He is if he broke up with you. I’ve only known you for a few minutes, but you seem like a catch.”

“No… we broke up with each other.” I took a deep breath. Maybe she could reason with me better if she knew the whole story. “It happened after I got the job offer. I just moved here from LA. I don’t really know what I expected to happen, maybe part of me hoped he’d want to move with me. But he wasn’t ready to move away.”

“Long distance?” She suggested.

“Nope. He travels most of the time, he has limited time at home. It would be difficult to ever visit each other.”

Sascha grimaced and gave me a look that showed me she was about to lecture me. “And you’re saying he’s not an asshole? Not moving with you, okay, I can still be persuaded to understand that. But not even attempting to try long distance? What’s the harm in trying? That boy is an asshole.”

“No, he’s not,” I continued to defend Jack. “He was hurt as well. He showed up drunk and he was begging me to stay. It hurt to see him like that.”

“Okay, no. Shut up. You’re proving my point. He’s trying to hold you back from getting your dream job? Making you choose between him and your career? No. He definitely is an asshole. He probably does some deadbeat job and can’t stand to see you actually achieving your dreams."

“No… he already has his dream job. He’s in a semi-famous band, has been since he came out of high school. We used to be best friends back then.”

“Wait, you’re telling me that boy doesn’t even need to be in LA for his job?” She completely ignored my statement about how long I already knew him. “Fuck him! He could have easily moved!”

I shrugged. She was putting things in perspective.

“Look, you’re allowed to grieve.” She changed her tone to show me support instead of just bashing Jack. “This was a long relationship, he was your best friend in your teenage years. It’s okay to need your time to get over him. But don’t you dare feel guilty. This break up isn’t your responsibility. He didn’t want to put in that extra effort.”

On one hand, I felt a bit better. She was right, this wasn’t all my fault. We didn’t just break up because I was moving. We broke up because he didn’t want to take the chance. He gave me an unfair ultimatum, whether he did so consciously or not. And it actually made me a little mad.

It was a horrible few weeks, but it was the day I met my best friend.

[redsdesktop]

DBH: Deviant Dynamics

Chapter 20

Warnings: Swearing. Let's just assume there's swearing in every chapter at this point.

After successfully evading Conrad's attempts of intimacy in the workplace, Connor sat down at his desk, a very irritable Conrad following suit. The other android would have to wait as work came before anything relaxing in Connor's mind, which meant he would not be distracted from his current objective and not even Conrad could sway him from that. Connor tapped on the terminal screen, bringing up his contacts before selecting Kamski's number. While he would prefer not to talk to the man in general, this was work and Connor would always get the job done. Conrad remained properly seated beside him, a little closer than usual so he could see the screen as well and possibly he was a little protective over Connor when it came to Kamski. The younger android could sense the anxiety coming from Connor when others could not.

After a couple of rings, the call was answered but by a blonde android he recalled vividly. Chloe, he wasn't sure if it was the same one he'd been forced to hold at gunpoint and then spared, but just her face reminded him of why he didn't like Kamski. He could feel Conrad's steel toned eyes turning to him and Connor quickly steadied himself before he gave his stress away.

"Connor, its a pleasure seeing you again. Kamski will be with you shortly, so I hope you don't mind the wait." Polite and welcome as Connor remembered, making him wonder if she really enjoyed it there or if she was a better liar than Connor was. After all, she had to live with Kamski and his constant need for games and experiments. Whatever Chloe and her counterparts felt remained a mystery as they seemed to have no intention on leaving despite gaining awareness, after all Connor didn't get to see what went on behind the scenes.

"I don't mind at all, he is a busy man." Connor stated politely, implying that he knew that Kamski was always up to something with his sarcastic words. Once again, Hank's fault. Chloe merely smiled and nodded her head before putting the call on hold, leaving Connor with a hold screen, who knew how long it would take as Kamski only operated on his time and everyone else had to revolve around his schedule. This time he appeared to have gotten lucky as it was only a couple of minutes before the video feed popped back up to Kamski sitting in his usual lounge chair by the pool.

"Ah Connor, I'm beginning to think you have a thing for me with how much we've been talking lately." Kamski teased, shifting his gaze onto Conrad, making his taunt obviously directed to Conrad. To Conrad's credit, he remained impassive, giving nothing away as he stared idly at the screen with his LED a solid blue, his cold exterior giving him that dangerous appearance. "So what do I owe the pleasure, Connor?"

"I'm glad you could talk on such a short notice, I know you value your solitude. However, I figure you already know why I'm calling you for, the newly changed omega from last night." Connor replied smoothly, wanting to get straight to the point and not beat around the bush, however, Kamski would never get to the answer directly. Instead he shifted his gaze past Connor, seeing something behind the android, making Connor turn his head.

"I see the force has been treating my little brother well." Kamski spoke up as Connor's gaze landed on Gavin who was staring at the screen in disgust. The detective had been passing by when he heard a familiar voice. From the expression he wore it didn't seem like he was all too happy to see Kamski on the screen.

"Half brother, shithead." Gavin growled out, his entire body tense while Kamski looked like he was having too much fun with Gavin in his sights. It was the first time Connor had heard that Gavin and Kamski were related, then again a lot about Kamski's past was suspiciously missing.

"Don't be so crude, Gavin, after all its been a while since we last talked. How do you like your android co-workers?"Kamski stated casually and yet Connor felt there was something deeper in what he said, what that was eluded Connor. While Connor was innately curious, family matters were not his priority now, Neither were they Gavin's as he simply flipped Kamski off before walking away, done with his older brother. Connor turned back to look at Kamski who seemed entirely too pleased with himself.

"Pardon the interruption, but back to the topic at hand." Connor tried to put the conversation back on the rails again, Kamski didn't reply right away though, leaving Connor's words in the air as he looked contemplative, mulling over his next words.

"Yes, the omega, what an intriguing turn of events that even I hadn't quite predicted." Kamski didn't look remorseful about the loss of life, only more interested in it. That's how it just was with Kamski, Connor was used to it though he didn't really approve of it. There was nothing they could do, Kamski was too smart to let himself get caught in anything that might be deemed illegal. "I can't deny that I am a bit curious to see how this all plays out, but I've decided to let you join in on this test."

"If you have any information on the case, it would be most appreciated if you hand it over." Connor was calm those he felt a bit of impatience in having to dance around Kamski's roundabout ways of speaking. Why couldn't the man just give him a solid answer? Connor already knew why, it was always for his entertainment as if the man was watching a show play out before him.

"I've caught on to an unprecedented recent deviancy recently within Detroit. A late bloomer perhaps? A bit of a coincidence if you ask me, so it may be worth your while to go check it out." Too easy, Kamski was giving him information and yet still being vague about it, making Connor wary of what else Kamski knew. "Wouldn't hurt, after all, you have no other leads since you had to resort to calling me." Connor glanced away in guilt, but he wouldn't feel regret, Kamski was far too dangerous to interact with on a daily basis, already Connor felt like he'd talked to the man enough to take care of an entire year's worth of face time with Kamski.

Amanda had been just as conniving as Kamski, a product of that man and Connor didn't know how deep Kamski's programming went into Amanda, how much he knew about her. That web of deceit and lies was far too intricate for Connor to go over right now, he had to act before another android met the same fate. He definitely couldn't just sit around waiting for another lead, whatever game this was, Connor would play it, but he wouldn't be alone. Not anymore. "Thank you for your cooperation, Kamski, if you'll forward the address to my terminal I will get right on the case."

Kamski's grin was a little too much for Connor to bear and he quickly hung up the call as Kamski waved, he didn't say his farewells, it was rude of him but he couldn't stand looking at the man any longer. Regardless of his lack of manners, his messages chimed as he received the address as promised. He opened the mail as he suddenly felt Conrad's face press against his neck, there was no kissing but a subtle and quick rub of where their scent glands were hidden beneath layers of clothes. It was meant to be a comforting gesture between partners, distracting Connor momentarily and glancing over at Conrad. The other android had returned to his usual upright sitting position, appearing as if he just didn't do an intimate gesture in public.

Shaking his head to clear it, Connor looked back at the address and logged it into his systems, letting his access to the map of Detroit to locate where it was. In the factory district, a typical location for any hideout as most of the buildings were still temporarily abandoned due to the majority of humans leaving the city, not that the factory district had ever been a busy place to begin with. Connor held out his hand, letting Conrad's fingertips press against their own as they transferred information between each other.

"Hank, your plastic dogs are doing that freaky shit again." Gavin shouted out, interrupting the transfer of thoughts and feelings between one another, the connection wasn't strong enough to be overwhelmed by each other, just a dull connection that they could analyze each other's thoughts on what they knew about the case. Conrad shifted his glacial gray eyes onto Gavin, not budging despite Connor jerking his hand away, making the transfer end too abruptly.

"God damn it, what I say about the PDA, Connor." Hank grumbled as he returned from Captain Fowler's office.

"Sorry, Lieutenant, we were comparing notes. We just got off a call with Kamski and he gave us a lead. Its in the factory district, apparently its a recently deviated android staying there." Connor supplied, filling Hank into the situation.

"There are other androids living there as well, its a human ghost town there." Conrad added shortly after Connor spoke, they still needed time to de-sync as they were getting too well acquainted with sharing their thoughts. Hank made a grimace, definitely not getting used to the fact.

"Well, no use sitting around here dealing with dick for brains," Hank jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Gavin who reciprocated in a rude gesture before returning to his work at his desk.

Connor stood up a half a second before Conrad did, making Connor try to be more conscious in not making his movements align with Conrad's so much. "We'll follow you there, I've already logged the address in your GPS in your car, it should take us there directly." Connor didn't need to state the fact he would be riding with Conrad again, the two alphas were just barely tolerating each other's presence, it wouldn't be long until Connor would finally be able to ride with Hank again. Though the idea of putting Conrad in the back seat while Connor rode shotgun was an entertaining thought that likely would never happen.

The ride into the more desolate part of the city took longer than Connor expected, mostly because he was used to Conrad going at top speeds but now they resorted to following Hank's car. While the old alpha was no slack on the gas pedal, he was still a human and still in a bigger, heavier care that wasn't as easily maneuverable as Conrad's bike. As they pulled to a stop in front of a worn down building that was beyond repair, likely schedule to be completely demolished in the future whenever things settled. Connor looked up at the large metal building, a ruin from a time before him, before androids. Connor ran a hand through his hair, fixing it in its perfectly imperfect style.

Seeing how vehicles rarely came out here, it was no doubt that the android inside likely was already aware of their presence. A android's first instinct was to hide and in such a wasteland that would likely be easy to do. Not that it mattered, not when there were two hunters on the scene. Connor walked up to Hank as the seasoned detective got out of his car, examining the building himself. "Since the android likely already knows we're here, they'll hide until we flush him out. So Hank will wait at the front while Conrad and I try to herd them out the front." He knew that idea likely wouldn't work but when hunting androids Hank wasn't the fittest of detectives, so it was best to leave the chasing to the RK units who were built for it.

"Yeah, I got it, just don't get yourself into trouble, the both of you." He gave a glare to Conrad who seemed uncaring about the statement. It was a warning for both of them to behave, with Connor's single minded determination that often got him into trouble and Conrad's knack for brutal violence.

"I'll do my best, lieutenant. Make sure you stay on alert too, I'm sure the androids around here still aren't partial to humans quite yet." Connor frowned, hoping as long as Hank didn't go snooping then the androids that resided around here would leave him be as it was illegal to kill humans, there was a limit to freedom.

As Connor and Conrad approached the front doors, barely hanging on with their rusted hinges, the units paused. Connor glanced over to Conrad who was already staring at him, their LEDs blinking and swirling yellow as they processed the line of thought on how they should approach the situation. After a moment, Conrad frowned and reluctantly nodded before turning to veer off around the side of the building. He would enter from the back, planning to trap the android inside. Connor didn't plan for it to be easy, a newly deviated android was unpredictable and dangerous.

Slowly, Connor raised a hand, pressing against the handle-less door to ease it open, it creaked painfully loud as it swung inwards to reveal a dim warehouse. Windows covered in grim barely let any light in, abandoned stacks of empty crates and decommissioned machined collecting rust and dust were the skeletal remains of an era long past. After observing his surroundings, Connor finally took a step inside, expecting the android to be tucked away hiding. So when a fist came flying out from the left, it caught him by surprise, making him stumble deeper into the warehouse.

The other android stepped before him, the light spilling in from the open door revealing that the android standing in front of Connor was no one other than himself.

[kiruuuuu]

Making out like a Bandit Part 1/3

Jäger needs help and Bandit is there for the rescue. Both of them are roughly in their mid-20s in this. I guess it’s an origin story? Third part contains all the goodies :) (Rating T, fluff/a bit of angst? maybe?, ~3.6k words)

.

“So, we met through your brother, that’s probably easiest since it’s also true. Was it on the job? Did we stumble into each other at some point, did we go to the same party and he introduced us?” Marius’ brain is quick-firing possible scenarios, providing both reasonable as well as inane ones as he overtakes an idiot who really should be in the right lane yet refuses to switch over, blocking the middle lane completely. As soon as he’s past him, he accelerates the car and his thoughts simultaneously.

“Dude, relax, you’re driving like a madman”, says the person sprawling next to him, the seat moved all the way back so he can stretch out his long jeans-clad legs. “You’re putting way too much thought into this. Don’t you want to come off as natural?”

“Most of all, I want to come off as reasonable”, he replies quietly but lays off the gas a little nonetheless. He’s been useless for the past few days, drowning in a sea of worries and what-ifs and increasingly ridiculous scenarios, switching so rapidly from eerie calm to extreme tension over something that shouldn’t mean this much to him yet does. He barely ate, considered cancelling the entire thing several times but knew he had to go through with it. Had to.

“I can do reasonable”, the guy agrees easily and flashes him an open grin. He’s an odd one, that much is clear, there was definitely some hesitation when he was suggested to Marius even if he’s not adept at pinpointing what exactly it is that feels slightly off about the other young man. One thing helps a little with his frayed nerves at least: he cleaned up nicely. When they initially met to discuss a few details, the guy called Dominic showed up with an impressive stubble, well-worn clothes, bed hair and a sour attitude where now he’s dressed in clean trousers and a freshly-ironed, subtly-patterned shirt. He’s shaved, looks like he even styled his hair and applied an undeniably attractive cologne that put Marius on edge immediately as soon as he caught a whiff of it.

To be very honest, he’s stunning. He looks like someone whom Marius would notice in a club, on the street, in the supermarket, instantly obsess about and possibly dream of but never interact with for fear of blunt rejection purely because he’s so far out of Marius’ league. His jaw could cut glass, his hazelnut eyes are piercing and his broad chest looks perfect to rest one’s head on, his toned body and his height are just an added bonus. He moves with a mesmerising confidence that Marius both admires and deeply envies. There’s only one problem with the entire situation: He’s straight.

“Okay, so, let’s decide on maybe the first date and first impressions, how about -”

“I love this song”, Dominic interrupts him mid-sentence, doesn’t pretend to be apologetic about turning up the volume of the radio and even starts singing along a little. “What’s your uncle like? He means a lot to you, right?”

Marius has to raise his voice to fight against the music now. “He does, yeah. He raised me after both my parents died when I was still a kid.”

“Oh shit.” The volume is lowered considerably again, the effect almost humorous, quelling Marius’ rising irritation right away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. He did a fantastic job regardless. He’s one of the greatest people I know, dedicated to his work, honest and smart, I have nothing but respect for him.”

“Then it makes sense – I was wondering why you’d care what your uncle thinks of you being gay.”

Marius just answers with a strained smile.

.

It’s one of the worst ideas he’s ever heard, not only because he despises lying but also because lying to his family is something at which he’s always been terrible. His friends could pretend to be ignorant about the fate of the freshly baked cookies even with crumbs around their mouths whereas he basically confessed to wanting to eat one before he even does. Additionally, it means he’d have to get another person involved for which he’s entirely unprepared, so at first, he discards the suggestion despite the fact it worked out reasonably well for the guy telling him about it.

And reasonably well in this case means that the person pretending to be his friend’s boyfriend so he didn’t have to come out to his parents all alone actually caught the knife thrown at the poor sap in mid-air, shielded him bodily from further harm and offered to stay the night to ensure he’s fine. The two of them are still dating, which Marius supposes is wonderful for them yet he can’t get over the haunted look in his friend’s eyes as he recounts how he was basically expelled from his own family.

Still, he refuses to entertain the notion for a year during which he very carefully chooses which places to frequent just in case someone who might snitch to his own family runs into him making out with yet another mediocre-looking dude who’s indubitably more interested in Jäger’s lower head than anything he has to say. At some point, he gets sick of it and decides to make the jump, to at least let his uncle know why he wanted to own a skirt even if he never put it on in public as a child, why he insisted on watching each and every cowboy film on TV as well as most football matches (even though he hates football) and why his first attempts at dating girls went so horribly wrong.

He’s probably a coward. Dragging someone else into this extremely personal matter just so they can offer moral support is nothing but selfish, he knows this, and yet it’s reassuring to know he won’t be alone. There’s absolutely no chance his uncle is going to react like his friend’s family in any way but despite this, having someone there who will possibly share the weight of disappointment and disgust so it doesn’t weigh him down as heavily is too tempting to dismiss the prospect. He asks around in his circle of friends, some of which immediately offer to do it themselves but Marius is close enough with his uncle that most of them have met him and even introduced their wives, so they’re out of the question.

Eventually, Cedrick speaks up.

Cedrick is someone who’s usually drifting at the edge of Marius’ vision, a friend of a friend of a friend, popular and hard-working though he has a reputation for being a little strange, sometimes even callous. He’s loud due to genuine confidence in the fact that people want to hear what he has to say, Marius is loud to mask the fact that he assumes no one cares – the end result is similar, however, and so they don’t interact very often whenever they’re stationed together. When Cedrick approaches him one day and mentions having heard about his troubles, Marius steels himself in expectancy of a vaguely hurtful joke though ends up pleasantly surprised when all he receives is encouragement and sympathy. It turns out that both of them assumed they disliked each other, so after an awkward conversation to clear everything up, Cedrick mentions his twin brother who’s visiting the Ruhr area at the moment and that he’s probably spontaneous enough to go through with Marius’ plan.

Dominic really does share a lot of similarities with his brother but is actually more burly, visually more intimidating and, unfortunately, gorgeous. There’s something about his demeanour that sets him apart from Cedrick, ensures they won’t be confused – Marius would be hard pressed to identify what exactly it is but he notices an uncomfortable attraction with which he’s too familiar. Handsome straight guys are the source of equally many broken hearts as desperate jerk off sessions, they’re the bane of Marius’ existence and the one mistake he keeps making. He doesn’t learn and as much as he hates lying to others, he’s a master at lying to himself.

.

The entire car ride, which takes longer than the usual hour due to traffic, he’s careful to keep his eyes on the road instead of the impressive figure next to him but even so, he’s not impervious to their ongoing conversation. Dominic seems unwilling to dwell on Marius’ game plan, instead jumps from topic to topic, sometimes based on a car plate he spots or a news story being discussed on the radio, though more often than not entirely at random. He appreciates the distraction and finds his voluntary companion to be an interesting and interested talker though when they arrive, he wishes they’d chatted more about what kind of plot they’re going to act out as soon as they enter the house. He feels entirely unprepared.

“I don’t think I can do this”, he says, his stomach in knots upon him laying eyes on the home in which he grew up, the four walls that are heavy with memories. It used to be a safe haven, a place of freedom and comfort in which he never felt wrong. He does now, sharply and suddenly, all the possible ramifications of his impending confession flooding him at once. His uncle always told him he didn’t need other children if he’s got him and what used to sound lovely to his ears now creates a lump in his throat.

“Can I call you sweetcheeks?” The unexpected question startles a short laugh out of him that shakes him out of his downward spiral of unproductive thoughts and he smiles at Dominic, grateful for the comment. “What’s the worst that could happen, hm?”

“He disowns, insults and assaults me”, Marius shoots back matter-of-factly.

“What’s the best case scenario?”

For this, he needs to think a moment. “He accepts me as I am and even supports me.”

“And what’s most likely going to happen? Probably somewhere in the middle, right?” His uncle loves him and if previous altercations are anything to go by, he’s not a confrontational person at all. Reluctantly, he nods which turns out to be a mistake because now Dominic is beaming at him with the force of a thousand suns. “There you go. It’ll be fine. I’ll hold your hand during, if you like, and you can cry on me until my shirt’s soaked afterwards, but right now, you got shit to do. You got this. Let’s go.”

Marius finally understands why Cedrick roped his brother into this instead of volunteering himself – Dominic is proving to be an absolute sweetheart.

.

“It’s good to see you, come in, come in. Who’s this?”, his uncle pats his arm as he slips past him into the familiar house and then shakes Dominic’s hand. “Hello, I’m Helmut.”

“Dominic Brunsmeier, a pleasure. You can call me Dom, everyone does”, Marius’ companion responds politely and shuts the door behind him. They’ve come this far so Marius decides to takes the next logical step.

“Dinner is almost ready, you can sit down in the kitchen.” The fact that he doesn’t question Dom’s presence and instead accepts him into his home without protest simply because it was Marius who brought him along stings a little – he’s so unsuspecting.

“Actually, there’s something I’d like to talk about beforehand. Can we…?” His uncle seems surprised but ushers them to the living room nonetheless and this is where the reality of what’s happening finally catches up with Marius who is eternally grateful that he at least made it to the sofa before his legs give in. He can feel his heart pounding in his temples and while it does help, it doesn’t do much to have Dom by his side until he sits down right next to him, their thighs touching, his hand brushing over Marius’, thumb running over his knuckles for a brief moment. It centres him in a way, allows him a brief respite to take a deep breath and prepare himself mentally once more, just like he’s done every day during the previous week.

This is him. His uncle deserves to know about this because it’s a large part of him, his future and past, and leaving him in the dark just doesn’t seem fair. This is who he is and he can’t, won’t change anything about it – and this realisation helps. He’s content with himself. And even if his uncle might not be, it’s ultimately less important than his own opinion of himself.

He hesitantly leads up to it, speaks deliberately and has rehearsed most of it before, and while he probably only voices a couple of sentences, it feels like he’s talking for an eternity which is reassuring because his uncle hates interrupting people – so as long as he’s talking, he’s fine. He forces himself to stop, closes his mouth, resists the urge to squirm in his seat, to inspect the room to find something to comment on, switch the topic. Dom next to him is silent, a few of his fingers stroking Marius’ leg out of view in support. He hasn’t felt this vulnerable in a while, it’s as if he willingly presented a weak spot to someone with a weapon and trust is the only thing keeping him from flinching.

His uncle seems pensive. Not disappointed – not yet –, not angry or confused but Marius expects the quiet thinking to tip over into any of those soon. Instead, he looks at Dom. “Am I right in assuming you’re together?” Dom, the utter angel, simply nods and agrees. “Then you can consider yourself a very lucky man.”

His face lights up once more. “I do.”

Marius just stares. Not only did his uncle just use the informal “you”, reserved for family and friends, he also – what sort of reaction is that? “Wait -”

“How long have you wanted to let me know? Don’t tell me you worried yourself sick over this, your cousin’s gay.”

Now his eyes are almost bulging out of their sockets. “What?”

“From your dad’s side. Markus. Did you never – well, I guess you didn’t. I just hope I’ve made enough food. You really should’ve told me you’d bring a guest. You’re planning on staying, right, Dom? I’d like to get to know you better.”

“I’d be delighted”, Dom replies and sounds nothing but genuine.

And Marius just looks back and forth between the two, trying to process what just happened.

.

Dinner is entirely surreal and Marius feels like a complete and utter fool the entire time. The first half is spent on him answering his uncle’s questions about when he knew, what his experiences have been like so far and he’s forced to disclose all of it with Dom watching him with a small smirk and dear God Dom is probably judging him so hard internally because he made such a big deal out of it and it turned out to be absolutely nothing to worry about. A few times, he has to interrupt his uncle before he starts with the really embarrassing stories (though Dom subtly tries to guide the conversation back to them, as if Marius wouldn’t notice). It’s domestic and lovely and decidedly strange.

The rest of it is spent on Dom and this is where the whole thing might crumble. Marius completely missed the point where he could sensibly tell his uncle what’s up and is now stuck in this pretend relationship that threatens to blow up any second but the longer they talk, the more apparent it becomes that Dom knows exactly what he’s doing. It turns out he’s using all the topics they’ve discussed on the way here to drop natural-seeming remarks that imply how well he knows Marius, and though he disagrees with some of the “relationship” details that Marius brings up, it only serves to strengthen the front they’re putting up because they end up bickering like a real couple.

“Oh, you have a twin?”, his uncle asks curiously at some point and Dom nods.

“We both joined the BGS at the same time, yeah. Sometimes we dress the same to see whether Marius will end up holding the wrong person’s hand but so far, he’s behaved very well.” He winks at Marius, making him blush and his uncle laugh.

“You’re not that similar, actually”, he replies begrudgingly and adds, before he can help himself: “Y ou’re more handsome.”

“I’m beginning to understand why you suddenly developed such a passion for sports when you got that new teacher all the girls were fawning over”, his uncle muses but Marius can barely hear him due to Dom’s smile eclipsing pretty much everything around him. This was a terrible mistake. All of this was a mistake.

After they’ve eaten – and though it was nothing special, it tasted of home regardless – Marius shoos his uncle away, insisting that they’ll take care of the dishes since he never bothered to buy a dishwasher. As soon as he’s out of earshot, he murmurs: “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he’d take it this well and now you have to -”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this is hysterical. I’m having the time of my life, sweetcheeks”, comes the easy response and Dom actually does sound like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

“Call me that again and I’ll slap you with the wet towel.”

“Oh, is that what you’re into?” He chuckles at Marius’ exasperated expression that partly stems from the fact that Dom is playing his role a little too well. Weirdly enough, he seamlessly fits into his life, he’s witty, charming and sincere, his humour aligning perfectly with his and even his uncle’s and right now, he looks completely at ease, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and him almost elbow deep in dishwater. He’s gone from someone whom Marius would admire from afar to someone about whom he’d daydream – like waking up next to him, cuddling while watching TV. Only he has the bonus of being really, really hot. His lower arms, despite being halfway obscured with foam, look more than strong enough to hold him down and - “Really though, I’m happy for you. And I like your uncle.”

And his uncle likes him, which is a whole new problem. Because he’ll have to find an excuse as for why Dom isn’t in his life anymore the next time he visits and that means more lies on top of the ones that are currently stacking up. At least his biggest worry is gone now and he won’t have to hide such a fundamental part of himself anymore, which got rid of the worst knots in his stomach – but his uncle finding out Marius expected him to react so negatively that he made up a boyfriend remains a fear of his still.

“Hey. Cheer up.” He turns his head to answer only to find Dom’s face right in front of his and then he kisses him, nothing spectacular, just a short peck on the lips before he returns to his task but a kiss nonetheless. Habit kicks in and he involuntarily chases him, earns another blinding smile and a second kiss, yet this time neither of them withdraw and it’s an awkward angle, Dom’s arm is in the way, they both seem unsure about committing and it’s perfect, it’s quiet and unexpected and shy but Dom smells heavenly, his composed and supportive presence is doing wonders to Marius’ soul and all he wants to do is to snog him senseless, until the water is cold, until the sun goes down, until his uncle checks on them. He takes note of his smooth cheeks, the long eyelashes gently curving, the specks of gold in his honeyed irises; they tilt their heads and eyelids flutter and someone clears his throat behind them.

Marius jolts, barely stops himself from jumping away from Dom, reminding himself he’s supposed to be doing this, whirls around and feels warmth creep into his face at the amused expression on his uncle’s face. “Do you boys want to stay for the game? The BVB is going to play Schalke into the ground – hopefully.”

Okay, no, this has already gone too far and with him almost making out with Dom he’s straying uncomfortably far into dangerous territory. Besides, he can’t stand football, which is the perfect excuse for them leaving as soon as possible. He’s adamant on not ruining things with Dom so his budding friendship with Cedrick doesn’t get tarnished, not to mention the fact that he’s probably provided the twins with enough ammunition for blackmail to last them a lifetime. “Thank you, but I think we’ll -”

“Sure.” His mouth snaps shut and his head whips around to Dom who doesn’t even have the decency to return his gaze. “Another Dortmund fan, hm? I can get behind that as long as it’s against Schalke, we have a common enemy.”

A broad grin is Dom’s reward for such a betrayal. “That’s what I like to hear. Marius, if you don’t want to watch it, you can do me another favour. The model helicopter I bought a few months ago is broken again and I’ve had trouble fixing it. It’s in the garage.”

He barely resists the urge to glare at the utterly unapologetic man next to him. “No, it’s okay, I’ll join you. I’d rather make sure you don’t tell him any embarrassing things about me.”

His uncle dramatically puts on a mock hurt expression. “What, me? I’d never, cheese weasel.”

And while Dom snickers into the dishes, Marius’ face gets even hotter.

[creativitymouth]

The World Forgetting by The World Forgotten Pt.3

A/N - A big thank you to all of the amazing writers on Tumblr who helped me get my story out there to begin with. @asthmaticeddie @apartofthelosersclub @firstfannypack @mikoalabearwrites @justauthoring If you haven’t checked out their stories please do so because it’s what gave me the courage to put my work out there in the first place. 

Summary: Adolescence is kicking (Y/N) in the ass and she isn’t sure if she’s winning. SlowBurn!RichieTozierxFemale!Reader. 

Trigger Warning: Depressive Themes and Sexual Assault. Cursing because of Trashmouth Tozier.

9th grade has many sexual assault mentions, if you are uncomfortable reading this please skip ahead. 

Chapter 3

8th Grade - 1986

It had been 2 years, and Richie Tozier had just begun to realize his crush on you was possibly never going to go away. He had finally told all the guys about it on one of those days you randomly disappeared, but they all just shrugged him off. They had been sitting around in Bills place, wondering where their favorite girl had been when they stopped by her house earlier. When suddenly Richie found that he couldn’t keep his mouth closed, per usual.

“I think I like (Y/N).” He blurted out, everyone stared at him open mouthed. What had he just said? Impossible. No one said anything for a stretch of awkward seconds as they just gaped a Tozier. This was the guy with a new crush every week, so he couldn’t be serious.

“Trashmouth Tozier? With feelings for our pure little (Y/N), no fucking way man you’re joking.” Stan had said.

“Yeah R-Rich, you gu-guys are polar opposites.” Bill cut in. “It’ll g-go away eventually. L-like every other crush you-you-you’ve had.”

“Remember in 4th grade when Eddie had feelings for (Y/N) for like a month?” Stan said. “He had lied to (Y/N) and told her you almost killed him at the arcade, just so he could give her his back up aspirator.” Richie’s eyes narrowed slightly at Eddie, he had already known this information but hearing it now felt like a stab in the chest. He was the first person he told back in 6th grade about what seemed like a fatal crush.

“Hey!” Eddie yelled. “Way to fucking blow my spot man!”

“W-we’ve all t-thought that at some point.” Bill stated. “When we f-first met her in 2nd gr-gr-grade I swore I was going to m-marry her.” He shuddered at the thought of his 2nd grade self-proposing to (Y/N) on the swings. You had very kindly declined him, still boring that faint New York accent.

“Yeah, she’s like the only girl who talks to us, and she’s really pretty.” The guys nodded in agreement there was no shame in admitting you had a nice face. “I liked her in 5th grade for 3 months, even brought her Hydrangeas every day for a week.” Eddie and Bill laughed at the face Stan made, having feelings for you now only seemed disturbing. Though they had all, at some point, considered a relationship with you, you eventually crossed the line from potential love interest to sister like best friend. “I know you remember that Richie, you gave me pointers on how to get her to like me back.” Richie attempted a cocky smirk, though he felt disgust bubbling in his stomach. They had all gotten rid of there feelings for (Y/N) but Richie’s wasn’t fading. Not after 2 years and he feared not ever.

“You’re right, Richie Tozier doesn’t settle for just one bitch. He needs multiple chances to get it in.” Richie said causing the guys to groan. The truth was he just wanted to change the subject. Eddie was the only one who may have believed Richie. He had told him the same thing 2 years ago, why would he keep up this charade for 2 years? Was it possible that Tozier was in love?

So now, Richie found himself staring at you as you walked out of class to go to the bathroom. He wanted nothing more than to be able to forget these weird feelings.

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

You walked into the bathroom, having just needed fresh air. The school dance was in a couple of weeks and Kyle hadn’t asked you yet. You’d both been players in this weird love game for 2 years, and it was beginning to frustrate you. Did Kyle want a relationship with you, or did he want arms candy? Or maybe Richie was right, and Kyle just wanted to “get in your pants”. You sighed trying to calm your overactive thoughts. You had always been a jittery child but in recent years things seemed to be getting worse. The fake smiles were harder to keep up, and your time management was severely lacking.

“Are you in there by yourself Beaver-ly.” A voice rung out, causing your stomach to drop. Greta Bowie had certainly developed a colorful vocabulary in the last couple of years. “Or do you have half the guys in the school with you, huh slut?” You half expected to see Greta’s shoes beneath your own stall, so when you saw her a couple of stalls down to say you were relieved was an understatement. “I know you’re in there you little shit, I can smell you.” You winced for the person I few stalls down. “No wonder you don’t have any friends.”

“Which is it, Greta?” A voice responded with strength. You recognized it as Beverly Marsh, Williams crush since the 3rd grade. He even had some pictures he drew of her, you insisted he pursue art school, but he always denied you. “Am I a slut or a little shit? Make up your mind.”

“You’re trash.” Beverly didn’t respond. You peered out the crack in the stall door, watching as a girl in Greta’s posy struggled her way over to the garbage can.

“Shit.” You said under your breath. This was a do or die situation, so obviously you being you, you picked die. Richie always complained that you had a super-hero complex. You placed your bag on the floor dropping onto your hands and knees and praying that you would make it to Beverly before the garbage did. You made it to her stall and peered up at her, putting a finger to your mouth. She held a tray of food in her lap, and stared at you peculiarly. You waved at her to follow you. She shrugged, obviously willing to try anything, before dropping on her hands and knees in a similar fashion as to what you had done. She followed you back to the stall you’d come too. “Sit on my lap.” You mouthed. She raised her eyebrows a smile playing at her face. You slapped your hands down onto your lap playfully. She sat down with a shake of her head, and you guys listened carefully as you heard Greta struggle to lift the garbage can.

At least buy me dinner first. You heard Richie’s voice in your head and couldn't help but silently laugh. Beverly looked back at you when your shoulders started to shake with laughter. She put her finger on her mouth, taunting your previous action. You smiled widely at her. Suddenly the sound of garbage could be heard falling harshly onto the ground in the stall where Beverly had just come from.

“That Bitch!” You heard Greta scream. “Find her, kick all the stall doors open.” You and Bev shared a wild look as the sound of stall doors began to slam. Beverly seemed slightly entertained by this turn of events.

“Now we run.” You stated. Beverly jumped off your lap, taking your hand in hers before swinging the stall door open and running out.

“Get them!” Greta hissed loudly as she stomped her foot. You had always known Greta to have a temper issue and a smart-ass mouth but had never before seen her physically rough house someone. You guys didn’t stop running, the bookbag you had on slamming into the small of your back roughly.

“This is a great first impression!” You yelled to Beverly sarcastically. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m known for those.” She responded, smiling even though you were both going to run out of breath soon. Greta, though wearing those same sparkly red flats (only now in a different size), was surprisingly fast.

“(Y/N)?” You hear Eddie yell from next to Rich’s locker. You didn’t have to look to know all the boys were looking at you strangely. They had probably come inside looking for you after the final bell had rung and you didn’t meet them at the bike rack.

“Not now! Busy running!” You yelled back as you passed them “Code brown!” Meet at Bill's house. You could hear the boys sputter in confusion, you weren’t one for trouble, at least not without them around. Stan was the first one to see Greta Bowie and her crew chasing after you and Beverly Marsh. He nudged Bill, who nudged Eddie, who then nudged Richie.

“Oh, fucking shit, what now?” Richie said with agitation. “How much do you guys wanna bet she was playing fucking super hero again.” The boys all shook their heads before following you. You’d made it to your bike in record time, and with a spare glance could see that you had maybe 30 seconds before Greta caught up.

“Get on, get on, get on.” You said hurriedly to Beverly.

“I have a bike.”

‘We don’t have I have a bike time!” Beverly made a noise of displeasure before jumping on behind you. You had never been on the receiving end of pedaling with another person. The boys often had you on the back of their bikes when you were too lazy to ride your own. Well after this experience you didn’t think you’d be doing that again. It was significantly harder to pedal with two people on a one-person bike. Despite that, you didn’t stop. Beverly kept her hands tightly gripped onto your shoulders. “You’re going to fall like that, you can put them around my waist. I’m not gonna bite.”

“You’re weird.” Beverly said before wrapping her arms around you. Her tone didn’t have any maliciousness behind it, she was just stating a fact.

“Exceptionally.” You responded. It was the first time someone had called you that, but you knew it wasn’t your fault. It was those boys and their terrible influence on your innocence. Hint, it was just Trashmouth.

“I like that.” She said smiling again. You didn’t know what it was about Beverly Marsh, but you liked her. You hadn’t known much about her besides that William had a long-standing crush on her that he couldn’t seem to shake, but after the short and terrible first impression you decided she was someone you wanted to keep around. For a while. You didn’t know much about other females, except your mom and Greta Bowie, but you figured that you and Bev would get along greatly.

After about 15 minutes of pedaling in the direction to Bill's house Greta had given up her chase. You knew it wasn't over, as it never was with Bowie. You slowed to a more paced pedal, and felt more comfortable, Beverly took her hands from around your waist, no longer afraid of falling.

“You can drop me off here.” She said suddenly. You quirked an eyebrow, knowing she was trying to run away from making more conversation.

“You know,” you begin “I’m on my way to hang out with my friends, and I’d think it’d be really cool if you could join us.” You smiled widely, your signature.

“I don’t know, I gotta get home before my dad.” She said, though it was more to herself then to you. “Maybe another time.” She said as you pulled your bike to a stop at the curb. She began to get off and walk away when you called out her name.

“Why don’t we go see the Breakfast Club, they’re doing a midnight re-showing at the dollar theatre.” She laughed loudly.

“Is it because I look like Molly Ringwald?” You shrug in response, still smiling at her. “Okay, fine. I’ll meet you there at 4 tomorrow.”

“Great! Bye Bevy!” She waved bye at you shaking her head slightly. The interaction was the weirdest, yet best one she had experienced in her 13 years of life. After watching her walk away, you left for Bill's house determined to make the boys help you get Stanley to study his torah.  

-------

After the movie, you and Beverly Marsh were joined at the hip. The boys had come to accept that she was in fact, your best friend. Though she always persisted that she didn’t want to meet them yet, because she didn’t trust men it didn’t stop you from bragging about them. She argued that Richie liked you, and the thought made your heart jump, but you couldn’t place why. After all, you were Kyle Henderson's on again off again girlfriend. When she started smoking you were always there to reprimand her and try to hit the cigarette out her hand, but Bev was stronger and taller than you. Though you never gave up trying, you were also never successful. A few weeks before the dance, Beverly had finally opened to you about her father. She’d come to your house crying, falling into your arms with her hair cut short.

“It’s like he doesn’t know I’m his daughter, he sees me and sees some kind of s-sex object.” She cried as you pet her hair down. “He was always grabbing me by my hair and I - I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I cut it all off.” You nodded solemnly, finding yourself at a loss for words like when you had that talk with Mike. “I hate living there.”

“Hey,” you said gently still petting her head that was laying on your shoulder “why don’t you stay here for a while my parents won’t be back for two weeks. We can go to the dance together next week, I mean Kyle asked me to be his date finally but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you tagged along.” She looked at you now, wiping at her face.

“You sure?”

“Of course!”

“You won’t make me wear a frilly dress, right?” You laughed out loud at this, the thought had crossed your mind, but you knew Beverly would never go for it. She was a rock of stubbornness.

“Okay, no frilly dress.” You held up your pinky for her to take in her own. “I also have an idea for my hair, and I need your help.”

“What?” She asked you hesitantly. You looked down at your hair, smiling softly at the idea.

“We cut it.”

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

Richie Tozier had his head in his hands in frustration, the dance had come far quicker than he wanted it to. He’d never wanted anything more than for you to be happy, but he started wishing that happiness was with him. When you called him, exclaiming that Kyle had finally asked you to the dance he spoke as though it was the greatest thing to ever happen, but he was just hurt. He had told himself that if Kyle didn’t ask you 4 days before the dance that he would ask you himself. Of course, Kyle did end up asking you and Richie hated himself for not making a move faster.

“That’s great (Y/N), just tell the man to use a condom.” Richie had said over the phone.

“Beep Beep, Richie.”

You talked to him for hours, told him about how Bev was going too and how happy you were. You even persuaded him to go, calling him your favorite loser and saying that you needed to see him there. He eventually caved, he couldn’t ever say no to you. But now he was wishing he had. You were slow dancing with Kyle, his arms around your waist and your head on his shoulder and it was making Richie feel sick. He thought about the way his heart reacted when you’d first cut your hair, he felt like he was able to see your face more and boy did that put him into cardiac arrest. When you’d caught him staring he ruffled your hair and told you it didn’t look to bad.

“Tozier.” A soft feminine voice said from above him. He grunted in response wanting to be left alone. “Tozier.” The voice said again, kicking him slightly.

“What the fuck do you want?” He snapped looking up. Beverly sat down next to him with a smug expression on her face.

“So, you like (Y/N) huh.” She smirked devilishly.

“W-what?” Richie was blinking rapidly as his stomach sunk. This was not a conversation he wanted to be having, and especially not with your best friend.

“You took one look at her and turned into a bright red tomato.” She laughed. “Then, when you saw her with Kyle, you turned green. So, either you like her, or you’re secretly a chameleon.” Richie grunted, leaning back on his elbows.

“Why does it matter anyway?”

“Why don’t you tell her?”

“Because she doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Let me tell you something Tozier.” Beverly's expression was suddenly serious. “That girl doesn’t understand her own feelings.” Bev shook her head. “She talks about you more than the rest of the losers. Fuck, I know your favorite color and the exact number of freckles on your face.” She chuckled softly. “She’s afraid you know.”

“Of what?”

“Losing.” She stated simply “She feels inadequate, she doesn’t talk about it and she hid it really well, but if you look at her long enough you can see the cracks in the mask.” Richie didn’t respond, just watching you intently now. You seemed to be arguing with Kyle. “I think, she thinks that if she lets herself feel, she’ll fall apart.” Beverly frowned, she knew you well enough by now. Richie and Beverly suddenly quieted down, both just watching as you and Kyle seemed to bicker, but both also just lost in their own heads. Were you okay?

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

“What?” You said pulling back from Kyles shoulder. His hands stayed on your waist. “What did you fucking say?”

“I said your friend Eddie is a snack sized bitch.” Your eyes grew to the size of the moon as you ripped yourself from Kyle’s grasp.

“How fucking dare, you!” Your hands came down roughly at your sides which caused Kyle to chuckle.

“Calm down babe.” He reached out for you, but you slapped his hand away. “Oh please, like you haven’t noticed the way he ogles other men, how though he’s 13 now he still hasn’t grown?” Your heart began to beat faster, your hands clammy, as you stared at Kyle. “You’re telling me you’re oblivious to the fact that your friend is a faggot?” You gasped at his use of the crude term. “You’re just pretending not to notice.”

“Yeah, like I pretended to be oblivious to your shrimp dick.” You growled. Kyle laughed bitterly. This was not how you wanted the dance to go, it had started so sweetly. You loved the dress you were in, you loved the way your hair looked at this length, and you had swooned when Kyle gave you a corset. Though you did rip off a flower to stick into Bev’s hair. When you got to the dance, you even got Bill and Bev to dance together for a while. Richie, had for the most part stuck off to the side, but you assumed it was because this wasn’t his scene. Everything had been going perfectly. Now, well, now it was ruined.

“Yeah, bet your friend likes my shrimp dick up his -” You didn’t give Kyle a chance to finish, your knee came up and slammed into his groin. You hadn’t pulled that one since 6th grade with Henry Bowers. Kyle doubled over with a grunt, his hand clutched tightly around himself. You moved to the side snatching a cup of punch from some girl’s hand, she shouted a soft hey, but you were too angry to notice her. You poured the liquid over Kyle's head, leaning down near his ear.

“If you ever say a word, about Eddie Kaspbrak, or any of the losers for that matter. I will rip your fucking head of Henderson.” You dropped the cup on the floor, before storming away. A small crowd had gathered, and you pushed yourself through not stopping until the boys and Bev all surrounded you.

“(Y/N)!” Stan yelled.

“Did he h-hurt you?”

“If he did, I swear to god.” Richie began.

“No.” You protested shaking your head.

“Then what happened (Y/N)?” Eddie asked you.

“He insulted you, said some pretty fucked up stuff.” Eyebrows knitted together, the losers club were used to being the butt of others peoples jokes. Stan was Jewish, Bill had a stutter, Richie talked to much, and Eddie was too short. People saying mean things about them was normal, yet still you always seemed to jump into action. Even if it was the guy you have liked for 2 years. “I wasn’t just gonna let him talk about Eddie that way.” The boys all looked at you in shock as Beverly smirked at you. That’s my girl, she thought. It was then Richie had known that his crush, wasn’t just a crush. Hearing you say you caused a man not to be able to have kids, all in defense of Eddie. Well that put things in perspective for him. Richie Tozier was in love with you. “No one’s going to talk about any of you badly if I’m around for it.” You took a deep breathe scanning the boys before your eyes settled on Richie. The crowd had scattered at this point, tired by the unfulfilling drama. You grabbed Richie's hand now, missing how he flushed. “Dance with me?”

“Uh,” He stuttered, and you were again oblivious to the way Beverly nudged him in the side. “Hell yeah.” He said. You smiled and pulled him away from the rest of the guys. You guys danced for what felt like hours, hips moving, voices screaming to try to match the music. You even had a couple of awkward slow dances. “Hey,” Richie said in the middle of one of those awkward dances, “it was fucking awesome of you defend Eds like that.”

“Duh, you’re my boys. Anyone with a problem with one of you has a problem with me.” You smiled at him causing his breath to catch in his throat. As you slowly moved side to side to the music, Richie found himself lost in your eyes.

“You look really beautiful.” He said suddenly. You blinked repeatedly, your smile falling as your heart sputtered.

“Oh, uh,” you pushed a hair behind your ear blushing profusely. No one had ever called you that before. “Thank you Rich.” You looked at him. Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, he seemed to be considering something. “Rich?” You called him, he looked like he was going to lean in. Maybe connect your lips with his. Your brain reeled, what was happening?

“Guys!” Stan suddenly called, and you and Richie practically jumped apart. “Let's go, Eddie’s mom wants him home at a certain time.”

“Coming!” You yelled back, now noticing how close you and Rich were. Feeling the way, he had both of his hands on your waist, noticing the way yours were on his shoulders. How close his face had been to yours? You looked back at him, chewing on your bottom lip before moving away. He stood there for a moment with confusion. He couldn’t believe he was going to try to kiss you, in the middle of a school dance. It would have been the worst place to get rejected. You stopped walking when you noticed Richie wasn’t behind you. You turned around flashing him your wide smile. “Hurry up Tozier.”

“Y-Yeah!” He announced following behind you.

9th Grade - 1987

9th grade was the year of discoveries. It was when you had decided to make a change in your identity, figure out who you were under the colorful oversized sweaters (that could fit a truck in them) and the patterned leggings. You’d swapped them out, put all your old clothes in a bin under your bed and convinced your mother to take you with her shopping. You’d picked out brave pieces, striped crop tops and solid skirts with the occasional legging that you couldn’t turn down. You stopped attempting to maintain your unruly hair and let it do as it pleased, after all it was the 80s. The losers had changed too however; Eddie now dressed like Duckie from Pretty in Pink excluding the fanny pack that he would never take off, Stan stopped tucking in his button-down shirts while sporting vests and opened blazers, William had adorned denim jackets with patches he’d collect from local stores and never took off his off-white reeboks, and Richie Tozier well no one really expected such a drastic change from their favorite Trashmouth. Richie had begun experimenting with leather jackets and band t-shirts with his black Chuck Taylors, his curly hair now simply untamed. The only thing that remained the same was his glasses, and that’s because he spent so much money on clothes that he couldn’t afford contacts. Beverly, much like Richie adorned darker colors though she had never been a fan of bright things. Michael had changed as well, now sporting large printed sweaters and dark jeans. The Losers were still The Losers but they had a much better taste in fashion then in Middle School.

You attributed all these changes to why this had happened to you.

The navy skirt and long-sleeved crop top were a curse. My insistence to grow up and show flesh was my own demise. That’s what you whispered in your head as you teetered on your feet down the driveway to the Synagogue where you knew Stan would be. Your jellies were cracked on the side, and your hair had branches sticking out of it, your mind whirling as you stumbled over yourself.

Skirts are for girls who want it.

Crop tops are for girls who want me.

The words echoed in your head like a curse as you pushed open the doors to the Synagogue, still staring blindly ahead of you.

“Do you want me (Y/N)?” Henry asked as he walked closer to you. This had been the back and forth for the last 10 minutes, Henry following you and insisting you be with him. Commenting on your figure and appearance, making you feel gross. You scratched at your skin as if you could escape it.

“No.” You growled out attempting to shove him as he now stood in front of you, he grabbed your wrist at your feeble attempt.

“Yes.” He responded, his eyes gleaming with sin.

“I said no you fucking asshole.” You yanked back, trying to free yourself from the terrible primal look in Henry's eyes.  

“That’s not what I heard.” He nodded shortly looking behind him for less than a second before two other sets of hands were on you and pushing you down to the floor of the woods. You struggled in their grasps.

“Let go of me!” You had kicked and screamed and yelled. The boys were much stronger than you.  “I said get off of me you fucking pigs, this isn’t funny!”

“Who said this was a game.” Your eyes grew large with fear as you watched Henry unbutton his pants, you reached up and scratched one of your assailants in the face. They flinched back, and you moved to run for it.  “Don’t let her go you fucking idiot, hold her down!” Henry yelled at whoever was behind you. Hands came into your hair and yanked you down again. You screeched at the pain as the grips tightened.

“Henry,” someone behind you spoke out, you assumed it was Victor, “you said we were just gonna scare her. This is kind of far man.”

“Did I fucking ask you?” Henry shouted, Victor shook his head and moved to remove his hand from your shoulder. “Move, and I’ll fucking kill you Criss.” Victor froze before putting his hands back onto your shaking figure.

“Let go of me!” You had always hated those damsel in distress kind of girls but now you felt as though you’d pay a heavy price for someone to come and save you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as Henry made his approach. “I don’t want to die.” Victor repeated.

“Shut it Criss, I want a turn after Henry and if you keep talking neither of us will get one.” Patrick said as his hand slithered around your throat to prevent you from thrashing. He stuck his thumb in your mouth and you gagged causing him to chuckle. You continued to thrash but the realization that no one was coming settled heavy on your chest.

“This is so fucked up, I’m so sorry.” Victor said again and that was the last thing you heard as your screaming voice drowned out all the sounds around you.

Stanley had seen you before you had seen him, he was reading his Torah as his dad sat upstairs in his office. Your clothes were tattered, the new patterned shirt you worse close to falling off you, the skirt you had on was clearly backwards and the jellies, that he had early told you were adorable, were barely on your feet. He squinted to try and get a better view of you, and that’s when he noticed the bruises running up and down your skin. His eyebrows spiked up when you hit the ground without complaint. You stared down at your hands, caked with dirt and blood as you were sure the rest of you was. He quickly rushed over to you kneeling as he softly placed his hands on your shoulders. Something was terribly wrong.

“Y/N?” He asked shaking you gently, you didn’t respond your mouth opened in a silent scream. You were sure you tore something in your throat, maybe you’d become a mute.“Y/N what is it?” His heart raced spiked as he saw tears gather in your eyes as you looked up at him. “What’s going on?”

“Will I still go to Hell if it wasn’t my choice?” Stanley didn’t understand at first, his eyes still wide scanning your broken (Y/E/C) ones. “Will God forgive me Stanley?” You asked again, your voice so small and destroyed. It was then Stanley understood, his breath caught in his throat, his mouth run dry. You were asking him if you would be forgiven for having sex before marriage.

“(Y/N).” He whispered like a silent plea. He didn’t want this to happen, especially not to you. Your eyes overflowed with the tears and you took in a shaking breath. You couldn’t take it anymore and just sobbed. Letting the emotions rack your body, the filth you suddenly felt like you were. Stan pulled you into him rubbing your back as you sobbed loudly in the nearly empty church.

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

“He did what!” Richie yelled pacing as Stan retold them what you had told him. “I’ll kill him, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Not just him.” Stan whispered glancing back at you, he’d carried you all the way to Bills after contacting the losers seeing that every time you tried to walk you collapsed in on yourself. His back was incredibly sore, but he didn’t mind. You were sitting in the corner of Bill's bed with a large blanket wrapped over your figure. Eddie was sitting next to you as he rummaged through his fanny pack for something. “Hockstetter too.” Stan turned back around to face Billy and Richie. “They,” he paused swallowing looking back at you one more time before taking a deep breath. “They took turns.” Stan whispered so as not to scar you. It had been hard enough getting you to tell him, he didn’t want you to have to hear it from him. Richie inhaled deeply, as something dark churned behind his eyes. Stan had always heard Richie threaten to kill someone and never took it seriously, but now he wasn’t so sure. Eddie visibly stiffened, though he had finally found what he was looking for.

“Open.” He said gently, and you complied, there was no fight left in you. “These are just,” he paused he’d given you plan b’s his mom made him carry around, “for the pain.” He settled on since he didn’t wanna make you more upset. Eddie wrapped an arm around you and softly began to pick branches out of your hair, he normally would have been grossed out, but you seemed to be in so much pain. So, he pushed the thought of germs to the back of his head. He was going to keep searching for more pills he carried, maybe make you take everything he had in his fanny pack.

“He’s dead.” Richie finally settled on. “They’re both dead.” His voice was dark and without humor. He picked up a baseball bat and began tapping on it threateningly. “I know where he lives.”

“Ca-ca-call the c-cops.” Bill said suddenly. “W-we have t-t-to call the f-fucking c-cops.” Though he had been practicing for years, and slowly getting better, at times when Bill felt out of control he stuttered more than usual. You were his family, one of the losers. And when one of you hurt all of you hurt. He looked at you as his mind raced to catch up with his tongue, you seemed so torn apart.

“His dad is the cops.” Stan said with remorse.

“Forget the cops, we have to get her to a hospital.” Eddie was now giving you more pills, ones for pain, and some for illnesses you might contract. He didn’t think he could live with himself if you ended up catching an STD from Patrick or Henry. Lord knows where they had been.

“Hospital? Hospital, fuck out of here. We have to shove his balls so far inside him he’ll be tasting cum for weeks.” Richie was now thumping the bat on the ground roughly. He had never felt so angry in his life, his 14-year-old body brimming with emotion.

“I’m ca-calling t-the c-co-cops.” Bill said making a move to leave for the phone.

“Fine, and I’m gonna go shove this bat up Henry Bowers ass.” Richie said soon, as he began to gather his stuff.

“Stanley,” Eddie spoke, “Help me get her to the hospital.”

That was it, that was all it took, and you were sobbing again. Your hands in your hair pulling at it weakly as you head collapsed onto your knees. These boys cared for you so much, and you knew they only wanted what was best for you, but you couldn’t handle it. All the dotting, and the threats, and you especially didn’t want the cops involved. Cops meant parents and parents were a terrible idea. They would be so infuriated that you tarnished their high-standing posh reputations. Suits and balls were more valuable than their daughter’s dignity. The adults in Derry all had a way of ignoring serious problems.

“(Y/N).” Richie said as he slowly began to make his way over to you after putting the bat down.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” The boys all winced, you were apologizing to them for what happened to you. How fucked up. Richie was the first one to wrap his arms around you, thinking maybe he could meld you back together, you leaned into him sobbing some more wishing you could crawl out of your skin. Slowly all the boys followed. You sobbed even harder, and they all felt their eyes sting. They’d never seen you cry before, except for maybe once in 5th grade when you scraped your knee. They all silently vowed, that they would never let this happen to you again. Nothing bad would ever happen to you if they had a say in it.

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

From then on each of the boys protect you. When Henry Bowers would show his face, they’d create a small barrier between you and him, taking serious punches for it. Richie even got suspended a couple of times for starting with Bowers for staring at you.

“Don’t fucking look at her.” Richie spat as you both walked in the hallways. Henry ignored the Trashmouth and winked at you. You skinned seemed to turn green as you recoiled, and Richie only grew angrier. He knew that Henry was just antagonizing him, but he couldn’t stop himself from running his mouth. Especially since you had shown fear. “Did you fucking hear me you mullet wearing piece of shit.”

“What? Was your girlfriend telling you about all the pleasure I gave her?” Your grabbed onto Richie's hand as though it was life support. “The way I made her scream.” Your eyes watered at the memory of the hands over your mouth. “How much she squirmed under me.”

“Richie.” You whispered, a desperate plea to run away from Henry Bowers. Richie looked down at you and when he saw the expression on your face that was the last straw for him and he took a swing at Henry. He was only 14, and was still considerably shorter than the 17-year-old Bowers. But in his heated moment of anger Richie was able to hold his own well. After about 10 minutes of fighting and a growing crowd, a teacher finally came to separate the two boys. You saw Richie lean closer to Henry mumbling something before spitting at him. Henry was enraged and tried to make his way back to Richie, but he couldn’t, not with the tight grip around his middle.

“What did you say to him?” You asked Richie once the teacher had let him go. Richie took hold of your hand before turning to you and shrugging with a mischievous smirk on his face. He was sporting a black eye, and his hair was tousled terribly but he still managed that signature smirk.

“Nothing, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” He said. Though he thought back on it “Don’t you ever come near my girl again, or I’ll beat your ass worse than your dad already does.” What a badass thing to say.

Richie wasn’t the only one to defend you, even Eddie would step in front of you and get beaten up to the point where his asthma pump was needed. They were all severely disheartened by the change that had overcome you after the incident with Henry. You stopped smiling, didn’t talk as much and always made sure to cover your body no matter the weather. Your usual light was dimmed to the point where they were scared it would be gone forever. They each tried in their own ways to bring you out of it. Bill would draw for you, Eddie would read to you, and Stan would make you come bird watching with him more than usual. Richie almost never left your side and spent a lot of his time researching how to care for Rape Victims. Though they soon realized that this was something you had to come out of on your own. It was a personal battle and they couldn’t pressure you. Throughout all this Beverly was oblivious to whatever was going on, she had asked Richie multiple times why you seemed so different, but he only ever told her to ask you.

“It’s not my place to tell you Beverly, I’m sorry.”

Your relationship with her wasn’t negatively impacted, she was just worried. She’d stayed at your house for a month to try and put some pieces together but the only conclusion she’d come up with was that it was Henry Bowers related and that didn’t help her much. You’d found yourself at Richie’s house whenever Beverly couldn’t sleep over. You were afraid of your dreams and didn’t want to deal alone. So, Rich would tell you stories until he heard you snoring. You’d wake up and he’d have fallen asleep in a chair with his glasses on and his mouth hanging open. Though he couldn’t see it the sight always made you smile. You’d seen the books about rape victims Richie kept around and even though you never brought it up you appreciated it. He was trying to understand what you had gone through and help you build. You eventually begun to heal, though some things wouldn’t change. You burned all your short and showing clothing, now feeling that you were over exposed, and went instead to balloon pants and long sleeve shirts. The jellies, however, stayed.

“I see you're alone baby doll, your boyfriends not here to protect you?” Henry had you cornered against your locker. You tugged down on your sleeves trying to cover your fingers. “Should we have a round 2?” His hand came up to graze your cheek and you slapped it away. “Remember what happens when you fight.” He growled. “I get what I want anyway, and today I feel like sharing again.” Suddenly Henry was pushed away from you and knocked on the ground, you looked to your savior to see Bill standing over Henry. Your mind couldn’t help but ask where he was the day you needed him. Bill grabbed your hand as if to run but you ripped it away, making your way over to the stunned Henry.

“Don’t”, you pushed your foot down onto Henry's groin, “you ever,” you added pressure with each syllable, “touch me without my consent again.” You stomped on him twice. “I don’t need a savior, because I sure as hell will cut your dick off myself.”  You smashed his groin under your foot, before grabbing Bill and leading him away. Bill noted that you had a thing for hitting guys where it hurt and told himself that he would never anger you again

“That’s not the last time you’ll hear from me baby doll!” Henry yelled behind you.

As soon as you exited the building you’d begun to cry again, your face shoved into the front of Bill's shirt as he rubbed you lightly on the back. The adrenaline fading, but this time the crying ended with a small smile. Maybe you’d be okay.

Maybe not. You may have won a battle but inside you were losing a war.

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

Taglist!!!!

@fightmebub @apartofthelosersclub

[soft-sarcasm]

im jaebum: standards.

Pairing: im jaebum x reader.

Request: vickyxmelonlove: Hello there!! May i request for a GOT7 scenario with JB or Mark where they're crush is a tsundere. ^^ please and thanks!!

Anonymous: Can you please write a Got7 JB smut with n i p p l e play? Thank you:)

Genre: smut, fluff, mild nipple play, some even milder drying humping.

Word count: 3.6+k.

a/n: so I didn’t intend to combine this two requests but it just kinda of worked so, yeah. I hope this is what you wanted, I don’t know how well it turned out because both of these things are not exactly things I’m very well versed in, so yeah. Thanks for reading.

"-Again."

 "-Again."

 "-Again."

 "-Agai-"

 "-If you say again one more time I'm going to explode." Came the voice of your boyfriend, the sound amplified as it filtered through the Mic and into the dimly lit producing booth you currently occupied.

 You could understand his frustration. It was slowly going on 3am and you add been making him repeat the second half of his part in the third verse for a good ten to fifteen minutes, constantly interrupting when you deemed it necessary for a retake.

 You rolled your eyes, pressing down your finger on the com button so that your voice filled the space behind the glass that currently separated you. "You're the one who wanted to make a song together Jaebummie and you knew well in advance how I operate."

 You had been a music producer at JYP for years now, after being one of the few trainees who auditioned for the position and actually was hired. You had also worked on many of the most successful singles to come out of the entertainment company, songs like 'TT' by Twice that was a monster of a bit and GOT7's 'Never Ever.' That's where you had truly had gotten to know your boyfriend who was currently glaring at you from behind the glass. Of course, you both knew of each other from working in the same company for so long and having mutual friends, but you had only gotten to know each other during that time.

 But while you had worked on the track, you had only assisted during the actual recording so this was the first time that he was in a session that you were leading entirely. And while he knew of your perfectionist attitude as it translated into your daily life, it seemed that he hadn't fully grasped just how ready you were to keep you both there all night until you were happy with it. You had warned him that you weren't going to compromise because of your relationship and he had simply brushed it off, eager to start on the project he had been nagging you for, for weeks after he had spent one too many times listening to some of your samples and base tracks. While he himself was no stranger to producing, he had always been fascinated by your ear for music and personal flourish that made most of the projects you touched instant hits.

"Just one more time Jae, and then I promise we're finished." You attempted to coax, putting on a pretty smile and bat of your eyelashes.

He simply scoffed but never the less slipped back on the headset. You started up the track to the right time and leaned back as he prepared to sing. Listening carefully for the correct flourishes and pronunciation that you wanted. The song cut off as did his voice, and you looked up from your notes to see him staring at you expectantly.

"Up to your standards then?"

You simply raised your shoulders, a coy smile threatening to curl at the edges of your lips. "It'll have to do. You can come out now."

There was a distinct huff that came through the Mic before you turned off the com and begun to resemble yourself as you finally prepared to leave. It wasn't that you tried to be a bitch. It was just who you were and one of the reasons why you had been able to accomplish what you had in your life. It had not been easy by any means to get yourself taken seriously as a music producer in the beginning and you had had to fight tooth and nail to get you to where you are simply due to age and being a gender which still remained unfavoured when it came to music producing.

 You were a perfectionist and a borderline control freak which usually made you a pretty unlikeable person. There was also the fact that you were entirely dedicated to your just above almost everything else that had always made getting into relationships, whether platonic or romantic, rather difficult as most people rarely put up with someone who would rather stay holed up in their studio for days then replying to text messages or going outside even. You also were known to be quite harsh in your search for basic perfection and there was also your fundamentally standoffish personality. And yet, despite all these things, Im Jaebum had decided that he found you charming enough to want to date and you had found him tolerable enough to do the same. Almost 18 months later here you were.

 "I should put Yugyeom in here with you, maybe then he'll stop complaining anytime I make him repeat a verse," Jaebum stated offhandedly as he entered in the sound booth area, making his way to settle in the chair next to you as he had noticed that you had favoured rerunning through the song opposed to getting fully ready to return to your apartment. "But I can't say anything; you definitely know your shit."

 "Thanks," You mused, listening for any lasting imperfections for the umpteenth time that day. You had started working on this track a day or so ago, having finalised the instrumental and most of the lyrics to the point that all Jaebum would have to do is add the vocals and any lyrical choices of his own. Being in the industry had taught you both to move at an incredible pace with your own side projects being no exception.

 "Ready to head home?"

 You let out a non-committal hum, no longer focusing on the world around you as your mind drifted. "I just remembered there's this track Hui wanted me to smooth over that I never got around to doing."

 "Good lord," Jaebum exclaimed, exasperation saturating his tone. "You cannot start anything right now. It is almost 3 and you have been up for nearly 24 hours. If you keep it any longer your eyes will literally pop out of your skull."

 "Sounds fun," You stated offhandedly, now fully immersed in your own swirling brain. "I bet you I could have it done by 7."

 "And die in the process?" Jaebum scoffed, pulling himself from the chair in a motion to leave. "I thought I was meant to be the tsundere one.”

“Please, that trifle you call angst is just a fraction of what I possess, so watch out,” You stated pointedly, making a flare gesture to yourself, “Because if your fans ever catch a sight of this; they’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, you’re very angsty dear.” He cooed mockingly like some patronizing grandmother causing you to scowl, “Now let’s get out of here, I’m already dead on my feet as it is.”

“But, but- the song, music, creativity,” You rambled pitifully, turning to pout and display your most endearing set of puppy dog eyes. “Just five more minutes, pwease?”

Jaebum physically cringed at the overwhelming sweetness and babyish texture of your voice, “Please, go back to being angsty that was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.”

Taking this as a cue to go farther you suddenly were springing up from your chair, performing an impromptu display of the many different ageyo expressions you had watched idols do for years. “Please, I really want to finish this song. I promise I’ll love you forever,” And just to finish it off you ended with a small whine as you jutted out your bottom lip and hung on his arm, the cherry on top being the finger heart you shot over in his direction.

“I think I’m actually going to be sick,” He gaped, face covered in nothing but pure distaste and disbelief, “You’ve officially lost it, we’re going home.”

You abandoned your posture at that, falling back into your usual stance of indifference as you regained your composure, letting out a dissatisfied sound as you did, “All that work; just to be rejected. I guess it’s true, boys are only into what’s chic these days and when a girl shows her true emotions, they simply push them aside. I thought society had moved past this, but alas,” You let out a sorrowful sigh, “We have not.”

“If that was a true display of your emotions; we need to break up,” Jaebum stated plainly moving even closure to the door causing you to wonder if he had realised that the most movement you had made to leave was stand up from your chair. “Now can we please go, I want to at least get some form of sleep before you wake me up to no doubt re-do the second verse or maybe even the entire song.”

“Perfect idea,” You exclaimed, “You go home, I stay here. I’ll call you at 10 and we can go on from there, sorted. See you tomorrow!”

There was a loud groan and a muffled bang as Jaebum all but slammed his head into the door he was in the process of opening out of what you could only assume was frustration, he then turned back to you, “Fuck man, you are so insufferable sometimes. You are not a robot, you need to sleep-”

“-Sleep,” You dismissed, “Sleep is for the weak. I’m not even tired yet, so all that would happen would be that we would get home, you would pass out and I’d just lie there, all night, fixating on the work I should be doing. I’ll sleep when this is do-”

“-more like when you’re dead if you keep this up.” Dammit. You had done it now. Gone was the majority of the playfulness that up until this point that guided your conversation. You overworking yourself was a common topic of your conversation ever since a few months back where you had suddenly passed out after leaving a recording session at 3 am. Jaebum had been near furious to find out that it was mainly due to the fact that you hadn’t slept for two days and had eaten maybe half a meal during the same time period.

You wanted to say that he couldn’t say shit because there were times when he was injured or fatigued and he still performed, but he simply argued that at least he took care of himself enough that he could actually manage those performances without flaking out. Yeah, it was a touchy subject.

“Jae,” You started, softer now with the sudden change of tone, “I really think that even if I tried, I wouldn’t get any sleep right now and you know how much I hate that, just lying there when there’s something better I could be doing. I know what you’re saying is valid and you know better than anyone that I’ve been doing better, so just this once; let me stay here and then I promise I’ll sleep all of Saturday just for you.”

There was a beat of silence and then Jaebum was dropping down his bag and sighing, making his way over to you just in time for you catch an interesting flicker of something in his feline edged eyes, “Why don’t we rather do something else that I know will tire you out and then we can go home and then you can come back?”

“And what would this something else be?” You replied, now understanding the shift in his tone as you realised that you had been backed up so that you were now pressed against the desk behind you.

There was a twitch of something between coy and satisfaction at the corners of his lips as Jaebum leaned closer so that his mouth was up against your ear, giving him the access to nip the skin. “Maybe you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself.”

You wanted to laugh at the blatant seduction in his voice but any noise that could have possibly been wanting to come out quickly evaporated as Jaebum crushed his lips against yours, teeth and tongue instantly added to mix as soon as you parted your lips. Jaebum further nestled himself into the spot between your legs, hands gripping every part of your clothed frame with just enough pressure to set you all on fire. You pulled yourself closer so that your forms were pulled together so with each one of your movements you could perfectly full every ridge of him, lazily licking and biting at his mouth as your hands travelled south so that you were roughly grabbing his ass to further push him into you.

A distinct hiss left his lips as you grinded up into him, the friction a delicious mixture of pleasure and denial, “Fuck, you really are something.”

You simply hummed in answer, taking his moment of weakness to not only spread your lips over the expanse of his exposed neck but also push the bomber jacket from his shoulders so that only a thin shirt remained. “You’re the one who offered,” You reminded while you nipped at his collar bones, “So don’t flake out on me now.”

He couldn’t answer straight away as you twist your hips up, having to regain himself before he could. “I’m not flaking, just stating the facts.”

“Then I take the compliment and raise you one,” You chortled happily, wandering fingers making their way to grasp at his belt. “Or rather, you can raise one.”

An actual laugh escaped his lips, a breathy one as you made your way to cup him in your hands, but still a laugh before he was removing himself from you for a moment, “You sure know how to just sneak in those innuendos don’t you?”

“It’s a talent,” You shrugged while making quick work of kicking off your shoes and discarding your sweater, exposing your chest instantly to the chilly sound booth thanks to your lack of bra. “But while it is one of many, patience is not, so if we could get on with this whole ‘tiring me out thing’ I’d very much appreciate it.”

Your words seemed to knock the sense that Jaebum seemed to lose at the sight of your fully bare chest. In your opinion, there was not a lot to look at, but apparently, it was one of Im Jaebum’s many things, and who were you to judge? He moved like lightning, freeing himself from his shirt and latching himself back to your body by way of your neck within a few seconds of each other. You let out an overly satisfied sound as the heat that radiated from his body made contact with you, an even more pampered noise escaping when a warm hand clamped down on your right breast, nimble fingers further stimulating your nipple that had already become perked due to the contrast of temperature.

His tongue trailed down your neck, teeth sometimes joining so that a kaleidoscope of sensation greeted you with each ministration. He only stopped when he reached the left side of your chest that had seemed neglected until then, his breath stuttering for just a moment as you continued to twist your clothed core up into his. You let out a soft gasp when his mouth finally came into contact with your nipple, there being no time to recover was his other hand pinched down on your other one.

“Shit,” You cursed while tossing your head back, keeping yourself stable by pushing back on the desk space behind you to keep you stable. There was a nip at the sensitive flesh that you could only imagine was overly red due to his ministrations. “Jae.”

He perked up at the sound of his nickname, a look of pure satisfaction and mischief in his eyes as he gazed up at you, “Yes? You okay up there?”

You let out a frustrated huff, the sound finishing over as a stunted whine when he decided that now was the appropriate time to give you a small flick. “Can we skip this part already? I know it’s like, a thing, but I currently need a different thing if you get what I mean.”

You were answered with a noncommittal hum and a kiss to the side that had once been occupied by his left hand, “I don’t know, I think you may have to be more specific. I mean, how am I meant to successfully tire you out if I don’t know what you want?”

There was a shriek when he sunk his teeth down and suddenly all of your inhibitions were gone and you were thrusting up your hips, “If you don’t fuck me this fucking instant I swear to god Jaebum I will get myself off right here, right now and make you watch.”

That seemed to knock some sense into him, especially as he knew you were perfectly capable of going through with any and all threats. There had been this one time when he had attempted to distract you from your work for a good two hours because he was horny and wanted attention even though you had a deadline. Simply put, he never tried that ever again.

The memory of that torturous night was probably one of the things that set him into instant motion, making quick work of helping you lift yourself up enough to take off your leggings before doing the same to his own jeans, though it seemed he was slightly too eager to even finish the job as he regained his spacing as soon as they were far enough down his thighs so that he could push down his underwear. You understood why the mere thought of not being able to finish what he had started and made him act so quickly when you saw the sight of his cock, incredibly hard and dripping precum. You had seen his dick enough times to not be surprised by it anymore but that didn’t mean that you didn’t take the time to admire it, not that that’s what you were doing right now, right now you were more frustrated by the fact that you could still see it and it wasn’t inside of your rather than how unnaturally pretty it was.

He didn’t waste any time either, cloaking your body with his own, mouth mashing against your own as you felt the all too familiar, yet still exhilarating feeling of his head lined up to your thoroughly sopping entrance. Even though it had barely been a day since the last time you had fucked, it felt like you hadn’t felt his body this close to your own in months. That feeling was quickly extinguished when he slid into you, the stretch welcomed as you both moaned in content.

“Fuck yes,” You sighed in satisfaction, rotating your hips in appreciation of the filling sensation.

Jaebum pressed an overly mushy kiss to your lips before he begun to move, each thrust making you both more riled up and sedated, his empty hand that wasn’t busy keeping your leg up to allow better access, sneaking in between your bodies to latch onto your swollen clit.

You clenched at the added stimulation causing him to groan, “Fuck, you feel fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” You hummed, clenching down again as your eyes fought to not flutter closed. You enjoyed seeing Jaebum like this, sweat beginning to drip from his dark hair, face flushed with exertion, not to mention basically naked.

“Stop that,” He berated as you tightened yet again, “This is about you if you keep doing that there’s not going to be much of me left.”

“Sorry,” You apologised though it lost its sincerity when you pressed down again causing him to glare at you and press down harder on your clit in retaliation causing you to unleash a loud curse as you threw your head back. There was a twist in your stomach that you knew all too well, the sensation sending shocks through your body. “Fuck.”

“Seems like I won’t have to hold on for that much longer,” Jaebum chortled while slamming back into you causing you to let out an almost shriek.

He was right though, you could see your finish line, the race coming to an end with each twist of his thumb and slam of his hips. Then there was an intruder at your already full entrance and you arched from the table as Jaebum slipped in another finger alongside his dick, successfully stealing the air from your very beginning. You were completely speechless at the sudden sensation that was only amplified by the finger both in you and the one of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You repeated like a mantra before you were cumming, clamping down on Jaebum with an additional tightness thanks to the extra component which sent him spiralling.

Heavy breathing filled the sound booth, sounding as pleasant to you as many of the songs that had been produced in the very same space. You were thoroughly satisfied and there was an overwhelming sense of numbing exhaustion taking over your very being. Jaebum regained his strength before you did, moving you both to the couch after pulling out, he set you down in a lying position before he went off to find something to clean you off with.

“You tired enough to go home no-” Jaebum begun as he returned with a cloth after having to put on his clothes to go retrieve one, only to be met with you already passed out on the couch, having obviously used the last of your strength to grab for his discarded jacket to cover yourself. He let out a laugh at the endearing sight of your innocent expression as you slept peacefully, muttering himself as he made his way over to you, “Tsundere indeed.”

[elementarypolitics]

The Joke of Phoenix Comicfest...

Phoenix Comic Fest* has decided to up the ante from last year and just blatantly say “fuck you fans, we don’t care about you.” So, a quick recap of last year’s insanity. Some lunatic came in with a slew of weapons with the goal of killing the actor who played the Green Power Ranger. Because even at its most lax, Phoenix PD and convention security aren’t unspeakably incompetent, the lunatic didn’t make it very far…but while the powers that be aren’t unspeakably incompetent, they are incompetent. Their genius idea in response to this clearly out of the norm incident was to ban all weapons—real looking, fake looking, wood staffs, plastic blasters, light sabers. That’s really smart because one of them fake plastic lightsabers might be the real physics defying tool of mass destruction and some Sith might decide to just start hacking people apart. It got so bad one of the vendors selling really good collectible lightsabers (still just plexiglass and lights, so not remotely deadly) was escorted off the dealer’s floor. And the company in charge of the event had many contradictory explanations as to why (none of them remotely believable)… because you never know when the plexiglass could magically turn into a stick of deadly plasma hotter than the core of the sun apparently. But it gets better. Every person had to be searched by the woefully understaffed security of the event which meant that people wait in lines…lines that went around the building several times…on Memorial Day…in downtown Phoenix. Yes, more people were harmed from heat stroke last year in line than were harmed by lunatics with weapons in the history of Comicon (I’ll admit I didn’t search every police report, but I did do a search and couldn’t find anything). Also despite the fact that the police requiring this level of security just created a huge mass of stationary targets for any lunatic who did want to hurt people, they also overreacted and instead of realizing the truth that “well we hit the lunatic quota for the decade, probably won’t have any more problems this weekend” as, you know as sane and moderately intelligent person would do, according to several people who spoke off the record, all of SWAT was out on the rooftops ready for action all weekend. As any idiot could have told them before hand, they weren’t needed. Please do remember this is Arizona, where police give contradictory orders and then shoot to kill unarmed people who can’t follow two contradictory orders at the same time…because Arizona police are both stupid and fucking cowards. They also fire gas on people who protest tyranny.** But back to Comicon. In addition to all of this, vendors on the floor also had a lot of trouble breaking even, and I know some aren’t even going this year. So last year was a cluster fuck of epic proportions. But the company in charge thought that they could do better this year!

How you ask? Well in the past most conventions have panels. Lots of panels. They rent huge convention centers and the goal is to fill each and every conference room with as many different panels from open to close to keep the nerds happy. Movies, comics, cosplay, cartoons, games, writing, trivia, dating, blood donation, signups. You name it there was probably a panel for it. Yes, the company running the convention ran through submitted panel ideas, but they accepted anything and everything, let the fans pick the topics, and tried to simply offer as wide a variety of ideas and discussion out there to entertain as many people. It was little more than organized chaos, and it was wonderful because it let the ideas and intellect of geekdom shine in the free flow way the creative process and the love of fandoms relies on. But letting nerds be nerds was apparently not for Phoenix Comic Fest. What do the nerds know, after all? They’re only the people paying the tickets and the ones coming to see all the stuff. Please don’t just take my word for it. Here are the actual words of the Square Egg:

Yes “Themes.” Do they even tell you what those themes are? Nope. They are keeping things so tightly controlled that you need to hold a seance just to know how you goose-step in line with them.

Now I could go off on them…but, the original response to this is so much better than I could ever put it…

    My personal favorite was that one of our panels that was turned down because it didn’t meet with the themes/celebrities of the Con was a panel of the political implication of Star Trek…because Star Trek has nothing to do with a convention whose headline celebrity this year is William Shatner. In the 25th Anniversary year of DS9. At a nerd con where Star Trek is always relevant. If that doesn’t leave you going WTF, I don’t know what would. If you want to say the description of our panel wasn’t interesting, that’s fine. That’s a matter of taste. But to say Star Trek isn’t relevant…I have to assume the people who run this shit show have never actually had anything to do with any fandom ever.

  Now do they have every right to do this? Yes, yes they have every right to do it. They’re fronting the money for the convention center, they’re booking the guests, they’re the one putting all the risk on the line. So, I’m not going to be a petulant child and scream “censorship” because this is not censorship. They’re not stopping me or anyone else from speaking, they’re only saying the podium they paid for isn’t open to everyone. They have every right. But we as fans have every right to say we don’t like what they’re selling. We liked the free exchange of ideas, not a spoon-fed list of topics. We’d like diversity of thought in what to choose from in terms of what panels to go see. We’d like to see our fandoms have a panel even if you couldn’t get a celebrity from that particular show or movie to make it out to the city which is hotter than seventh circle of Hell. So, this is not censorship, censorship only applies when it’s done by the government…this is the free market, and they have the ability to profit or fail (given their incompetence I would bet against profit, but who knows).

    So, if this isn’t censorship, why is any of this important? If you believe that politics isn’t downstream from culture then this isn’t important. I am just a nerd bitching into the darkness because only one of his panels was approved. But if you believe that politics is downstream from culture, then it really matters because it means that culture is becoming more controlled than any time I can think of. Science Fiction, Fantasy, Comics and all the other genres that traditionally go along with conventions of this sort were once the bastion of free thinking ideas, of politically unpopular statements, of the voices on the fringes for good and bad. Star Trek is the first place to show a woman of color in a position of power—it may seem all too trite now where mass media slobbers all over itself to put out one formulaic piece after another with all the main minority and interest group boxes checked—but in its time it was a powerful message. Robert Heinlein and Margaret Atwood’s works warned of the dangers of religiously driven populism. The Twilight Zone and Star Trek offered hope in the future. The science fiction stories of even more traditionally serious writers like E.M. Forester, Kurt Vonnegut, and George Orwell offered us warnings about technology and what government can do with it. This has always been some of the richest ground for the seeds of social change and intellectual freedom. But now Disney through Marvel and Star Wars offers formulaic tripe in the form of explosion joke explosion joke explosion joke tied together with a paper-thin plot…and with Justice League DC jumped on that mindless bandwagon. Star Trek has become a poor imitator of Star Trek on the big screen and a teen dystopian novel on the small screen. And speaking of teen novels, the genre that once gave us Wrinkle in Time gave is now spewing mindless YA novels with characterless protagonists that aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on and would be an insult to kindling to use as fire starter (and the less said about that Wrinkle movie from a writer and director who clearly never read the book the better). The only visions of the future exist somewhere between the Thunderdome and Battle Royale. The optimism in the human spirit in The Twilight Zone and Babylon 5 has been replaced by the bleak pessimism of Orphan Black and Black Mirror. Hell, even The Doctor has become a bitter and cynical shell of its former self. And while the written has fared a little better, the fact that Martin—with his message that humans are all vile disgusting things—has seen major success, doesn’t say much either. And now the conventions are ensuring that this single line of argument continues by ensuring only the topics they want are the ones discussed.

Now I’m not saying that all these new visions of science fiction and fantasy are bad. There has always and SHOULD always be that strain in the deeper levels of these genres. The problem is that there is yin to the yang. The DCEU under Snyder and Nolan with its philosophical richness was the perfect counterpoint to the mindless entertainment of Marvel. If you didn’t like one you had the other. Now they’re both mindless. The thoughtful science fiction of Star Trek which had a vague understanding of science and powerful social commentary was the perfect balance to the fun space opera of Star Wars. Now you just have mindless fun from both. The Twilight Zone countered the Outer Limits, Babylon 5 balanced Stargate, Buffy was not Xena, Dollhouse was for people who wanted more thought than Dark Angel. There used to be balance between hope and cynicism, fun and thoughtfulness, utopian and dystopian visions, substance and style. As there should be. But now we’re just being fed the same cynical, stylistic, fun, and dystopian vision from the content makers and being told by even the fan conventions to march lockstep to their tune. The people selling this crap will respond it’s what the people will buy…but Dennis Miller had a response to this for two decades, it’s for the same reason Eskimos eat whale blubber: it’s the only thing we’re being offered. And the fact is that the Snyder vision of Superman made money, that Whedon pile of trash barely broke even. If you don’t think this both reflects society’s problems and creates those problems, you’re deluded. Phoenix Comic Fest is a symptom, but it’s a big one. Because if you don’t think this is a trend that will continue if not protested that it won’t spread out almost every convention (because if they can control controversy, you know they will because corporations will almost always fall into playing it safe after being in existence long enough). I would of course encourage dealers to boycott (you didn’t make much money last year anyway and you’ll make less this year), fans to boycott, and if you agree with argument, maybe encourage the celebrities you were hoping to see to also cancel. It’s a small thing but so is the start of an avalanche. We need to keep the diversity of thought going. We need to not give into people telling us what to think, read, and enjoy. Because if it starts with what we find entertaining…it will work into what rules we are ruled by. Politics is downstream of culture. This has been true since a Sumerian king embellished tales of his ancestor Gilgamesh to help his own position. It is no less true now. Either we control culture and ensure diversity, or we will deal with all the problem of political conformity (oh wait, we already are).

*It has been renamed from the more traditional Phoenix Comicon because San Diego Comic-con has gone batshit crazy and decided to sue conventions for things that sound like them, as if they have even the slightest shred of intellectual ownership over the word comic or the all too common shortening of convention to con…but how stupid abuse of IP law is getting is a discussion for another time.

**I would really love to support police…but honestly you guys are making the gestapo comparisons just a little too easy. Be the adults in the room, like I pay you to be—grow the fuck up and stop acting worse than the criminals you’re supposed to protect me from. And you good cops out there, your silence in the face of your vile colleagues is not loyalty, it’s to betray to your sworn duty.