#did i upload the first fic in the middle of my lecture?

[kittygowrite]

I made an AO3! (Link) I'll start linking AO3 posts with the writing if you would rather read on there! It'll take a bit of time to get the other thing I have posted on here transferred over (those tags might be the death of me) but I'll start uploading my work on there as well! 😌

[softomi]

now accepting boyfriend applications.

based on my fic idea: you’ve just become newly single, in a drunken fit, you posted a status indicating you’re accepting applications for your next boyfriend. Oddly, three boys take you up on that; sending in their most professional resumes for the position. It seems there’s some fierce competitors. 

next up: literature

It hurt, why wouldn’t it hurt. Your boyfriend of almost two years dumped you over text message with no warning and his reason? He just wasn’t feeling it anymore, what the fuck. Well, twenty phone calls, a hundred text messages sent to him, and a pretty nasty voicemail. The moment you realized just how crazy you were being was when you began pounding on his door at almost ten at night. His neighbors poking their head out to stare, and it really smacked you in the face how stupid you were being.

So you threw caution into the wind. it’s a Wednesday night, your first class tomorrow didn’t start until noon and you’re literature teacher was more of a lecturer so she probably won’t notice if you’re hung over. If anything, you could always ask the guy next to you for the notes.

Thus, you decide to throw back shots to your heart’s desire, sitting in the middle of your tiny studio apartment, on your bed to scream and cry at the romance movie. Love is dead. You groan loudly when your neighbor knocks against the wall, trying to tell you to promptly shut the fuck up.

Halfway through the movie, your mind is already swaying. Your throat stings just momentarily and you sip your cheap wine in hope it’ll dull the shots you had taken previously. When the male protagonist kisses the beautiful female of his dreams, you promptly chug the rest of the wine in your glass. Upset at their love, you wrap your lips around the tip of the wine bottle, drinking straight from it.

“I can find someone better.” You’ve reached a different point in your post break up sadness, you were mixed with anger, sadness, and an overall feeling of I’ll find someone with a better dick.

It’s never a good decision to post on social media while drunk, but it’s a great decision right now. You were going to post a ‘newly single’ status. Just to be nice and not spam everyone, you think you’ll just post it to your private account for your five friends to see. You’ve clearly neglected that step when you press post and it uploads to your public twitter account.

The urge to hurl takes priority over the sudden notifications on your phone. Your hair disheveled as you’re trying to hold onto the toilet, hold onto your hair, and throw up at the same time. The romance film comes to an end once you’ve fully emptied your stomach. You shove all the things off your bed, food falling onto the floor, empty bottle of wine rolled under your bed, remote lost somewhere. You fall asleep despite your cell phone going off.

The alarm jolts you, it causes you to scream, your palm slapping the snooze button and you aggressively pull the wire so that it comes out of the socket. Your head is throbbing and your cell phone is ringing at the same time. Annoyed, your hand stretches along the bed trying to find your cell. When you come emptyhanded, you sit up. Your hand steading the pulsing of your brain and you spot your phone ringing and vibrating on the ground.

“What?” You spit out, not bothering to look at the contact as you try to block out the sun.

“What do you mean what?” The voice snaps at you, “You post about boyfriend applications all of a sudden, did you guys break up?”

Of course he would be the one calling you, the person who loves gossip more than you do, “Tooru, can you like shut up for a second.” Your brain is dying and he’s over here trying to get the latest dish on your love life, “He dumped me okay.”

“That asshole.” He gasps, “Do you want me to come over?”

You look at the time on your cell briefly, “No. I have class all day. If you’re free later?”

“Of course!”

The phone call ends and rather than getting ready for the class you have in an hour, you’re checking your notifications. You have about twenty missed calls from Oikawa, another thirty text messages from him, he even left a voicemail; god he must have been desperate. Facebook is bland, you spent most of your time on Instagram deleting the photos of your now ex, and rarely do you ever get Twitter notifications. Oddly, you have fifteen notifications; all coming from your public account.

haha, boyfriend applications are official open. only taking serious apps lol

“No.” You sit up.

It wasn’t your post that freaked you out, it wasn’t that somehow it ended up on your public account, no you could delete it and pretend as if no one saw it but people saw it.

Is she serious?

If she is, I’m down.

What does serious applications mean?

Three comments, five likes, and four retweets.

And three unread messages.

Your finger rushes to delete the tweet before it can be retweeted even more by random classmates. All was good now. Your finger presses onto the message icon, you’re confronted with the icons of three of your classmates.

The most recent is from Miya Atsumu, a terrible flirt in your biology class. He chose the seat next to you in lab when his friends ditched him and hoarded their own table. He spun around in his chair, shooting you a cheeky grin when you briefly looked at him.

His first sentence was, “Hey you’re cute.”

And yours was, “I have a boyfriend.”.

You skip over his message upon spotting his use of sweetheart in the preview.

The next icon is of the guy in your intro to business class, Kuroo Tetsuro. The first time you saw him was outside of the classroom, you two ended up accidentally reaching the doors at the same time. He lets you go in first and the both of you chose the seats farthest from the board, and closest to the door. Despite his bed hair that made him look like he was going to sleep the entire class, he was a rather studious guy; chill but smart, he was a business major after all.

“Did you understand anything he was saying?” You murmur to him as you grab your bag.

“Of course!” He states, “I don’t look at twitter on my laptop when he’s lecturing.” Ah, he caught you.

Your eyes briefly scan the preview, he’s saying something about a resume and you think he’s talking about the homework assignment. You’re about to click on his first when the last catches your eye.

It’s from Akaashi Keiji. On the first day of class, you were late due to waiting in line for coffee. You awkwardly opened the door to the classroom, everyone turning to stare, and you lower your head, choosing a random seat that now you’re stuck with for the rest of the semester because that’s just how college works. The professor goes over the syllabus and suddenly announces that the person sitting to your right will be your revision partner for the semester.

“Hey.” You stop him and for a brief minute you feel your heart skip a beat because he was absolutely pretty, “Sorry, I’m Y/n. Since we’re going to be partners, do you want to exchange info?”.

“Uh. Sure. I’m Akaashi Keiji.”

“I’m going to be late for my business class. Do you have twitter?” You were never a fan of giving your phone number out. Before he can answer, you’re scribbling your username onto a piece of paper, placing it on his desk before running out to catch your next class.

His message is brief: Did you get my email?

You click his message first; it must have been urgent if he messaged and emailed you. There’s nothing else to his message, his previous one dates almost a week before his current one, telling you that he finished reading the book you recommended and that he enjoyed it.

The screen is pulled up with your finger, alternating apps to your personal email. The subject of his email simply reads Application.

Curiously, you click the attachment he’s sent with no body text. Your jaw dropped, hand placed over your open mouth and a small scream emitting.

“Is he fucking serious?”

His name is displayed at the top, along with his birthday, star sign, zodiac sign, age, even the pronouns he uses. There’s a short sentence under it. I am submitting an application for the position of Boyfriend. You’re internally screaming, blinking fast hoping that this was a joke but his ‘application’ reads like a resume. It lists his education from middle school to his current, his previous jobs, his skills, and his own personal goals for the future.

Your blushing profusely, you want to pull your hair, scream, even throw your phone but you shove down the feelings that want to have you die of embarrassment. You don’t have the energy to sadly explain to him that you were drunk and weren’t serious; ugh and you’re going to have to continue seeing him for the rest of the semester.

You revert back to twitter; your heart suddenly drops when you think about Kuroo’s message. Quickly, you pull up the messages, clicking his and suddenly you want dig yourself a grave because he’s sent a link to a pdf and it’s simply titled Resume. He probably used a resume template and never changed the title.

And sure enough, it’s a fucking professional resume declaring the certain skills he has to be your boyfriend. In fact, like the professional business major he is, he includes a letter of intent; indicating his reasons of interest for the position. It details the little quirks he finds cute about you. You want to break your phone in half with how red in the face you feel.

As you exit his message, you’re slowly praying that Atsumu’s message is just a random flirty comment that he occasionally likes to throw you once in a while or perhaps you’re hoping that he fell in a ditch and you won’t have to work with him for the rest of the semester since he almost blew up the lab station last time.

Nope, it’s a link to a google document. Oddly, you click it. Your heart has sunk to the pit of the earth because when you open the document, you see his fucking name in the upper right corner indicating he’s still on the stupid document.

Fuck fuck fuck. You’re running away from the document, aggressively leaving the page but it doesn’t help that when you end up back at your twitter messages, you can see the three dots, telling you he’s typing.

Morning sweetheart hope you enjoy the app

He sends it with a flirty wink and you stare at it for five full minutes. Curiosity gets the best of you and you click back onto his link, he’s no longer on the same document and you sigh safely. For someone who’s barely passing biology, his document was rather professionally detailed. Damn, he’s on the school’s volleyball team? Weirdly the page cuts off halfway, you continue to scroll until the next title page boldly states: Bedroom skills.

It didn’t help that you were scrolling a little too fast and caught sight of an image showing off his toned upper body. There goes his professionalism.

Your phone suddenly blares low battery, your screen turns black and now your anxiety is through the roof. You jump on your bed, trying to plug in your phone and you’ve just now realized that it is thirty minutes until your first class starts and it is literature. You’re scrambling to find your laptop, you trip on the bag of chips from last night, awkwardly trying to stand as you reach for your school bag.

“Shit!” You scream. You suddenly remember letting your stupid ex-boyfriend borrow your laptop.

You fall to the floor, fingers pulling your hair as you suddenly think about the deep shit your in. First, your boyfriend dumped you, now you randomly have three guys who sent you applications to be your next boyfriend and you’re still going to have to see them for the rest of the semester if you reject them. Lastly, you’re going to have to go to your ex’s place to get your laptop after having made a scene yesterday, and your phone is dead so you can’t cry to Oikawa about the deep shit you’re in.

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Not a Fashion Major

Summary: Blaine has a crush on a fashion student in his elective class.

Notes: one of said fics that came to me not at all related to my folklore series. But I did enjoy this little fluff story. 

AO3

Blaine wasn’t a fan of war. Hated it in fact. It’s why he was avoiding taking his you-absolutely-need-this-to-graduate-history-class-requirement. The thing about going to a liberal arts college is they make you take classes outside of your major. Most people were dreading their math requirement but Blaine aced statistics spring of his freshman year. The requirement he didn’t want to be reminded of was history. That was until his advisor had told him that any historical content class would be counted.

It’s his junior year and he really wants to be spending all his energy on his thesis next semester. That’s why he chose History of Menswear in the fashion department. Blaine always liked flipping fashion magazines though he may not keep up with the trends in Vogue. He enjoyed a well-patterned bow tie and appreciated a good outfit with suspenders every now and then. He was really hitting two birds with one stone. Goodbye history requirement and hello to some new wardrobe ideas.

He assumed the class wouldn’t be too difficult. Blaine asked around about the professor and apparently he put all the lectures online and his exams were almost all available on Quizlet. However, he was warned about one partner project that counted for half their grade. So, Blaine needed to make a friend who would put in as much effort as he would for this project. At least, it wasn’t a full-blown group thing. Blaine despised group work. It was never equally divided and he always ended up picking up the slack.

With an easy class to end his days three times a week, Blaine had a pep in his step as he walked into his lecture hall in a building he hadn’t really been in before. He got there a few minutes early in case he got lost and chose a seat somewhat in the middle of the room. During his time at college, he found sitting up front or way in the back brought too much attention to yourself. Right in the middle offered the best solution and he was able to see the board, which was great.

All in all, Blaine was ready for a wonderful first day full of ice breakers and going over the semester’s syllabus. What Blaine hadn’t anticipated was Kurt Hummel. A junior fashion major and clearly the best-dressed person in any room, even one containing a large ratio of fashion and design majors.

The room was silent as Kurt introduced himself. He stood up, said his name and major, and favorite article of clothing (scarves). Then, the next person went and listed off their get-to-know-mes.

All Blaine could watch was Kurt. Doodling something in his notebook with an orange-colored pen. Resting his head in his left palm.

He was beautiful. Bright eyes, highlights in his hair, and perfectly put together. A light gray vest covering a forest green silk button-up, and tight denim jeans. Blaine caught glimpses of his white Doc Martens when Kurt shifted his feet under the table.

Blaine tries to talk to him after class but Kurt has someone waiting for him just outside the room. Well, there’s always tomorrow. Except, the same girl met Kurt after every class. Sometimes joined by a tall, blue-haired boy too. They all seemed to be friends.

If he can’t get Kurt’s attention the old fashion way, it’ll have to be just the fashion way. Despite his pacifism, Blaine starts an outfit war. He isn’t even sure if Kurt’s aware he’s playing but every class Blaine steps up his game.

Whether that means tighter pants, crazy patterns (he’s fond of his dinosaur fabric pants he found at the thrift store last week), themed outfits (his loose-leaf striped top and number 2 pencil colored bow tie was a hit with his roommates), or one day of platform shoes he borrowed from his roommate Mike, who had them from a dance number a few months ago. Blaine’s all in.

Kurt claps back with broaches big enough to see across the lecture hall (Blaine is a personal fan of the hippo head), pattened shoes (the tiny polka dots were nice), and one day he donned a pair of leather pants. Blaine didn’t know that pants were made that tight. After the leather pants fiasco, Blaine’s sure he didn’t write any notes that day (thank god for uploaded powerpoints), he was sure Kurt knew about the feud.

Then came mid-terms and the dreaded partner project. When Professor Hank–he told them to call him Hank but Blaine couldn’t let go of Professor–uttered those words, Blaine’s eyes drifted to Kurt as they always tended to, except this time Kurt was looking back at him.

He pointed to himself then Blaine.

‘Partners?’ He mouthed.

Blaine nodded.

“Okay, pair up and I’ll pass out the rubric.”

Blaine stood up and walked over to Kurt. Here it goes, their first conversation.

“Hi, I’m Blaine,” he said.

“Kurt.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

They studied the rubric together and exchanged some initial ideas for a topic. Professor Hank said his final notes on the project, due dates and the like, before dismissing them for the day.

“We’ve never had a class together before,” Kurt commented, packing up his bag.

“Not a fashion major,” Blaine admitted, “Just taking the elective.”

“Oh,” Kurt replied, sounding surprised. He steeled his face before saying, “you wouldn’t know it by the way you dress.”

Blaine blushed and laughed nervously. “Just the gay gene.”

“Wanna get some coffee?”

“I’d love that,” Blaine said.

It’s not until their third date when Kurt asked Blaine if there was a winner of the outfit war.

[dirty-urie]

Date Night

Third Person

Brendon x Sara (OC kinda)

College AU

PWP Oneshot

NC-17

5.4k Words

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story using the names and/or likeness of at least one real person. This is intended for entertainment purposes ONLY. Please do not share or bring up my work with anyone other than fellow fans. Any similarity to real-life events involving these characters that have not been shared with the general public is only coincidence. Just because I’ve included something in my fics does NOT mean I condone, support, or encourage that behavior, language, or action in real life. Please practice safe and consensual sex practices, and just be a good person.

Warnings in Order of Appearance: Real Person Fic, Crude and Vulgar Language Throughout, Mentions of Alcohol, Brief Joke About Forgoing Contraception, Talk and Consumption of Pornography, Unprotected Oral Sex, Female Receiving Oral, Intercourse, Male Receiving Oral, Female Masturbation, Use of a Non-Sex Toy as a Sex Toy, Minor Social Anxiety

Author's Notes:

1. I spelled Sarah's name wrong on purpose because I felt bad writing porn about her. Brendon's technically permitted to write about him, so I'll do that without guilt (okay, with some guilt, but I feel guilty about everything. I have anxiety), but I respect Sarah too much to do that to her. That being said, I didn't want to use a random name, so I decided on a middle ground. Here's Sara, who is both not a real person and also not not married to Brendon Urie in real life. Schrodinger's OC. Okay, thank you for putting up with me.

2. I don’t know if I’m going to write any more third-person fics. I know they’re not really that popular, but for some reason, this spoke to me in third, so I embraced that. Anyway, give it a chance, and if you don’t like it, give whatever I publish next a chance.

3. This used to be split into two parts because I uploaded it on mobile, but I have since condensed the two parts, and now the whole thing is on this post.

Brendon fumbles with his keys as he unlocks the door to his apartment. Sara won't be there for another little while, but he's anxious to get inside anyway. His roommate is away visiting his family for the first time in nearly two months, and he hasn’t gotten any real alone time with his girlfriend since then. It’s hard, and Brendon knows Sara’s been struggling too because she spent their whole coffee shop study-date the day before whispering to him about how she's been practically crawling out of her skin. Brendon shivers at the memory of her hot breath against his ear as he slams his front door shut and hurries to his bedroom.

He's thinking about all the nasty ways he wants to get back at her for getting him so worked up in public when, speak of the devil, his phone buzzes, and Sara's name pops up in the caller ID. Actually, "Brunette from Creative Writing" pops up, but he swears he'll change it one day. Sara jokes that they'll be married with a whole flock of adult children, and she'll be calling him from the bingo hall as "Brunette from Creative Writing." God, he fucking loves her.

"Hey, babe, I just got home," he says after he hits the answer button.

"Okay, I just got out of my lecture, but I'm stopping by my dorm to grab my duffel bag, then I'm going to the drugstore to get condoms that aren't the shitty university clinic ones, so I won't be there for almost another hour," she tells him.

"Noooo, just come straight here. You can just wear my clothes all weekend. And condoms are so unnecessary; I'll just pull out," Brendon whines.

Sara laughs into the phone, knowing he doesn't mean any of that. "Oh sure, in that case, I'll come right over. Did you want to pay me $400,000 to raise a child in cash or check?"

"Uh, check, but you're gonna have to wait a bit to cash it," he replies.

He can practically see her rolling her eyes, even through the phone, "I'll be there in an hour, but I'll bring you something fun from the drugstore," she says.

"Fun like sex fun or fun like gum from the checkout stand fun?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, love you, bye!" she tells him through the phone before hanging up.

"Love you too, babe," he says sarcastically to no one. He walks into his bedroom and makes sure it's spotless. He doesn't want anything whatsoever to get in the way of fun, sexy times once Sara gets here.

His apartment is clean; he has wine and groceries in the fridge, enough money saved up to rent a movie and order dinner later, and no homework, so once Sara shows up with the condoms, he’ll be good to spend the entire weekend at home with her. With nothing else to do, he climbs onto his bed and grabs his laptop. No harm in a little pre-gaming, he figures, pulling up his favorite porn website while he waits.

He clicks on the first video without too much thought. It’s a girl, one Brendon recognizes, wearing a tiny thong and nothing else, and playing with a small bullet vibe while her boyfriend watches. She’s wet, probably just with lube and not actual bodily fluid, he realizes, but at least they bothered to make her look physically aroused at all.

He gets invested in the video, in the new toys that the boyfriend hands her, in the way both of their arousal grows as time goes on. He gets so engrossed that he’s beyond startled when Sara interrupts with, “Starting without me?” eyeing the erection already straining through his jeans.

Brendon laughs with glee now that she’s finally here, “No, no, no, just passing the time while I wait for you. No touching yet, see," he says, holding up his hands and waving them around before pausing his video.

"Well, don't stop on my account," Sara scoffs. "I don't mind you starting without me as long as I'm there when you finish," she murmurs.

They both moan, Brendon in response to her words, Sara in response seeing Brendon's cock twitch in his pants, “Ah fuck, babe, that’ll be sooner than I’d like if you keep talking like that.”

Sara climbs in next to him and snuggles against him so that she can see his computer screen, “Ooo, she’s hot,” she says, pointing to the girl now getting eaten out by the guy who, coincidentally enough, doesn’t look dissimilar to B.

“Yeah, I like a lot of her work,” Brendon says back, disinterested in the video playing on the laptop now that Sara’s actually there in the flesh “hey, you should take your pants off,” he suggests, totally smooth and subtly.

“You’re such a guy, B. No ‘how was your day? Are you hungry? Can I get you something to drink?” she teases.

Under normal circumstances, Brendon would object to such slander on his impeccable moral character. But, well, there’s not a lot of blood in his brain right now, and he knows that she would just respond with more teasing, further delaying the Fun Sexy Times, so he rolls to his side and kisses behind her ear, pressing his cock against her leg in an attempt to tease her into pliability. It works; she melts, whimpering a little bit as heat pools deep in her stomach when she feels just how turned on Brendon is. “You feel so nice, B. Bet you’d feel nicer without this layer of denim between us. Can you help me?”

Brendon unbuttons her pants and moves down to slide them off her body, moving his mouth along the newly revealed skin as he works them off. He’s paying so much attention to the warm flush of her thighs that he almost misses her panties: dark red lace, even darker where she’s soaked through them, and so delicate that they’re nearly see-through.

“Oh fuck, babe, that’s gorgeous. Are you wearing a matching bra?” he asks.

She answers by sitting up and pulling off her t-shirt, revealing the same thin lace. Her nipples are hard, practically poking through the delicate material.

Brendon settles back on his heels to fully take his girlfriend in, now stripped down to just her matching bra and panties set.

Sarah grins down at him, “Why do I get the sense that I can expect this set in every color for my birthday? Although, I know for a fact that I can get the same reaction from you wearing full-coverage high-waisted granny panties,” she thinks aloud after seeing Brendon’s wide-eyed awe.

Brendon isn’t paying attention, though. His mindset shifted from the fun and playful sex they usually have to lust-fueled passion as soon as Sara took her shirt off. Don’t get him wrong, they have great sex, but they normally have to do it fast and quietly and spontaneously, so they’ve gotten good at not taking themselves too seriously, at laughing at Brendon’s old superhero boxers, and then getting to business. Now that he has the chance to really take his time to appreciate, no, worship her as she deserves, he wants to do it right.

He moves off his heels and crawls over her body, supporting himself with one muscled arm as he moves in to kiss her. She picks up on the change in mood immediately, grasping the back of his head to deepen the kiss. He’s throbbing against her thigh now, even through his jeans, and she’s worried that she might come just from feeling him.

She, too, loves their normal sex, but even though it’s fun, it can’t always be as intimate as either of them would like. And it’s a shame too because as good at Brendon is at fucking, banging, screwing, whatever, he’s damn good at making love. At making sure she’s safe and supported and in absolute bliss, even when they’re hooking up in someone’s bedroom at a party, but especially like this when they’ve got hours and total privacy.

When her moans increase in pitch and frequency, Brendon crawls back down on the bed and settles between her thighs. “Darling, these panties are a gift to humanity, but I’m afraid they’re going to get in the way of some things I have planned. You don’t mind if I take them off, do you?” he says, voice deep and gravelly. He mouths against the soaked fabric while he waits for her response.

After taking a moment to collect herself and catch her breath, “God, Brendon, please, I need your mouth, fingers, cock, something,” she whines.

Now that he has her permission, he moves his mouth from her core to the waistband against her hip and bites it, just letting his teeth scrape her skin as he pulls down. Whether intentionally or not, Sara arches her back up, making it easy to slide them all the way down her legs. He kisses her way back up her legs, but instead of stopping between her thighs, he keeps going up. He licks up across the flat planes of her stomach all the way until he reaches her bra. Just like with her panties, he mouths over the fabric first, inching up slowly before sucking on one of her nipples through the lace.

As much as he loves how her breathing gets faster and heavier just from that, he can’t resist the actual mouth-on-skin that the low cut of the bra allows. He sucks a pink mark on each breast and then moves to lick and suckle gently on her neck. They’ve both agreed that they’re not middle schoolers and visible hickeys are beyond tacky, but they both go so wild from neck stimulation that it can be hard to resist spending a few minutes sucking a licking at the rapidly-beating pulse points.

As much as Brendon wants to keep teasing, Sara’s squirming like crazy, and he’s worried that if he kept going in the same way, she’d come before he got to touch her for real. He finally settles between her thighs for real this time, kissing and sucking gently on her vulva for just a second or two. Sara is quivering by the time he moves down to suck on her clit. As soon as he finally makes contact with the sensitive hood, she screams out in ecstasy, taking full advantage of Brendon’s roommate’s absence. He sucks around her clit just like her nipple, a few short staccato bursts followed by long, drawn-out pulls. He moves his tongue gently the whole time to stimulate her further.

Both of her hands are tangled in his hair, tugging hard when he moves from sucking on her clit to licking across her entrance. He licks across the opening in broad strokes before his tongue enters her, rubbing her clit with his thumb the whole time. He waits until her thighs are clenched tight around his head, and she’s bucking up against his mouth before he slips two fingers inside to rub over her g-spot.

“B, stop, I’m gonna fucking come!” She shrieks.

He lifts his head without slowing his fingers, “You don’t wanna come?”

“Want you to be inside me when I do. Inside me for real, not just fingers,” Sara pants, trying hard to distract herself from her building arousal.

As much as Brendon’s disappointed that Sara won’t come on his face, after all, he’s been hard for over an hour now, and he would love to get out of his restrictive jeans and get a little more stimulation than rubbing himself against the bed.

He crawls out of bed and peels his shirt off. Now it’s Sarah’s turn to marvel at her lover. His cheeks and chest are flushed a deep pink from the exertion and arousal, his face is shiny with spit and her juices, and his cock is tenting the material of his pants.

Sara strokes over herself lazily, it’s not nearly as good as Brendon, but it’s something to take the edge off while she watches Brendon unbuckle his belt to strip his pants off. He’s moving slowly on purpose. He always did love to put on a show.

Once he’s down to his black boxer-briefs, he asks Sara where she put the condoms when she came in.

“B, I love that you’re so distracted by me, but the bag is right next to you on the nightstand,” she answers.

“Hey, I’m not wearing my glasses. That’s not fair,” Brendon replies softly. He turns and opens the plastic bag with the drugstore logo on the front. Sara laughs when his eyes visibly widen. “Should I be scared?” He asks, holding up a large vibrating dildo.

Sara laughs. “No, love, I just wanted to get some toys I could leave at your place,” she answers as he pulls out a bullet vibe, two different types of lube, a cock ring, massage oils, whipped cream, a multi-pack of condoms, and yes, gum from the checkout stand.

“...I may have gotten a little carried away in the sexual wellness aisle,” she admits.

Brendon’s eyes are still the size of saucers, “God, no kidding, babe, this is all incredible,” he says, stripping off his boxers and opening the box of condoms to tear a packet open with his teeth. It’s a bad habit, and usually, Sara would scold him, but she’s so worked up that she spreads her legs in anticipation anyway. Her mouth goes dry while he strokes himself with lube before he rolls the condom on.

He finally, finally, finally settles over her. “Is this position okay?” he asks.

“It’s perfect, baby; I love getting to see your face when you push into me,” she answers, whining as he drags his cock across her opening.

That’s good enough for Brendon. He rocks forward into her slowly, partly because he’s a tease but partly because he wants this to last as long as possible. After pushing in deep to rub back and forth across her g-spot, he starts thrusting in earnest, relishing her moans and pants.

“Oh B, you feel so good,” she cries out.

“You feel even better, love. Squeezing so nicely around me. So tight and wet,” he says.

Sara scratches down his back in sheer bliss. Brendon’s rhythm is steady, but he’s moving just slowly enough that they can both relish every thrust without feeling overly needy or impatient. She pushes her thighs together to feel him even better inside her.

His thrusts falter for a second, and he chokes out a gasp. “Love you, love feeling you,” he groans, “but it’s been nearly a month since we last had sex, babygirl. If you keep that up, I am going to come.”

She relaxes her thighs just a little bit. “God, I love how sensitive you are right now, babe, responding to my every touch so much. I love you collected and composed too, but it’s such a treat having you so weak for me,” she marvels, stroking the back of his neck.

A shiver goes down his whole spine, and he devotes all of his energy to not coming. “I haven’t touched myself since we last had sex,” he admits, “I figured if my sweet girl couldn’t get off, I couldn’t either. It’s been such a challenge, but fuck, it was worth it. I’m so on edge for you.”

She tightens around him, moving her hand to touch her clit. “Shit, Brendon, that’s so fucking hot. I’m just thinking about you late at night, hard and aching thinking about me, but controlling yourself so it could be all the better when we finally reunited. Did you ever cheat? Did you ever jack yourself but force yourself to pull away right before you came to roll over and go to sleep? God, I bet you had so many dirty dreams. Bet you woke up humping a pillow because your body needed to get off so bad. Bet you’d struggle to hide your hard-on in public when your mind wandered even just a little. Such a dirty needy boy, but so so good for me, aren’t you?” she pants out, squeezing tighter as she talks.

He laughs, “You know me so well, sweetheart, all of the above is true. My roommate was thrilled to have all the hot water for himself this month because… I took a lot of cold showers. I’ll leave it at that. Now, if you don’t mind, I believe you’ve taken my job,” he says, replacing her hand on her clit with his own.

Sara falls back and goes rigid, crying out. He circles his thumb faster as the pace of his thrusts picks up. “I’m gonna come!” She shouts.

“Do it, come on me,” Brendon whispers.

Sara contracts around him, shrieking and convulsing as she comes on him before melting back onto the bed.

Brendon leans down to nip at her shoulder and then kiss her lips. “Good, baby?”

She nods, eyes closed and still panting hard.

“I’ll give you a second,” he murmurs, mostly to himself before pulling out and collapsing down next to her. He strokes over himself while he waits for her to come back down to earth, still rock hard.

“Shit, B, you still haven’t come,” she finally realizes, “do you want me to blow you?”

His cock twitches at the thought.

“Or I could ride you? Let you watch my tits bounce as I fuck you?” She suggests.

“That one wanna be back in that perfect cunt.”

Sara moves to straddle him, rubbing her clit against his tummy and kissing him before moving back to settle on him for real. She lets him thrust up into her a couple of times before moving herself, relishing the way his muscles tense under his flushed skin.

Brendon loves being ridden. He wouldn’t say it’s his favorite position, but it’s up there. It’s even better when Sara takes her bra off, as pretty as it is, and he gets to see her entire naked body. She gets herself at the perfect angle and rides him as hard as she can.

“I’m really not going to last long,” he warns.

Sara tangles her hands back in his hair just like he loves. She’s pulling out all the stops to get him to come. “God, B, me neither, I didn’t think I had it in me, but I’m right back on the edge. Just rub my clit, and I’ll come.”

He moves his hands from her ass to touch her clit.

She shudders, “B, I’m gonna come!”

“Me too,” he grunts out, “do you want me to pull out?”

“No, wanna feel your hot come inside me, even with the condom,” she answers before coming again. Even harder this time as waves of pleasure roll through her entire body.

The rapid contractions around his cock trigger his own orgasm, and his entire head goes blank as he gets lost in the sensation. Sara collapses and situates herself in his arms just as they’re both starting to come down.

He moves, but she stops him. “Honey, I’ve gotta,” he starts, but she whines and shakes her head, knowing exactly where he’s going, “I’ve gotta pull out so we can clean up and eat dinner. Round two after Italian?”

She finally nods but wraps her legs tighter against him anyway, “just two more minutes. Then we can go be romantic.”

***

“Sara, sweetheart, food’s almost here,” he whispers thirty minutes later. He’s wearing pajama pants with no shirt, and his torso’s still wet from the shower he took to rinse off. “Do you wanna go get yourself cleaned up while I set up the coffee table to eat?” He asks.

Sara shakes her head, “I get clingy and needy after sex-”

Brendon cracks a grin because he knows this, of course.

“So you’re stuck with me for the next couple of hours,” she finishes.

“Mm, that’s fine with me, babe. I just want you to be comfortable,” he responds, kissing her forehead.

She moves up into the kiss and realizes that a shower might be nice after all, “Actually, I am a little sticky. Come into the bathroom with me?”

“Anything you want, love,” he says, scooping her up and carrying her to the shower.

He turns the water on for her and then goes to sit on the counter while she rubs off the sweat under the spray. “B?” She calls.

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s nothing fancy, but when you rubbed my clit in little circles, I nearly died on the spot. Normally when I’m alone, I just stroke back and forth, but god, it felt so good to feel something new,” she says. Brendon doesn’t respond immediately. “B?” She calls back timidly, shy now. “B?”

She’s getting worried that he left without her hearing, so she pulls back the shower curtain and has to choke back a moan. Brendon’s still sitting on the counter, his head tipped back on the mirror, palming over himself through his PJ pants.

“God, Sara, sorry, I just love hearing how I make you feel, and I couldn’t help it,” he tells her.

Sara shuts the water off and walks across the bathroom to Brendon, paying no mind to how she’s dripping all over the tile. She yanks him up to his feet and drops to her knees on the padded bathmat in front of the sink. She pulls his pants down just enough- no underwear, she observes without surprise- and takes him in her mouth, getting him slick enough that she can stroke him to total hardness with her hand. Once he’s fully hard, she takes him back in her mouth and sucks hard, making his knees tremble. She bobs her head up and down, stroking him with her hand when she doesn’t have his whole length in her mouth.

He’s bracing himself against the counter to stay upright and not buck into her mouth. She moves down to just stimulate the tip while quickly stroking over the rest of him.

“Can you come for me? Food is going to be here any minute,” she says, looking up at him with big eyes.

“You playing with yourself down there, baby? Getting all wet from sucking me off?” He asks, the dirty talk getting him closer to the edge.

“Oh, you know it, gets me so hot, making you feel good. I wish I had one of my new toys, though,” she pouts before licking his dick again.

Brendon gropes behind himself blindly, trying to find… well. It’s not a vibrator, but it does, well, vibrate, he thinks, hitting the button on his electric toothbrush. He hands it to Sara, who puts it between her legs without hesitation, pressing it against her clit.

She goes weak, moaning a buzzy hum over his cock while she sucks. She knows he’s close by the way his balls are drawing into his body, so she goes ahead and lets herself go. Tightening the pressure around his cock.

“Shit, babe, I’m gonna come,” he warns, hips bucking. “Can I come in your mouth or…?”

She holds up a thumbs up, and he comes, most of it staying in her mouth, but some ends up dripping down her chin. She swallows, and Brendon hands her a wad of toilet paper to wipe off the rest with.

He tucks himself back into his pants and then helps her back to her feet.

“Can I have my toothbrush back, love?” He requests softly.

Sara blushes and takes the still-vibrating toothbrush out from between her legs, “Sorry, I forgot I still had that.”

“No worries,” he responds with a soft chuckle, kissing her forehead. He takes the toothbrush and turns it off before rinsing it off under the sink. “Gosh, you did a number on this thing. It’s soaked,” he marvels, “My perfect messy girl.”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. “Perfect timing, must be the food. I’ll deal with that while you get dressed?” He suggests, and she nods, still a little dazed from the orgasm. Well, orgasms, plural.

She goes back to his room, where she stashed her bag and rummages through it for her pink silk slip nightgown. It’s super simple, just spaghetti straps with a straight-across neckline and then deep pink fabric straight down to just below her ass, but Brendon loves it. She suspects it’s just because she can’t move very much without flashing her butt, but he insists that the slip itself is gorgeous.

As she’s getting dressed, she hears the door open and Brendon apologizing for his relative state of undress, saying he just got out of the shower. Brendon’s naked more often than he’s clothed, so Sara just shrugs it off until she hears a giggle and flirting coming from the delivery girl.

Brendon stammers out that he has a girlfriend, but he’s flattered, but that doesn’t seem to be deterring the delivery girl, who makes an extra point to linger her hand on Brendon’s as she hands him the food. Sara strides out of his bedroom, “Hey, B, have you seen my panties? I can’t find them in your bed or your bathroom or the kitchen or the sofa, so I wonder if I left them in your pocket during our multiple rounds of lovemaking,” She calls before pretending to spot him and the girl for the first time by the door. She scootches in next to him and kisses him on the cheek, plastering a sickly-sweet smile on her face. “My apologies, didn’t know you had a guest,” she lies, shooting death beams at the delivery girl whose hand is on Brendon’s bicep. The girl retracts her hand, and Sara grabs a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet on the doorside table to tip her. Sara knows Brendon would’ve already tipped her on the website, but this more of a ‘please don’t touch my boyfriend without his consent tip’ than a ‘thank you for your work tip.’ “Have a nice day, ma’am,” Sara tells her, shutting the door.

Brendon smirks, but there’s a weariness behind it, “Way to save the day, baby. Getting possessive?”

“No, I love it when others check you out. Just validates how hot I am for you. You just sounded like you do when you get overwhelmed at the grocery store, and I figured you were feeling a little claustrophobic,” she explains.

Brendon nods. “I don’t mind a flirt, but she was getting way too handsy. And even then, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world; I just felt a little vulnerable being shirtless and all. She probably just wanted a big tip. I bet that works for her a lot. And y’know, I probably shouldn’t have been shirtless at all. If I was in a restaurant, they’d have every right to kick me out, so really, I’m lucky she didn’t blacklist my address,” he rambles, turning to get plates and silverware from the kitchen.

Sara touches his shoulder and grabs the bags of food from him. “Hey, B, you don’t need to justify your feelings, okay? I get it; she was in your space. Both your personal space by touching you and your physical area by being near your home. But it’s sweet of you to give her the benefit of the doubt. You’re probably right, I would guess that works with nine out of ten guys; she was cute. And hey, I gave her a nice tip to get her to go away, so it worked on us too.”

“And you got to brag to a stranger about our hot sex life, so it really did all work out in the end,” Brendon half-jokes, and she’s happy to observe that any panic seems to have left his body.

“Mhm, my favorite hobby. Maybe we should order dessert, and I can change into something even more slutty. This shows my ass so nicely, but my chest is totally covered,” she suggests, and he cracks a real smile for her. “Seriously though, you’re totally good?”

“Yes, ma’am, everything’s perfect,” he responds, and he’s telling the truth.

“Good, let me set up dinner then. You go relax on the sofa,” she orders.

Brendon goes to sit on the couch, knowing better than to deny a direct request. Sara plates the food and brings it to the now dim living room, where Brendon’s lit three candles in the center of the table.

“Awww, how romantic,” she praises, settling against Brendon with their food.

“I had more romance planned, I promise, I just weighed my options, and I cared more about snuggling with my girl than trying to overdo it on decorating the living room,” Brendon responds. “I do still have wine in the fridge if you want that?”

She twists around to kiss him. “The romance level is perfect. Consider me totally romanced. I think I’ll wait on the wine until later if that’s okay? It’ll make me sleepy, and I’m still interested in a round two,” she says, resting her hand against Brendon’s thigh.

“Whatever you want is fine with me, love,” he says, sighing contentedly.

***

“You’re falling asleep, babygirl.”

“Am not.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

Brendon smiles, “Do you wanna keep watching the movie, or do you wanna go to bed? If you’re sleepy, that’s fine, but we’ve gotta move to the bedroom then,” he murmurs.

Sara moves off the couch and stretches, turning on the light. “I’m not even tired; I took a nap earlier. It’s just the dim lighting and carb surplus. C’mon, let’s keep watching, it’s only 10 and we’re not even to the, ‘paint me like one of your French girls’ scene.”

“Okay, if you insist, then we’ll soldier on. I’ll get dessert,” he agrees, getting up to head to the kitchen.

“Ooo what’s for dessert?” she asks.

“Cannoli and coffee,” he responds.

Sara moans playfully. “God, Brendon, I’m so turned on right now.”

Brendon rolls his eyes. “I’ll try not to take offense that you’re more attracted to sweets than me.”

Sara wraps her arms around his waist from behind him. “I’d choose you over cannoli any day. Someone could offer me a thousand cannoli and I’d scoff in their face and then go kiss all over you. I love you, babe. Thank you for a great date night,” she says before spinning him around to kiss him.

“I love you too,” Brendon whispers against her lips. “Tonight was wonderful, and I owe it all to you.”

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 1, updated)

After uploading the first part of my plance fic here, I ended up writing more on that same period of time. It’s not much, but I thought I would add it anyway.

This fic is based on the “Someone you like” animatic by honestlyprettychill. Their work is super bomb, so I ask you guys to go check it out and give the artist some love. With this update, I’m hoping to have wrapped up on the pre-Garrison time period, and I have already started writing Pidge’s pov of their time as students, so you’ll have that to look foward to, if you end up enjoying this fic. My other post has more disclaimers, so you can find it here. This story is also available on AO3.

The part I added comes after the -- that I used as a page break.

Thanks to everyone who has liked and reblogged this verse. Feel free to add comments in the tags or to straight up come talk to me. I love feedback.

Spanish to English translations at the end.

14 and 12 years old

The truth was that Lance went to Space Camp because Veronica could be a little pest. She knew their parents wouldn’t let her go alone and so had enticed her younger brother with the promise of travel and foreign girls and no parental supervision.

Veronica had obviously left out the fact that they were essentially going to school on steroids for a month, smack in the middle of their summer break. Cool as Miami might seem, Lance wasn’t exactly excited for all the extra work the camp would entail.

“No es un acampamiento,” his sister repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. He wasn’t listening anymore. “Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” he shot back, defensive. Veronica didn’t dignify that with an answer.

As much as Lance might like to think himself very smooth, there were still times when he stumbled over his words, especially in English. More than once he’d meant to pay someone a compliment and had accidentally started an argument of some kind.

Veronica looked impatiently at her watch. “Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.”

Lance pouted at her, arms crossed over his chest. “Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.”

His sister snickered, but it was as much of an acknowledgement as he was going to get. Veronica pressed a quick kiss to his hair, already turning to go into the main building.

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!”

In all honesty, Lance wasn’t as irritated as he made Veronica believe. He knew that a summer program in Miami was a really good opportunity, especially if he wanted to get into the Garrison in the following years. It was just difficult.

He was diligent and studious, but not as naturally gifted as some of the other kids. Besides, he hadn’t been to the US in a couple years, since his parents had mostly settled down in the family farm, which meant he still had to fall back into his English, a task made even more frustrating by the xenophobic comments from one of the boys in his AP geometry class.

The teacher had put an end to it right away, but the words stuck with Lance, for some reason.

With how much humanity had progressed in terms of technology, one would think they would be able to get past petty rivalry between nationalities and usually that was true, but the influx of foreigners following the establishment of the Galaxy Garrison in the US desert still annoyed some people, despite its existence as a multinational center for space exploration. It irritated Lance to no end, especially when so many of these scientific advances came from international collaboration.

If only he could shrug off the inadequacy that now grew in his chest.

Straight ahead, there was a path that led to a green area in the middle of the campus. The other students had taken to calling it the Woods, though it was more of a middle-sized park, with benches and picnic tables where anyone from the Institute could go to relax. That’s where Lance went, mind too full to really focus on homework.

He wondered if people would react that same way if he ever made it into the Garrison. He didn’t know how Veronica dealt with it all, especially when she was alone in Arizona most of the time. Barely a week had passed and Lance already missed his parents, the tenderness of home-cooked food and well-intended lectures.

No, he had to believe that Billy Underwood was an exception. The other kids hadn’t joined in on his taunts, even if no one had moved to defend Lance. It was still too early to make conclusions on his colleagues, especially when everyone had seemed so charmed by him before then.

Lance was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize he had been standing in front of one of the benches until a new voice broke through the peace of the park.

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

The words were somewhat harsh, but when Lance lowered his eyes to their source the girl winced, grimacing. She seemed to have spoken impulsively.

“Hmm, yeah.” Lance blinked at her for a moment, before finally sitting down on the bench. He made sure to leave space between him and the girl, not wanting to make the situation even more awkward.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” the girl said after a moment of silence. She looked at him sideways and her brown eyes seemed almost golden in the sunlight. There were freckles spread across the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks, and the green ribbon in her hair swayed in the wind. It was a soft sight, a contrast to the steeliness of her posture and gaze.

“It’s fine,” Lance hurried to assure her. She looked young, but so did he, and talking to complete strangers never failed to make him nervous. “Nothing like a little girl yelling at me to bring me back to earth.”

He gave her his best grin, the one reserved for first impressions and fancy parties. It was supposed to project confidence and kindness, even though Luis said he ended up looking a bit smug.

“I didn’t yell,” the girl pointed out with a light frown. Then her eyes shifted into a more calculating look. “You’re a bit of a goofball, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term good-humored,” he replied jokingly.

She continued to stare. Lance got the feeling that the girl did this a lot. She had an untamed intelligence to her that Lance couldn’t completely understand. It was the sort of air that teachers sometimes carried, as if they could see something deeper in you if they looked long enough.

“It didn’t seem like you were feeling all that good-humored just now.” She tilted her head to the side, letting the words hang between them.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Lance found himself saying.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” She looked so doubtful that it almost made Lance laugh. The feeling, however, was overcome by the relief of finally having someone who would listen.

He had spent the week trying and failing to explain to Veronica what was truly making him feel down. She was too busy or too happy for Lance to tell her the truth, especially when it left him so vulnerable. After all, Veronica had taken to her work on the Institute like a fish to water. Lance was supposed to be more adaptable than this.

With the rest of his family away in Cuba, he felt unbearably lonely.

“Yes! Thank you!” Lance shifted in the bench to face the girl. She was taken aback by his enthusiasm, but didn’t move away. “There’s this cabrón in my class, who thought it was a good idea to mess with me, just ‘cause I said fábrica instead of factory in our first day here. He hasn’t really left me alone since…” he whined. “I speak two languages but somehow I’m the uneducated ass here!”

The girl nodded, eyes downcast. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?” He eyed the fairness of her skin and the almost ginger of her hair. “Sorry, but you look white.”

Lance’s comment must have taken her by surprise, because she actually laughed.

“I am white. I’m also Italian.” She rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in the tug of her lips. “I can be both.”

“That’s true.” Lance grinned sheepishly. It was good that she wasn’t offended by his lack of filter. “You don’t have much of an accent, though.”

“Neither do you,” the girl bit back, no real animosity in her tone.

He shrugged. “My family spent a lot of time in the US when I was younger. It used to be second nature to me. Now, I keep feeling like I have to hold back the instinct to roll my R’s.”

“I get that. My parents moved here right after I was born, but we used to speak Italian in the house.” There was a pause here, something that she couldn’t bring herself to say. “I think it’s cool that you can speak Spanish. It’s useful.”

“Yeah?” Lance sat up straight, feeling suddenly boastful.

“Sure!” she continued, encouraged by his interest. “The Bouman Aeronautics Research Institute really values multiculturalism! It is a hob of different nationalities and perspectives, created to foster new minds from around the world! Or that’s what my brother says, at least, and he is rarely wrong.” She gave him a smirk that quickly shifted into a grimace. “Don’t tell him I said that or he will never let me forget it.”

“Older brother?” At her nod, Lance smiled. “I got older siblings too. Sort of the reason I’m here in the first place, actually. One of them was accepted as a researcher and she tricked me into applying too.”

“Same, actually.” She seemed startled for a moment, pulling out her cellphone. “Freak, I have to go! I completely lost track of time while reading.” She got up to go, collecting the book she’d apparently put down to talk to him. It was a thick volume with numbers on the cover, but it didn’t look like math.

Another green ribbon fluttered to the ground, having escaped the pages of the book. Lance bent down to pick it up.

“Here.” He stretched it out to the girl. “Wouldn’t want to lose its pair,” he said with a wink.

“Thanks for reminding me!” She grabbed the ribbon hurriedly, then paused, turning back to Lance. “And for the conversation, I guess.”

Lance grinned at her. She was a little awkward but in an endearing way, like she wasn’t used to having the attention of others on her. Given she empathized with his circumstances in the Institute, it wasn’t that big of a leap to assume that she had trouble making friends.

“Bye bye, Italian girl.” He waved, glad that he could spend these few minutes with her.

“Farewell, Spanish boy.”

Lance meant to correct her about his nationality, but she took out running, clearly late for something. He laughed at the way she stumbled across the uneven ground, careless like a little kid. It was a strange juxtaposition: the thoughtfulness of her earlier words and the childishness of her smile now.

He settled back into the bench, feeling much more content than he’d been earlier. It was nice to talk to people outside of class, for a change.

And, well, Italian girl was pretty. A bit young-looking for him, but he thought guys her age should be tripping over their feet for a chance to talk to her.

“Hey, you’re Lance, right?” A boy had approached while Lance observed the girl disappear from sight. He was tall and robust, with shortly cropped hair, but his expression was friendly. “You’re in my Analytics class.”

It took Lance a second to place him. Analytics was one of the classes Lance struggled with the most, so he hadn’t had as much opportunity to joke around there.

“And you’re Hunk!” Lance snapped his fingers, smiling. “Sit down, man! What can I do for ya?”

--

“No, I promise you, she’s a cutie!” Lance exclaimed, hands waving around in the air. Hunk chuckled at his exuberance.

“I believe you, Lance.” His friend’s tone was fond and amused, which brought a smile to Lance’s face. “You’ve told me about Italian girl a hundred times already. Why don’t you just approach her again? You said you saw her on campus.”

It was true, he had seen her: running across the woods with her arms full of books; sitting by the big windows in the cafeteria, papers spread across the nearby seats; standing under an oak tree with her face turned towards the wind, her long hair escaping from where she’d tied it back.

Lance pouted at Hunk. “She hasn’t spoken to me since…” he mumbled.

“Well,” Hunk scrunched up his brows in thought, “you did say she seemed younger than us. She’s probably just embarrassed about venting to a stranger out of nowhere.”

Lance threw himself onto his bed so that Hunk wouldn’t see his face contort in a grimace. He hadn’t meant to twist the story so badly, but he had already started talking about Italian girl before he realized he didn’t want to share his insecurities with the other boy. Hunk was almost excessively easy to talk to, but they’d known each other for too short a time.

“She didn’t seem like the shy type,” he retorted, arms spread over his head. “Too snipy.”

Hunk had gotten up from his place at the desk and moved to sit on the bed, shaking his head at Lance. He had kind eyes, something that Lance hadn’t really noticed on that first week in the Institute. Some things just got lost amid the noise, he reasoned.

“For someone who feels no shame hitting on random girls, you sure are hung up on this one.” Hunk poked him on the ribs and Lance recoiled, twisting away.

“It’s not like that!” Even as he said it, Lance could feel his neck grow warm. He wasn’t really attracted to the girl, but there was something pleasant about her that did leave him faltering. “Seriously, dude, she’s probably the same age as my little sister!”

Hunk hummed in acceptance. “If you say that’s not it, then I believe you. You just talk about her a lot for someone who you only met once.”

Lance sat up to look Hunk in the eyes. It was true that his mind kept drifting back towards that girl, but he didn’t think the emotion she awakened in him was romantic.

“I’ve just never clicked with anyone like that,” he confessed, bringing his knees up to his chest. “And maybe that’s also why I haven’t talked to her again. ‘Cause what if it was a hoax?”

“So you don’t want to ruin the memory of it?” Hunk put a finger to his chin in a considering motion. “That’s fair.”

There was more to it, but Lance didn’t feel like explaining himself further. Several times he had gone by Italian girl in the library, even stopped to look at her, considering, but whenever she raised those amber eyes to meet his, Lance froze. He blushed and blustered and eventually left.

It was nice to see her smiling, though, even if it was at his expense. She was always alone when Lance saw her and it reminded him of how isolated he’d felt before befriending Hunk.

Italian girl was clearly smart, probably smarter than almost anyone in the institute, given how fast she went through those complicated-looking books. She also spent a lot of time in the library, because it was where Lance most ran into her. It was always her and her astronomy books and her ribbons.

Maybe he was projecting. Luis said he did this a lot.

“I just hope she found a friend here,” he said, more to himself than to Hunk, “someone who will also end up a little late just because they want to hear her out.”

Hunk studied his face, making Lance shift his position in discomfort.

“Who could have known?” the boy started teasingly. “You’re actually a good guy behind all that arrogance.”

Lance used his elbow to push Hunk off the bed, complaining more dramatically than was truly warranted. His friend laughed as he got up, only to throw himself back onto Lance to mess up his hair.

“What the hell, dude? Going for my hairdo?” He tried to free himself from Hunk’s arm around his neck. “Friendship over! We are no longer rooming when we get to the Garrison!”

Hunk didn’t let up and the two continued to laugh well into the afternoon.

Their time in the Institute would end in a little over a week, and Italian girl would drift to the back of Lance’s mind to become a lovely memory, just the afterimage of someone who could have meant more to him.

Translations:

“No es un acampamiento.Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.” - “It’s not a camp. You know that the field of space exploration is not very well developped in Cuba. If you really do want to work in this area, then simply shut up and don’t insult anyone.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” - “When have I insulted anyone?”

“Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.” - “Look, I have a meeting with my coordinator. And you have at least two articles to read for tomorrow’s classes. Why don’t you go work for a bit in the library? I promise to buy you a burger later.”

“Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.” - “You owe me more than a burger and you know it, Ronie.”

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!” - “Thank you, little brother! You won’t regret it!”

Cabrón - Bastard

[badchoicesposts]

Loyalty Or Royalty

Chapter 14

Summary: Mia Bhatt spent years trying to escape her past, trying to escape the feeling of betrayal that was left in her heart after the fire, and she finally had. She was marrying the King of Cordonia and was finally going to get her happily ever after. But, after a momentary lapse in judgement caused her to send a wedding invitation to someone she was sure had forgotten about her, she realizes that sometimes the past has a way of crawling back to you.

Author’s Note: In this fic Anton and The Sons of Earth were caught before the wedding. Also this story will contain flashbacks that will be in italics.

Sorry this chapter took so long. I’ve been in the middle of a semi hiatus but I’m hoping to get on a more consistent uploading schedule now that I’ve finished writing the series. Thanks so much for your patience and for reading!!

Pairing: Liam x MC (Mia Bhatt), Platonic!Colt x MC, Past!Logan x MC

Word Count: 4,388

Taglist: @flowerpowell​​​​​​​, @dcbbw​ , @texaskitten30​​​​​​​, @kingliam2019​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @lovehugsandcandy​ @los-cafeteros​ @desireepow-1986​ @lovemychoices​​​​​​​​, @kimmiedoo5​

Catch Up: Masterlist

“Smoking will kill you one day,” Mia said, as Kaneko continued to smoke a cigar beside her. 

The man let out a soft sigh and stubbed out the last of it, causing Mia to smirk at him.

“You’ll thank me when you don’t get lung cancer,” she said, satisfied with the results of her nagging.

“Or I’ll just smoke when you’re not around to lecture me,” Teppei said back, resting his hand on her back as he led her through the crowd of people at the sideshow. 

When he had asked her if she wanted to come with him, she had said yes, opting to get away from the garage for the first time in what felt like forever. However, she had no interest in inhaling cigar smoke for the next few hours while she was with him. 

“Lecturing you on your poor life choices is how I show my affection,” she said sarcastically, causing Teppei to laugh loudly. 

They moved through the crowd fairly easily, people automatically clearing a path for them once they noticed Kaneko’s presence. It immediately reminded Mia of how intimidating Kaneko truly was, how untouchable he was to these people. It was easy to forget that when she was with him. The man was always kind and gentle with her. He took care of her and protected her even when she mouthed off to him because that’s what parents did and Teppei Kaneko was the closest thing she had to a parent. But, to these people Teppei wasn’t a parent. He was someone to be feared. 

The two of them came to a stop when they noticed Logan walking towards them. He was accompanied by a girl who looked to be about their age wearing a red tube top. Although she was dressed the same as everyone else who was at the sideshow, she still seemed to be out of place. 

“Didn’t expect to find you at a place like this, boss, hanging with a bunch of lowlife tuners,” Logan said, acknowledging Kaneko and nodding discreetly in Mia’s direction to greet her.

“Just taking some meetings,” Kaneko said before turning to the girl. “And who might this be?”

“I’m Ellie. Logan’s date,” the girl said, smiling kindly at Kaneko.

Kaneko eyed the two of them critically before pulling Logan to the side. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could see Teppei handing Logan his keys.

“So, how do you know Kaneko?” Ellie asked her, her voice a bit hesitant.

“I’m his charity case,” Mia said sarcastically, forgetting for a moment that Ellie didn’t know her well enough to know she was joking around. “He’s my guardian.”

“Oh, have you known him for long?” she asked.

“My whole life,” Mia clarified.

Logan started to walk back over to them, and he shot Mia a nervous look before wrapping his arm around Ellie’s shoulders. 

“Amelia,” Kaneko called, inclining his head to indicate that she should follow him. 

Mia gave the two of them an awkward smile before following after Kaneko. He handed her a wad of cash and told her to grab something to eat while he took care of some business and that he would meet up with her later. As Mia walked around the sideshow, munching on french fries she got from Vaughn’s truck, she felt unsettled. She and Logan hadn’t been spending much time together since they ended things. In fact she had been spending as much time as she could in Colt’s room. She had been lonely since she and Logan had been pulling away from each other and being in Colt’s room made her feel closer to him. Now seeing Logan with someone else made her heart ache. It was all suddenly too much. 

Mia’s attention suddenly shifted when she heard an excited murmuring all around her. She heard Logan make the bet with Salazar to win Vaughn’s truck, and she couldn’t help but wonder. She wondered why Kaneko gave him the car keys in the first place. She wondered why Logan thought it was a good idea to bet Kaneko’s car. He knew better than that no matter how much he cared about Vaughn. She felt a presence behind her and looked up to see Kaneko standing by her, watching closely as the race began. 

“What’s going on?” she asked. She could tell there was more going on than he was telling her. 

“He’s just showing off for the girl,” Kaneko said, brushing off the topic.

“What if he loses?”

“He won’t.”

Mia wasn’t sure how it was that Kaneko was always right, but he was. Logan won the race and Salazar wasn’t happy about it, beginning to take it out on Kaneko’s car. She cringed at the sight of it being destroyed, but was surprised that Kaneko wasn’t upset with Logan for it. 

“So. This is who you replaced me with. This narcissist,” a familiar voice pulled Mia from her thoughts. 

While he was busy glaring at Logan, she couldn’t fight the huge smile that broke out onto her face. 

“Colt!” she said, excitedly throwing herself into his arms.

He let out a soft groan before hugging her tightly.

“Hey, Mellie,” he said softly.

“Colt? What are you doing in L.A.?” Kaneko asked, a look of shock on his face.

“Hey! Jerk! The only narcissist here is you!” Ellie said, causing Mia to hold back a laugh as Colt released her from his embrace.

At her words, Colt’s cold demeanor went back up. He kept one arm wrapped around Mia’s shoulders as he addressed her.

“This isn’t your concern.”

As they made plans to head back to the garage a selfish part of Mia was glad that Colt was back. She was glad that he was finally home. He handed her the keys to his bike and settled onto it behind her. As the two of them took off down the street, Mia had no idea just how complicated the next few months were going to become.

~~~

Mia walked through the palace halls and to Bastien’s office. She knocked on the door and waited for him to call her in before pushing the door open and settling down onto one of the seats in front of his desk.

“Morning,” she said, faking a smile as she greeted him.

“Good morning. What can I help you with?” he asked, offering her a smile.

Mia took a deep breath. Her mind had been reeling since Drake had asked her what she wanted to do to fix things with Kaneko, and she had finally come to a decision. 

“Do you have any contacts in American law enforcement?”

Bastien seemed surprised at her words. 

“Um, yes, of course. Is there anyone specific that you’re looking to get into contact with?”

“I don’t really know. I’m hoping that maybe the crew and Kaneko can work out some kind of deal with them. I know that I’ll need to talk to him and all of them first. It’s not really my decision to make for them, but this is the only logical solution I could come to. I just want to make sure we have everything in place if they agree to it,” she said.

“I have someone in the FBI that I could put you in contact with,” he said, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a small notebook. 

“Thank you,” she said, leaning back into the chair and letting out a slow breath.

“Are you alright?” Bastien asked, offering her a sympathetic smile. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? Because I had my father arrested last night, or because my marriage is already a failure and it’s only been two weeks?” she asked sarcastically. “How is he doing?” 

“He’s been surprisingly calm,” Bastien said, causing her to chuckle softly.

“If anyone could handle being arrested it’s Kaneko,” she said, the thought actually making her smile not out of malice but out of almost fondness.

“Mia, if you don’t mind me saying, I know that what your father said about you and Liam bothered you, but he does love you. I’ve watched him grow up and become the man he is today, and I’ve never seen him happier than when he’s with you. He loves you more than he’s ever loved or cared for anyone. You shouldn’t doubt that,” he said.

“So, I’ve heard,” she joked, although her laugh didn’t actually sound fully genuine. “Um, I’m going to have to talk to… my dad. Can I see him?”

Bastien noted that she was clearly changing the subject, but didn’t mention it. Instead an almost knowing smile graced his lips instead.

“He’s actually still here,” he said, causing her to look at him curiously. “I assumed you would either regret your decision or change your mind after some time to think about it, and I didn’t want to move him too far just in case. I’ve had him under constant supervision, and the guards were instructed not to let him out of his room.”

Mia let out a genuine laugh at this, finally relaxing for the first time in what seemed like forever.

“Am I really that predictable?” she asked.

“No. You just have a good heart, and you’re not vidictive enough to want to punish him for the things he’s done to hurt you.”

“Thank you, Bas.”

“Of course. I’m only telling you the truth of what I’ve observed about you. I’ll take you to see him.”

Bastien led her to Kaneko’s bedroom and she knocked softly on the door before letting herself in. Kaneko was sitting down on his balcony, staring calmly up at the sky above him. 

“Can I sit with you?” she asked, her voice soft as he turned to look up at her.

He motioned for her to take a seat next to him and she did, kicking off her shoes and pulling her feet up under her. 

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes. “I was angry, and I acted on impulse.”

“I understand why you did it, Amelia,” he said.

“I’m still sorry. I almost immediately regretted it. But, apparently everyone knew I would and that’s why Bas didn’t actually arrest you,” she said, letting out a soft laugh. “I want to hate you. I want to hate you so bad, but I can’t no matter how hard I try.”

“That’s because you have a good heart. You get it from your mother,” Teppei said, causing her to wipe away a stray tear.

“Did she cry about everything too?” she joked, hugging her knees to her chest.

“Yes, she did actually,” he responded, letting out a slow laugh. “I see so much of her in you. All of the good in you is from her.” 

“I miss her everyday.”

“As do I,” he said, the tender look in his eyes shocking her. “If I had known that she was with him that night, I would have never…”

“I know, and as much as I want to be mad at you for what happened, I believe that you never meant to hurt her,” she said. “I missed you too, you know. Everyday for the past seven years. I think I may have spent more time mourning your death than I ever thought I would.”

Kaneko looked at her sadly and reached out, taking her hand in his and squeezing it tightly. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, their hand grasped tightly together. 

“Amelia, I’m sorry if what I said has affected your marriage in any way,” he said, and she could tell he was being sincere.

“It’s nothing I hadn’t thought about myself at some point. I was just too scared to say anything. I thought that if I was too vulnerable or if I brought any of that stuff up, he would decide that I wasn’t worth it,” she admitted, not sure why it was so easy spilling all of her feelings to him, but knowing that she could trust him anyway.

“That boy loves you. Everyone can see it. Everyone makes mistakes in relationships, but that doesn’t mean they’re not worth fighting for. I can tell you already know this, but forgiveness can go a long way,”

Mia nodded and tried to take in his words. She still wanted to be upset with Liam, especially after hearing that he would have married Madeleine anyway if Tariq hadn’t come forward, even knowing that his father was behind the scandal. But, Liam made it so hard to be mad at him. Although his actions had negatively affected her on more than one occasion, he had also shown her how much he loved her countless times. She found herself questioning if she even had a right to be mad in the first place. Everything had still worked out in the end, so did it even matter anyway?

However, her mind couldn’t stop going back over the “what ifs”. What if Tariq hadn’t come forward? Then, they wouldn’t be together right now because Liam wouldn’t have fought for her. “What if they hadn’t found Tariq at all?” Then they definitely wouldn’t be together because Liam wouldn’t have fought for her.

“I guess there’s still so much about being royalty that I don’t understand, so much about public image and that directly affecting people’s idea of whether or not someone is able to make a good leader. Well, that’s not true. I understand it to an extent. I’ve seen firsthand how terrible people can be to you when you’re in the public eye. I just… I just need to know that he loves me more than he cares about having the perfect image,” she said. “I need some kind of reassurance that I’m just as important to him as all of this is. Does that make me selfish?”

“No, it makes you human. It’s not unrealistic to want some kind of validation. However, you shouldn’t let your insecurities ruin a relationship as wonderful as the one you have. Liam may have made some poor decisions, but he loves you very much, and anyone can see that you make each other very happy.”

Mia thought over his words. They made sense. They actually made a lot of sense, and for a second she hated that even though he was an infuriating man, Kaneko always seemed to be so wise. Her mind wandered back over to the reason she had come to see him in the first place, and she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the topic she was about to bring up.

“While you were… uh, pretending to be dead everyone has tried to move on. Logan got his GED and is trying his best to put himself through college, Ximena is working at a tattoo parlour and she seems pretty happy there, and Toby is doing something with… tech stuff,” she said, not completely understanding what Toby did. “The only ones who haven’t really moved on are Colt and Mona. I’m not really sure how I can help them move on or if they even want to, but I spoke to Bastien, and he has a contact with the FBI. I know it’s not my decision, but I thought that maybe you guys can make some kind of deal with them. Maybe if you help them catch The Brotherhood, you can work some kind of minimum sentencing out. We’ll obviously have to talk to the rest of the crew, because it’s their lives not mine, but I think that may be the most logical way of making sure everyone has a way to move on with their lives. Maybe for the first time, they won’t have to constantly look over their shoulders. They can have a normal life where they’re not always worried about the cops and being on the run.”

Kaneko was silent for a long time. He seemed to be thinking over her offer. She didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s life. She knew how hard they had all worked to get where they are today, but if she could help them put that chapter of their lives behind them then she would do everything in her power to do it. When he looked back up at her, he studied her face intently for a moment before nodding his head. 

“Let’s speak to the crew.”

~~~

Mia walked around her and Liam’s bedroom getting ready for bed. She shrugged out of her clothes, feeling Liam’s eyes on her back, and she pulled one of his t shirts over her head, the hem falling to her mid thigh as she removed her jewelry. She pulled the blue grotto bracelet off, her eyes lingering on the item as she thought of what Kaneko had said earlier about not letting her insecurities ruin a good relationship. 

“Did Bas catch you up on everything?” she asked, walking over to the bed and getting settled as he began undressing as well.

“Yes, I have to admit, I was shocked that everyone agreed to your plan,” he said, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and settling down next to her. 

“It wasn’t easy. Mona and Colt didn’t want to. But, I think Colt changed his mind once he realized that… our dad agreed to it. I’m still not completely sure what’s going through Mona’s head, but we’re going through with it. Bas said his contact will be here on Wednesday.”

“You called him your dad,” Liam observed, a faint smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I guess we had a bit of a heart to heart today. I’m still not over it all, but I love him, and I can’t just turn that off because I’m upset,” she said, the double meaning of her words clearly evident to him. “I need a favor.”

“Anything. Anything at all,” Liam quickly said, causing her to smile at how quickly he offered to help.

“We all agreed that Teppei would be the one to meet with the agent and obviously Bas is going to be there, but one of us should be there too. I would do it myself, but I think I’ve proven that I get way too emotional when it comes to stuff with the crew and I don’t want to ruin things because I started crying in the middle of the meeting,” she confessed, looking up at him hopefully. “I’ll trade you your meeting with Francesco for my meeting with the FBI.”

Liam laughed at the way she phrased the offer and took her hand in his. 

“I’d be happy to,” he said. 

The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Liam hesitantly broke  it. 

“I’ve been thinking all day about your question,” he finally admitted, causing Mia to turn in bed so that she was facing him.

“So, have I, and I wanted to apologize. I was feeling insecure, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry,” she admitted, nervously chewing on her bottom lip and refusing to meet his eyes. 

Liam placed a finger under her chin and leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. She sat there unmoving for a moment before sinking into the kiss herself, allowing her body to relax into her arms. 

“I understand why you felt the need to ask. You were right. I haven’t fought for you nearly as much as you’ve fought for me. I knew that the social season and engagement tour was hard on you, but I never stopped to really think about how much it affected you because I was overwhelmed. I hadn’t expected to take the throne so early, and I had my father in my ear urging me to make certain decisions. He led me to believe that I needed to do certain things to be a good king, and I listened because I trusted him and wanted to be the best king that I could be. However, in the process I neglected you and that is the biggest mistake I have ever made,” he confessed, taking her hand and beginning to play with her wedding band and engagement ring. 

“A few months ago I would have married Madeleine. I would have married her because I thought that it was my duty, but I would have never been happy. I would have never been able to move on. But now, being able to love you freely and openly, being able to spend all of my days and nights with you has completely changed me. Being with you has changed me in the best way possible. I love Cordonia, and I want to be the best king that I can be, but first and foremost, I want to be the best husband possible, and whenever we’re ready, I want to be the best father possible because as much as I love Cordonia, all of this, being king and a leader means nothing to me without you. It means nothing to me without family.”

Mia felt her heart swell up in her chest, and she practically pounced on him, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“Thank you for saying that,” she said, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. “I know that I’m the whole reason we had that disagreement. I let the negative thoughts overtake me, and I looked past all of the amazing things we have together and I shouldn’t have. I’ve been trying to work on that, but I still have the tendency to doubt myself, and I shouldn’t have been taking it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“I understand why you felt the way that you did, love. But, I want you to know how much I love you, why I love you,” he said, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

Mia pulled herself off of him and smiled at him curiously. 

“What’s with the look?” she asked, giving him an amused smile.

“I… I made a list,” he said, not making eye contact with her.

“A list?”

“You’re going to make fun of me,” he groaned, finally looking up at her. 

“Li, I make fun of you everyday, and I’ve recently been running out of material, so you might as well tell me,” she teased, climbing onto his lap and resting her hands on his chest.

“I made a list of all the reasons I love you, or at least most of them,” he said.

“Oh, my god, Liam, you’re such a softy,” she said, bringing her hand up to her chest and practically swooning.

“I knew you would make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun of you. That’s legitimately the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Are you going to show me?”

Liam reached over to his nightstand and handed her a folded piece of paper. Mia smiled widely as she opened it and glanced down at the list. She felt her cheeks begin to heat up as she glanced back up at him.

“Read it to me,” she said, handing it back and cuddling into his side.

Liam sucked in a breath and began to read.

“Okay I started off with the basics,” he said, reading the first three items on the list. “Number one, I love you because you’re smart. Number two, I love you because you’re beautiful. Number three, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met and you’re a force to be reckoned with.”

“Wow, you’re off to a great start,” she said, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 

“I love that you’re not afraid to show your emotions and be vulnerable. You cry at just about everything,” he said, yelping out in pain as she pinched his arm. “But, there’s a but at the end of that sentence. But, I think it proves how empathetic you are, which leads me to my next point. When you love someone you love them with your whole heart. You feel things deeply and strongly, and I greatly admire that.”

“Okay, you fixed it,” she said, relaxing into him once again. However, her eyes soon narrowed as she saw the word “cry” once again. “Is there another one about me crying on here?”

“I love that you cry every time you see an ASPCA commercial and you insist that we need to give Hercules five furry siblings.”

“You’re on thin ice, mister,” she grumbled out, checking to make sure that there weren’t any more items about her crying on the list.

“I love that even though you have one of the kindest hearts of anyone in the world, you still manage to be the most passive aggressive person I’ve ever met,” he said, laughing as she punched his arm again.

“What did I just say?” she asked, before Liam shushed her and continued reading.

“I love you because you handle everything that’s thrown your way with grace and poise, and I know that you’ll be an amazing queen. You’re still adjusting to your role, but you’ll be unstoppable once you find your footing. I love you because when you’re nervous you belt out show tunes and dance around in your underwear,” he said with a soft laugh, causing her to blush furiously. “I love you because you push me to be a better person. You make me want to be a better man, a better king, and a better husband. I know you said that you’ve kept the things you were afraid I couldn’t love from me but I hope that you’ll continue to open yourself up because no matter what happens I’ll always love you. I’ll always want you. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

“You’re such a sap,” she said, although the lovesick smile on her face gave away what she was really feeling.

Liam chuckled and flipped them over in bed, his body hovering over hers as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“You bring it out in me,” he mumbled.

“Should I make a list too?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into another soft kiss.

“I wouldn’t object to it,” he joked, rolling off of her and pulling her close.

Liam leaned over to turn off the lamp on his bedside table as Mia began prattling on about all the reasons she loved him.

[cyberdva]

Trick Or Treat- Richie Tozier X Reader (Imagine☆)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Summary- The reader and The Losers Club decide to go Trick Or Treating, while Richie tries to continuously flirt with Y/N. The rest of their friends are fed up with Richie’s banter and try to get the two together with a bit of help from each other. Just their luck Richie had already done the job for them.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Main Masterlist

IT Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Date Uploaded: 10/30/19

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Halloween is tomorrow, so why not bless ourselves with a poorly written Richie fic. 

 ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Hey Eds, what the hell are you supposed to be?” Richie bolted out his front door running to meet up with his short friend who was inconveniently covered in toilet paper.

He shot his friend a glare, “I’m supposed to be a mummy, you think my mom would let me be anything else.”

Richie laughed, “Aw, your mommy picked out your costume again.” He made a kissy face and inched towards Eddie. The other boy jumped away.

“What the fuck are you even supposed to be anyways?”

Richie pulled his cape under his eyes and hissed, “I’m a vampire, it’s completely obvious Eds.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “What are you going to do? Bite Y/N?”

Richie went even paler under his white makeup, Eddie was one of the only people who knew about Richie’s enormous crush on Y/N.’

“That shut you up,” he mumbled. Just in time, Stan met up with the two bantering boys, his face had makeup with cold dark eyes and light green skin, a zombie.

“Are you guys fighting again?” Stanley tried his best to remain neutral in these arguments, even though they make no sense. 

“Richie is talking about how much he loves-“ Richie slammed Eddie’s mouth shut. Only muffled shouts could be heard. 

Stanley looked around for Bill and tried to stay involved in the conversation, ”Wow, Richie has a crush. What a shocker.” The two boys were barely paying attention as they fought in the background. Eddie ended up winning and vigorously tried to wipe off any germs that Richie has left on his mouth. Beverly came up behind the disheveled ‘mummy’ and jumped on his shoulders. It resulted in a shrieking sound, Eddie was just about to head home if Bill didn’t show up moments later. 

Beverly has decided to dress up as a cat, a normal costume for someone her age, and Bill dressed up as Marty McFly. He was late on the trend but hadn’t gotten the chance to dress up like him before. 

Ben came wandering up the street and sat next to Beverley on a half-empty bench, Bill took notice. He was dressed as one of the New Kids On The Block, which highly amused Beverly. 

“Where’s Mike and Y/N?” Bill wanted to get the show on the road and stay near Beverly as much as he could. There were so many houses to explore and so little time with the dumb curfew in place. 

Beverly sat down on the grass, “Mike said he was meeting Y/N at her place, they should be here any minute.”

“Since when do they hang out alone?” asked Richie. 

“Why do you ask Richie, are you jealous?” Eddie snickered at the confused boy. 

“Am not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“Eddie you know wha-“

Mike cut both of them off, “Sorry we’re late, Y/N wanted to make sure she had everything ready.” The whole group relapsed when they saw her costume, a makeshift clown, that looked a tad-bit like Pennywise, stood in front of them. Mike was dressed as Doc from Back To The Future to match Bill. All of them had exceptional costumes, except for Eddie. 

“Eddie, what are you wearing?” was the first thing to come out of Y/N mouth. 

“See even she agrees with me that your costume sucks!” Richie gaped. 

She frowned, “I didn’t say that I just want to know why he’s covered in toilet paper.”

“Well, you meant it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Eddie let out a huff, “Are we going to get candy or not.”

The sun had already set and the already cold temperature began to drop even lower. It was only 7 and that didn’t leave much time until 10. The day before everyone tried to map out what houses would be the best to go to, but it ended up with Richie scribbling all over the paper and Bill lecturing him on proper behavior, exciting isn’t it. They ended up scrapping the map and just running around through town. 

“How about we start by Main Street and make our way to Jackson?” Mike had the best sense of direction out of all of the Losers, a natural talent he developed while bucking through town. 

Stan nodded, “That sounds like a good plan.” They all made their way up the street, separating into their smaller groups. Eddie, Richie, and Y/N held up the back, mostly joking about Eddie’s trashy outfit. Beverly and Bill decided to lead all of them, flashlights in hand, discussing some leftover English homework. The middle has a mix of Ben, Stan, and Mike as they chatted about which house had the most candy. 

The streets began to quickly fill with smaller children. Really no one in their grade had decided to go out for candy, a party had been the main focus for the high school students. As per usual, none of the nine kids had been invited, they didn’t even know of the event, better that they didn’t. All they hoped was that Bowers or any other new bullies, or harassers had decided to gang up on them. 

Ben stopped the group and pointed at a giant green house, “Guys look at the size of that one! I bet you they have a lot of candy!”

“That’s what she said.” Richie joked. 

Y/N just looked at him, “How does that even make sense.” They both laughed as they approached the house. Richie has the need to be funny in front of her, regardless of how loud he really was, if he made her laugh it was worth it.  The rest of the teens were halfway up the driveway while the other two jokes about phony decorations.

“Could you guys be any slower,”  complained Bev. Her voice was strongly overpowered by the teens’ hearty laughs. The night began like that, the group would get candy and move onto another house and so on. All of a sudden the perfect idea popped into Richie’s head.

“Do you want to go do something?” Richie beamed, he had a devious plan and it had to work.

“What do you mean?” he pulled her away from the rest of the group.

“Let’s go do something fun, come on this is so boring.” Y/N shrugged in response, as much as she wanted to hang out with her friends whatever Richie was thinking sounded a lot more entertaining. Richie tried to compromise, now was his chance! 

“Come on, please!”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

The moon loomed over the Losers Club as Mike shivered, his costume wasn’t enough to keep him warm. He felt like his parents were getting impatient just by the hour, they weren’t too happy with him being out with his friends so late. He wished that this could go quicker, but with Bill that might just be impossible. 

“Come on guys, this is the last house on the street.” He huffed. Wait… someone’s missing. He tried to do a headcount and two were gone. Y/N and Richie, of course. 

He looked around, but there was no sight of them. No one seemed to notice their disappearance, but it was quieter. Stanley noticed Mike behind him and they linked up. They filled each other in. The rest continued on in confusion.

“Where did they go?” Stanley shined his cracked flashlight around the neighborhood, all he could see was heaps of children.  “Have you guys seen the two jokesters around anywhere?” Stanley called out a few shouts of “No!” and “Where are they?” emerged from the teens.

Eddie smiled, “Maybe Richie finally made his move.” He slapped his mouth shut, no one else knew about Richie’s ‘dirty secret and he sure as hell didn’t mean to enhance it.

The group stopped walking, “Wait he seriously likes her.” Ben asked. None of them really seemed to care anyway. It wasn’t a huge revelation.

Eddie shook his head, “Just pretend I said nothing.”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Just this way,” Richie guided, “I swear we’re almost there.”

A singular beam of light gleamed in front of them, Y/N could barely see anything. The area was of course familiar, The Kissing Bridge. She had no idea on why Rich brought her there, her costume began to itch, few bugs began attacking her arms and legs. The bumps would be worth it in the end. They made their way inside the rickety old bridge, it creaked with on small footstep, ready to collapse. Frogs croaked in the bathroom and Y/N didn’t know why she was there.

“Rich, what are we doing?” she slapped a mosquito on her elbow, the silence was cut with a knife.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “I personally didn’t want to go collect candy with them.”

She laughed, “That’s an interesting way to put it, but seriously, what do you want to do?”

He thought, what could they do that would be fun, curfew was coming in quick and there was no stores open.

“We could skip rocks?” What kind of response was that? Skipping rocks, how interesting.

 Surprisingly she nodded her head and the two began to walk down a hill. Leaves crunched below them, the boy started to collect pebbles

He handed her a few, he picked the small and round ones just for her, “Here, take these.

“Thanks.” Their hands brushed together and the throwing began. Few rocks managed to skip, none of them paid any attention to the activity. Both drifted off into a sort of dream-like state.

“You know what, I’m just gonna say it.” Richie’s emotions got the best of him.

Y/N turned to look him in the eyes, completely oblivious to what was happening, “Say what?” He took a deep breath, “I like you alot and I needed to know if you want to go see a movie with me. Only if you want.”

Y/N’s eyes went big, “Wait really? I’d love too!”

Relief washed over him, “Good, I thought you liked Eddie or something.”

“Wow, good one.” she laughed.

The rest of their night went swimmingly, jokes and stuffing their faces with candy. The perfect Halloween night for a teen, even if they were home late, far passed the curfew. All worth it.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

[Fic] All due respect here... (there's no respect due)

Let’s try one last time... I truly apologise if the cut doesn’t work on mobile, I am posting from my laptop.

Enough is enough, they're right. There’s only so much that can be forgiven, before one’s indulgence becomes a red flag. Loneliness is not an excuse, Martino.

“You need to put your foot down” they keep saying. “You need to draw a line and say: this is unacceptable. If you step over the line once you get a warning, but do it twice and we’re done.”

It's just that… you know… He feels so stupid, now? He has been so blind, so naïve and nearly let himself be played like a fiddle. Hurting those who really care about him, and for what? Approval?

The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. The signals were all there, for fuck’s sake!

Lulling him into a sense of comradery, that he had been missing ever since his friends from high school had all chosen different paths… Yeah, that’s how it had all started. With him, trying so desperately to fill that void. It hadn’t been as difficult as had imagined to bond over incomprehensible lectures, disgusting coffee and eclectic lifestyles. Francesco had been the first to approach him, complimenting his Apparat-inspired T-shirt and asking where he bought it. It hadn’t seen anything quite like it on the Internet, or he would have remembered! Deciding it was best to weed out the homophobes straight away, Martino told him the truth: it was a gift from his boyfriend. Not quite his usual style, but since it made Nico happy to see him wear it…

“Oh man, you’re so whipped.” Francesco had commented, instead, laughing. “But hey, who am I to judge? I’m actually a bit jealous, you know. No one ever made me something that cool. Do you think I could commission him one?”

Marti did, but he had been wrong. Niccolò wasn’t interested in designing clothes for anyone else, and while he was flattered by Fra’s proposal he would have to turn it down. Not exactly a great start, but Martino didn’t think much of it. This wasn’t kindergarten and surely Francesco wouldn’t hold that refusal against Nico.

Marina had literally saved his life, when he crossed the street and didn’t look as he was in the middle of some lovely banter with Niccolò. In return for her heroic deed, he was bound to treat her to lunch. Or a coffee, at least. The way she delivered that ridiculous request, wiggling her head and biting her lips – like a mischievous child, amused by their own audacity – reminded him so much of a certain someone… that he found himself discussing the top 10 TV shows betrayals of the decade (no! they were never going to forgive D&D for what he had done to Daenerys!) over a cappuccino. She might have been side-eyeing him for checking his phone a little too much, but he didn’t really care.

And then came Lorenzo. Well, it was actually Martino who had reached out to him. Who found him sitting on the floor of a dingy bathroom, crying his eyes out. Years ago, he would have stepped out and let someone else comfort a stranger. But then… Then he though ‘what I was the one sitting there? what if it was Nico? I don’t want to think everyone would just walk away and pretend they didn’t see him…’ and sat down next to him. He didn’t ask if he was okay, when he clearly wasn’t. He didn’t ask why he was so distraught. It wasn’t any of his business, and the question alone would have made this guy feel worse. It was a lesson he had learnt the hard way, through his own experience and Nico’s.

“Oi, you got 2 tens or 4 fives? Some spare coins? I’ve only 20€ in my wallet, and that fucking machine never gives you the right change if you put in more than a 10€ note.”   He had asked, when Lori looked up.

“I… I…” He had said, sniffling. Frantically, he had started looking for the money and seemed truly sorry he couldn’t help Martino out.

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ll manage. So, what can I get you? You look like you could use some hot chocolate, though I’m afraid I can only find vaguely chocolatey-flavored water, around here.”

He didn’t think he would get to meet any of them ever again, and then one day he spotted them all sitting at the same table. It wasn’t like Martino had ever believed in fate, but that did seem like a coincidence straight out from a Norwegian teen drama. A French romance. Not that he had ever watched either of them, of course. An occurrence meant to show him that the universe had plans, for the four of them.

In hindsight, he should have told the universe where he could shove its plans…

For a while, however, Martino thought there could hardly be anybody on Earth who got luckier than him in when it came to friendship. They always knew where to find the next best party but didn’t mind spending a night in, binge-watching the latest trashy show that had been uploaded on Netflix. Playing FIFA. Discussing politics, and even ethics and philosophy when they were more than a little drunk.

Everything changed, however, when things started to get a bit more personal. When they started dispensing details about their crushes, their heartbreaks, and Martino foolishly felt comfortable enough to share more of his life with Nico. Painting quite an idyllic picture, as complaints and rants about his inability to tidy up a room and tendency to zone out when they were discussing financial matters would only ever be disclosed to Giovanni. Nevertheless, to say that they weren’t his biggest fans would be an understatement.

  “Let me guess, it’s Nico. Again.”

 “Okay… So, he can leave on read for hours, but starts panicking if you don’t answer straight away?”

 “He put salt in your coffee because you weren’t paying attention? Is he… like, five or something? But well, if you find that endearing… You do you, man.”

 And it only got worse after they met him, and began spinning a whole other narrative in which Martino was either a hero or a martyr, for ‘putting up’ with Nico.

 “Oh, you're such a great guy not giving up on that.”

 “You sure must love him a lot to endure all of his up and downs.”

He reassured them all, told them that he appreciated the concern but that they barely knew Niccolò so he wouldn’t stand for any further slandering of his boyfriend.

So they laid low, and stayed quiet, for a while. It hurt them to see Martino trapped in what clearly was an abusive relationship, but there was nothing more that could be said or done about it. Whenever Nico was mentioned, they changed the subject.

Until tonight. Asking them both to join them at a party, and then corner him and attempted to stage an ‘intervention’.

Couldn’t he see how possessive and controlling Niccolò was, manipulating Marti into thinking his new friends were out to get him?

 “The two of you, against the world? Doesn’t it sound disturbing to you?”

 “Marti, come on, you have to admit that he has controlling tendencies. He shouldn’t need to know where you are at all times, doing what, with whom. He shouldn’t come up and snatch you away, whenever he notices you spend time talking to the same person for more than 2 minutes.”

 “It’s like he can’t stand not being at the center of your attention 100% of the time.”

How… How dare they? Who the fuck do they think they are?

“Get out of my face, you fuckers. If I hear you badmouthing Nico ever again, you’re gonna regret it.”

Thankfully, they don’t try to stop him when he storms out the room. The last thing he wants is to end up in a fight, and having Niccolò find out it was because of him. It had already happened once, with Malik and his friends, and… No revival of that was needed, thanks.

Little do they know about their late conversations, when Martino had indeed noticed was off with Niccolò and tried to find out how he could help. Because Marti couldn’t relate to the magnitude of Niccolò feelings, sure, but he had been there the year before. When everyone in Uni had seemed far more interesting that a boy who still attended high school…

Niccolò has a jealous streak, sure. That had been clear ever since he put in his pasta. But it wasn’t the ugly side of jealousy, stemming from a warped sense of ownership over him. It was more like… Feeling like he didn’t matter, of maybe being interest enough to catch someone’s attention but lacking in keep them entertained. Which in turn made him petty, vindictive, clingy. It was only a matter of time before Martino would agree with those guys, and leave him for good.

Marti tapped Nico's skull, then, and said to his brain "Stop with this bullshit. Stop making my boyfriend suffer, you asshole. You know nothing, zero, zilch, nil, nada. You're worse than Jon Snow.” He bent down to kiss his heart, and went on with "You, on the other hand… You know Nico's the best thing that has ever happened to me and that I'd be a fool not to cherish it. So what if he’s got some flaws? Who cares? Not me. One thing matters and it’s this: no else compares. So yeah, tell him he shouldn't worry: I'm not going anywhere."

"Ever?" He mumbled, not quite ready to believe Martino.

"Kim Jong-un, Nico. Remember?"  Marti reminded him, smiling as he stroked his cheek.

"Right. How could I forget King-Kong-Là…" That made them both laugh, and they decided not to discuss the matter any further. They were far more pleasurable ways to spend their night together…

So yeah, screw them. Screw everyone who overanalyzes every little thing Niccolò does, who is always ready to point the finger at him and say that Martino deserves better.

Of course he does, duh. Better friends, for a start.

*********************** All due respect here... There's no respect due. So fuck you and you, and you and you. You're cool, but fuck you... And I'm out of here. (Swear Jar, Illy)

[gold-eyes-vengeful-heart]

Falling Stars

((Or: the end of the battle.

Continued from here. 

Contains 5.2 spoilers! Part 2 of a 2-part fic. More heavily features Sorin, belonging to @aetherstitch !))

===

Runya was shunted out of his own body so quickly that it was disorienting. And all the noise, all the screaming from Blue and the roars of the monster that had been hiding in the Ruby Weapon and the frantic dying calls of the enemy pilot as her mind was smashed like so much vilekin--all of it just stopped, replaced by an unfeeling darkness.

Damn it. This was a miscalculation, wasn’t it?

Without his body running rogue, panicking as Blue panicked, he could actually focus and with practiced, detached ease, took stock of what was going on. He recognized that feeling of disconnect--it was exactly the same as before, in the lab, whenever they tested him for resistance to mental control of all kinds. Not that they had ever intended for the reaction in question to be his mind getting cut off from his body (basically passing out without actually passing out), but it had been deemed more acceptable than, say, being brainwashed by a primal--

But that was beside the point. Blue had apparently tripped it, and so he was stuck here for the time being until Blue stopped rampaging.

And he was indeed very sure that Blue was rampaging. He got a single glimpse of Blue trying to crunch the not-Nael’s head off at the neck with his heavy jaws before he was...unceremoniously kicked out of Blue’s head, after all.

Great. Just great. And he could only hope that Blue didn’t lose his mind so thoroughly that he started trying to eat their...well, allies was a strong word for it, mind, but still, the thought remained.

(He had better not do anything to Sorin--)

But he also couldn’t do anything to him for doing anything to Sorin, either, could he? He was just a lone mind in the depths of total sensory deprivation--it was only through prior experience with the sensation was keeping him from going completely mad, and even then, he kept hallucinating on and off...

...Or were they hallucinations, really? Hallucinations involving burning cities and boiling oceans and endless arrays of comets falling from the sky and reaving everything below them with mindless destructive fury wasn’t generally something he saw in situations like this, after all. It made too much sense, for one.

He caught a glimpse, suddenly, of Blue crunching down on a smaller Nael-like creature before he was cut off yet again, and just for a moment, he started to chide Blue for that--he didn’t know where that thing had been--before realizing that oh, yes, Blue couldn’t hear him, still.

Gods above and hells below, he hated this interminable wait to get back into his own body. Floating about as just a mind was unpleasant, of course, but also infinitely boring, even with more than enough to think over with those...recent events. 

(What had that entire nonsense with the Nael-thing suddenly sprouting up out of the Ruby Weapon been? Last he understood, auracite did not do that, even the synthetic kinds that the Empire was fond of. And what exactly had they meant but uploading “combat data” into their Weapons, anyway? With what he knew of the Empire’s fondness for the most amoral option possible, he couldn’t help but think that they were trapping souls or brains or something equally disturbing inside machina.)

(...Why didn’t Blue operate like that, despite being a Weapon in and of himself? Even the Ultima Weapon hadn’t had anything uploaded but just been piloted.)

(Then again, even comparing Blue to the Ultima Weapon didn’t seem right. The Ultima Weapon and these other Weapons seemed powered by eating primals, and Blue...at least as far as he understood...wasn’t. Even the Allagan records that Sorin had borrowed from G’raha had been puzzled about the notion, so what was he really--?)

A pinprick of light appeared right in the middle of his field of vision and grew at a truly alarming rate. Finally, maybe Blue was going to stop panicking just long enough for him to get back into control--

He barely had regained consciousness before he was unceremoniously dumped right out of the cockpit and onto the ground with a heavy thump.

He yelped as it made his already-hurting body flare with even greater pain, and landing awkwardly on his back didn’t help that at all. “Blue, what in the name of--?!” But he didn’t get any answer; the Weapon’s response wordlessly slopped around his chest and it burned with still-high-strung exhaustion in a way that left him grabbing at his side. “Get back here!”

They were at the lake, he could see now, and he could also see Blue limping towards it. The armor at his side was still torn open but--was that crystal leaking from the gaps? It flowed like liquid but completely against gravity, coating the gaping hole and solidifying just as Blue started to sink beneath the water. 

“Blue, don’t run off from me.” He staggered back up to his feet, but the Weapon wasn’t listening and just dived. “Blue!”

But Blue sank completely and he had to dodge backwards a little to avoid the waves sent up by the Weapon’s dive. He drove his thoughts outward, pitching them like a spear at where Blue had disappeared to, but his attempt at contact was just as quickly rebuffed, and again, and again, as he tried fruitlessly to get Blue to talk to him, only to be met with glacial silence.

In fact, he barely even noticed the roar of Iron Sights’ machina approaching until it practically landed right on top of him.

--

Runya wasn’t looking at either of them, sitting with his arms crossed in the chair and pointedly staring at the ceiling of the tent instead of at the Roegadyn and other Miqo’te sitting across from him.

Sorin spoke again, not moving his stare an ilm off of him. “So you don’t know why he...did that?”

“I’ve told you already multiple times: no.” Runya’s voice, hoarse as it was, betrayed his tired annoyance with this whole interrogation, and he closed his eyes. “As far as I can tell, he simply panicked when that...thing popped out of the Ruby Weapon like a daisy and started flinging meteors everywhere. If you insist on knowing why he didn’t like it, I suggest you ask him yourself--if you’re even able to talk to him. He certainly won’t talk to me.”

“Runya...” Sorin audibly ran his hand down his face. “He shredded that thing.”

“Even people do strange things when they’re scared. I’m not sure why a Weapon would be any different.” His eyes suddenly snapped back open and locked onto Sorin’s. “And you mean to tell me that we just let those Au Ra go instead of, hmmm, shooting them or something actually intelligent? We could have put at least a temporary stop to this whole thing--”

“We were a bit distracted, Runya, with the angry thrashing Weapon nearby.”

Iron Sights suddenly sighed, though, with a clanking as she flopped back in her own seat. “Well, my Miqo’te compatriots, the point more is that we actually did stop that nasty thing, at least. Even if our big, ah, dragon friend didn’t appreciate being hit with a bunch of meteors by that absolute bitch--”

“Language, Roegadyn.”

Sights snapped her head over towards Runya fairly quickly, though, for that, raising a brow. “Uh huh. That’s probably the nicest thing I could call the...reincarnation?...of the arse that nearly killed the world. But anyway, I’m sure he’ll stop sulking eventually?”

“I have to agree.” Sorin did, however, sound a little reluctant on that point. “Though it’s alarming that he can run out of control so quickly even with a pilot as attuned to him as Runya.”

Sights shrugged one shoulder. “Yes, but even while he was looking at us like he was going to eat us, he didn’t, did he? Think he’s a bit more attached to you than you let on, Sorin.”

Runya, at that point, thought it prudent enough to interrupt. “Mad or not, he’s still an invaluable resource against these things. You told me yourself when you spoke about that confrontation between those Au Ra and dear Baelsar, Sorin my friend: there’s more than one, and I have no doubt that you won’t have long before we see the next. Especially if you didn’t simply kill the pilots while you had a chance.” He sat up, shoving down his own irritation and anger at the others for allowing such an escape and falling right back into his easy smirk. “Maybe watching all of his dear children getting mauled, their minds ripped out, and their bodies messily fused to death with Weapon cores might actually teach Legatus Baelsar some empathy?”

Sights grimaced, but Sorin shook his head vehemently. “Runya, don’t. There’s nothing to be enjoyed about such a fate.”

“Even that of an enemy?”

He just raised his brows at that, though. “Runya. I will not have this argument in circles for the rest of our lives. They need to be stopped, not tortured.”

“As you wish.” But when Runya waved a hand dismissively and got to his feet, Sorin bristled slightly. “But first we need to get Blue back to us. He took...some amount of damage in that last battle, and I’m afraid him lurking around at the bottom of the lake isn’t going to help him much.”

“...Alright.”

With that response, Runya finally got to his feet, though it was a slow and creaky sort of motion with how his entire everything still hurt from the activation earlier. (He had already gotten enough of a lecture on how silly that had been, though, so all Sorin did was raise his brows meaningfully at him and left it at that.) “Then if you’ll excuse me, I am going to nap. Then we can go visit him.”

And hopefully they hadn’t just traumatized him too badly to talk to them anymore. But there was only one way to find out, was there?

[gold-from-straw]

First Forever - Prologue

This is my fic for @fth2019fanworks! @soveryaverageme bid on me and asked for Cherik with emotional hurt/comfort and trust issues and THANK YOU SO MUCH because that is 100% my jam! I’ll be uploading every 3-4 days - this is the only chapter from Erik’s point of view, their first meeting. I hope you guys enjoy! (btw if anyone would like to be tagged in the next chapter, please leave a like or some form of interaction with this post lol!)

Read on Ao3 if you prefer!

Interview with Professor Charles Xavier

by Erik Lehnsherr

“The X-gene itself is a misnomer,” says Prof. Charles Xavier, discoverer of the X-gene.

The youthful professor sits back and crosses his legs, a self-deprecating smile creeping across his face. “I didn’t name it. Or - well, I did, but I named it the Late Stage Hox-Like Operon. Catchy, I know. But it was the media that dubbed it the X-gene.” He looks at me with a mildly reproachful gaze and I find myself ducking my head like a student asking for an extension.

Xavier smiles like he knows exactly what I’m thinking - which, of course, he does. Xavier is not only Oxford’s youngest PhD, Cornell’s youngest professor of genetics, and discoverer of the initial cause of what some would consider superpowers, but also an omega level telepath.

“Don’t forget five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award,” Xavier quotes dryly, startling a laugh out of me. But as well-versed as he is on the Harry Potter universe, Xavier is no Gilderoy Lockhart.

It’s when I ask him to explain the X-gene (excuse me, the Late Stage Hox-Like Operon), that Xavier’s eyes light up and he sits right forward, elbows on knees. “A single gene can’t possibly be responsible for the vast diversity of phenotypes we see in so-called mutants today. Of course, every feature that makes humanity different to single-celled organisms can be traced back to a chance mutation that helped the organism to survive and reproduce - or at least didn’t hinder it. But the LSH operon is different.”

He launches into his lecture on advanced genetics, explaining complex concepts in simple enough terms that even a journalist can understand, while somehow never quite steering into the realms of too patronising. It’s clear this is a talk he’s given many times before, and yet his enthusiasm for it is infectious, the famous baby blue eyes sparkling.

“There’s still so much we don’t know about the mechanisms of the LSH operon activation, but what we do know is that it’s epigenetic and heritable. In this context, that means it’s triggered in young people with no family history of ‘mutations’,” here he forms air quotes to show his reluctant acceptance of the public’s limited use for such a broad term. “And it’s always triggered under extreme stress. Once triggered, it’s likely that the LSH operon will be passed down to their future children already active.

“The features that express themselves then depend partly on the stressors a person is experiencing. A young person trying to escape a burning building, for example, may develop teleportation, invulnerability, ice powers or a body that can withstand and even produce fire itself. Which one of these exactly depends on the downstream genes and operons the LSH transcription products reach first.”

He catches sight of the time and almost seems embarrassed. “There’s much work still to be done. But that’s what’s so wonderful about it.”

I ask him how he developed his telepathy, what his ‘specific stressors’ were to cause such a powerful mutation in one so young (Xavier was registered soon after his seventh birthday). The question seems to cause him to sit back, though it doesn’t wipe the smile off his face. “You’re asking about the most stressful time in a child’s life - as a mutant yourself you should know how intrusive that question is.”

Just before our time runs out, I try to reclaim the strands of the conversation - as if control had ever been in my hands. What would he say, I wonder, to all those who claim that mutants have an unfair advantage?

The fire is back behind his eyes almost immediately but the ever present smile is polite, almost misleadingly so. “Privilege comes in many forms,” he says. “As a cis white man born into a wealthy family, I have way more than most. But I notice there’s no sudden public outcry about any of those old inequalities.” He leans forward once more. “The LSH operon is, as far as we can tell, entirely random. It is as likely to activate in a rich white man in America as it is in a Syrian refugee trying to get her family to safety, a wealthy woman from Dubai or a middle class transgender man in Nigeria. Like much of biology it doesn’t discriminate, it equalises. Perhaps the rest of society should follow its lead.”

[lswritingdesk]

3. Fragment

I apologise for there being no rhyme or reason to me uploading these fics. I have a number of them- 13 installments as of me posting this one. I should post them on a more regular basis, but I haven’t really been getting on my computer as much recently. I will strive to post more regularly. Thank you to those of you reading and interacting!

Daniel Jackson makes his first real appearance! Hooray!

-

In the freezing season of her Twenty-third Cycle, Kyrie woke suddenly in the middle of the night. She had been living in a small flat of the Maren City Cube for three years now, ever since she had graduated from the College of Statics and joined the Rata Pten Krewe. She had been assigned to study the ancient City along with a team of eleven others, and she and her family had been thrilled with the assignment.

After half an hour had passed and she did not fall back asleep, Kyrie turned off the sound machine that mimicked the sound of the ocean- she would always need the sound of the ocean to fall asleep- and softly padded through her small flat. She wrapped her robe tighter around her and looked into her little garden that was dormant with the season. Something flickered in her mind. She stood there quietly and waited for the flicker to grow into something that she could grab onto.

A vision of a lush garden grew in her mind, and she remembered the Dreamscape that she had not dreamt of since she was in her Thirteenth Cycle and newly out of the Fragment. Something tugged in her chest, and she knew it was the Fragment calling out to her. She didn’t know if she should go now or in the morning. Surely there was a Tender at the Fragment at all times, but she didn’t know if her pass would work at the teleporter. 

Kyrie put on another layer of clothing and went out into the frozen garden and sat on the bench to meditate. She called up the Dreamscape, entering it as easily as if she had been entering it every day since she was in her Thirteenth Cycle. She walked around the lush garden, touching the plants that burst with life, the total opposite of the garden her physical body sat in. The man was there, the one that had been in her visions. He sat on a bench under a tree on the other side of the garden, his back to her. She knew better than to call out. She tried to walk towards him, but the distance between them only seemed to grow. She grew frustrated and eventually gave up, sitting on a bench of her own and staring at his back, willing him to turn around and look at her. A part of her understood that she would not be able to reach him until she entered the Fragment, so she let go of the Dreamscape and her meditation and woke up, her body stiff from the cold. 

She went inside and pulled up the holoscreen, regretting the time, but knowing it was necessary. Kyrie placed the call to Elder Rhea and waited for it to go through. It took some time, but finally the Elder stood before her on the screen, waiting for an explanation from the younger woman.

“The Fragment is calling me. I cannot reach the man in my Dreamscape until I go into it. I tried for some time to reach him, but it was impossible.”

“Then your time has come. A Tender will be waiting for you. I will ensure that your pass will let you use the teleporter. May the Eternal Alchemy guide you.” The screen clicked off. Kyrie didn’t know what else she was expecting, but she was expecting a little more than that from the Elder. She went into her room to change into her winter Seers’ robes, and then she made her way to the teleporters. True to her word, Elder Rhea had made sure her pass would work, and Kyrie found herself in the Fragment grove under the light of a half moon.

A Tender in thick robes of their own met her at the teleporter and led her to the entry of the Fragment. “Kyrie, of House Tethyos, are you ready to enter the Fragment and see your vision?”

“Yes, Tender, I am.”

“Then enter and meet your truth.” 

Kyrie entered the trees, but this time, there were no purple stars. She did not fall into a golden orb of light. She walked into a lecture hall. The man was at the bottom giving a lecture, and though she could not hear him, she could see that the lecture was going poorly. People were shaking their heads. Some even got up and left. The man was growing visibly flustered and frustrated. Finally, someone in the front row got up and beseeched him to quit. He looked so sad as he gathered up his materials and left the lecture hall out the side door. When the scene did not change, Kyrie realised that she was to hurry after him.

The man walked down the hall and down a set of stairs into the basement of the building, and Kyrie rushed after him, her footsteps the only sound in the silence. She slid into the room the man entered just moments before he slammed the door. She looked around in awe at all of the books and scrolls and objects that decorated the room as the man sat down in defeat, his head in his hands. He sighed, and Kyrie sighed on his behalf. She didn’t like how that lecture hall had treated him. His head shot up, and he stared right at her. Kyrie froze, realising that sound had returned to the world, that this man had heard her sigh and was now staring at her.

“Who the hell are you?” the man asked, staring at the strangely dressed woman who had all but beamed into his office. He had not seen her enter, nor had he seen her in there when he had entered. How had she gotten in?

“You can see me? And hear me?” Kyrie asked, incredulously. She waved a hand in front of his face, then snatched it back when he attempted to grab or swat it, maybe both.

“Yes, and I want to know who you are and how you got into my office, because you weren’t in here when I came in, and I did not let you in myself.” Kyrie’s stomach dropped.

“I’m in the Fragment,” she responded, as if that were an answer. 

“The what?”

“I’m not really here, in your office. I’m...I’m in the Fragment. It’s an ancient anomaly on another planet that we Seers enter to see visions to help guide us…” Kyrie realised how insane she must sound to this man. She switched tactics. “What is your name?”

“You’re on another planet?” The man caught on this tidbit that she had let slide.

“Uh,” Kyrie began, but she was cut off.

“I must surely be losing it now. They probably sent you in here as a joke to mess with me after the disaster that was that lecture. I’m the laughingstock of the academic community now. So what planet are you from? Mars? Jupiter?”

“Illyria,” Kyrie said softly. “And you aren’t crazy, just...misunderstood. The right people are waiting just around the corner for you, I promise. They will hear your lecture and know the truth.” The man barked out a harsh laugh.

“And you know that how?”

Kyrie straightened. “I’m a Seer. It’s my job to watch the Timelines.” She said this importantly, like she had seen this man’s Timeline, when in reality she was just as in the dark as him. But something inside of her was telling her that she had to encourage this man right now. She had to keep him going. 

“If you’ve supposedly seen my Timeline, then why don’t you know my name?” Kyrie winced. He had caught her. 

“You are my first...assignment. I woke up in the dead of the night and felt the pull to enter the Fragment. I know this doesn’t make sense to you now, but one day it will,” she rushed out, trying to make sense of this for herself so she could make sense of it for him. “The Fragment shows Seers visions so that we can guide others to make important decisions. And it guided me here to you, so I can only guess that I am here to encourage you not to quit. I saw the lecture. I don’t know what it was about, but I know it went badly and that you subsequently are ready to give up, but you can’t. Not yet. As I said before, the right people will hear your story soon, and they will bring you to the right path. I am merely a conduit.” The man sighed.

“I’ll be forced out of this institution shortly, I know it. After that lecture, it’s only a matter of time. I can’t hang on for much longer.”

“Then the answer that we’re both waiting for is surely coming soon.”

“You sure have a lot of faith in something you aren’t sure of.” 

“The Eternal Alchemy leads us all to the right path in the end. It may not be the path we were looking for, but it is the right path.”

“The Eternal Alchemy?”

“My belief system.” Kyrie could feel herself fading. “I don’t have much time left here. Please believe that this was real. Believe in yourself. And before I go...what is your name?”

“Daniel. Daniel Jackson. And who are you?” Before she could answer, Kyrie faded from the room.

Kyrie’s name died on her lips as she materialised on the edge of the Fragment’s grove. Thankfully she was not staggering or bleeding this time. It was mid-morning. Apparently time did not pass the same way while one was in the Fragment as it did in the real world. Elder Rhea stood some feet away with the Tender, watching gravely as Kyrie left the shelter of the trees.

“You’ve been gone for over a day,” Elder Rhea commented mildly. Kyrie shook her head.

“Have you been waiting all this time?”

“No, the Tenders know when someone is close to coming out. The Fragment...makes it known. They let me know you were due soon, and I came along. Did you make contact?”

“Yes. And I think I’ll be able to contact him in my Dreamscape now. I know his name now.”

“You must stay veiled in your Dreamscape, just so you know.”

“I understand.”

“It is up to you how you bring the Tau’ri here. There will be very few rules or guidance, as this was given to you by the Fragment. But you will abide by Community rules as they apply.”

“Yes, Elder Rhea.”

“You will be fine. You will be just fine.”

--

@heathenterkin​ @luckyninetales @logicheartsoul​ @sky-of-starflowers​ @kirazalea​ @star-fish23

[raccoon-james]

Midnight guest

Pairing: Billy Bennet x Reader 

Words: 2522 

Universe: Deadly Class syfy 

Requested: Yes 

Summary: The reader has an unexpected guest in the middle of the night. 

Warnings: kinda bad writing I guess? 

A/N: As you can see, I’ve finally uploaded my work! It’s my first published fic, but I thought it’s good enough to show it to you guys. English is not my native language so I’m sorry for every grammar/language/spelling mistake I had made while writing it. Also, it’d be nice to receive some feedback, some pieces of advice – please leave a comment or sth. It’s very helpful and motivates me to write more.

                                                      ●○۞○●

Nights at King's Dominion contrasted with the school in the daylight. Relative calm seemed to return to school halls every time when sun comes down. No noises, no running or fighting - no whatever-made-pupils’-daily-rutine. With sun held up, high at the sky, the school was bustling with life, but with the moment of sun disappearing time seemed to slow down immediately.

Sitting in the room with the door closed, you could easily feel cut off from that little world you have lived for some time. It wasn't hard to feel lonely sometimes. All you had to do then was talk to your roommate, or sneak out to meet friends living in another room. If you wanted peace and silence it was enough to not speak to anyone, play music and take care of whatever had to be done - like homework or makeup.

You liked nights here. Somehow you managed to get a small single room, which was a godsent for you, someone who enjoys being on their own, and the lack of unexpected guests was a guarantee of a successful night. It gave you a feeling of control. You could choose when you wanted company or not; if you wanted some time by yourself, you just stayed in your bedroom. That kind of control was enough to make up for many things, that the legacy status had taken from you. People think if you have a high position in the walk of life then it's easier to live. Bullshit. Why is no one speaking about the expectations everyone suddenly has for you? That you have to be the best, never miss a bit in a fight, never hesitate to pull the trigger, to know all poisons at the back of your hand. And what if you simply cannot live up to the expectations? That's when the lynch starts. "She? I can't believe..." "You're so not what I expected" "The shame of our family"... People pick you clean, then go to work on the bones.

It was couple minutes before midnight and the only audible sounds were your breath, pen writing something down on a sheet of paper and the turning of pages of numerous books surrounding you. Tirelessly you've been repeating materials for the “fundamentals of psychopathy” class. It was interesting, specific but exceptionally enjoyable.

The conception of motive that you had focused on this night was far more addictive than you could imagine. For you it was like digging in someone else's brain. Coming to the conclusions about the killer’s personality based on his actions - adding the way of killing, some repeated patterns and you can compile information about their past, present...the top of the top in this field can speculate - based on tiny details found at the crime scene – about the traumas and habits of the criminal.

The cracking of the door interrupted your flow. While studying in a school for assassins, unannounced visits after midnight don't bode well. In any moment then you could find yourself stabbed or with broken arm, your position meant nothing. Everyone could become a target, from children of the heads of state, through mafia bosses, to the average street rats.

With daggers, the fight technique you have been training for several years, you almost never part with, always keeping them within reach. That was the main reason why you grabbed the weapon so quickly.

Ready to defend yourself, you turned towards the door, no longer sitting but standing. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, ready to fend off the attacker.

"Y/N, put the dagger down" said Billy closing the door, in the tone of someone who's welcomed by people ready to slit his throat at least three times every day.

"Uh, I don’t know, I like it... Brings out the color of my eyes, dontcha think?" you said relaxing a bit. You fliped the dagger that made a full rotation in the air and than came back to your hand, that fist on the handle again. Pretty easy trick but always impressing Billy - until one day you'd be very unlucky and loose a hand while catching the blade.

"So, what's the matter?" you asked putting down the dagger. You tossed it on opened notebook on your desk. It was obvious that the studying session is over for you, at least for that night.

"You better tell me, huh?" said the teenager seemingly upset, pointing out to a half-packed suitcase on the floor. Shit... You promised yourself to tell him about you leaving right before They come to take you, which would be about 7 am, definitely not midnight! For all intents and purposes you didn't even know who or where was supposed to take you by tomorrow morning. All you knew was that your parents admittedly, may have overplayed your hand a little. You were a kid after all, a student who'd rather stay up late studying killers’ minds than actually becoming one. Still, have you ever had any other options but learning how to live under direct orders of your family?

"I'm leaving...for some time" you mumbled averting your eyes.

"And what? You...you didn't want me to know? Just leave?" he started, and by that moment you realized what was going to happen. It was going to be a bloody long lecture about your incompetence as a very best friend, as a main theme.

You haven't completely got used to the relation between you and green-haired Billy Bennett. Since your connections with other people were built on viable alliances, and because your loyalty twords them was like loyalty of an average whore from the brothel, you haven’t had many friends. All that had to happen was an extremely unlucky incident, a broken nose and slippery wooden stairs, for you to make some changes in your social life. That was how you met Billy.

"Could you once in your life shut the hell up, maybe?" you stopped his speech before he got a chance to get started with it, slowly looking up at him. He shut his lips and tilted his head a little, raising his eyebrows, noticably surprised with your reaction. You sigh heavily, running your fingers through your hair, wondering what you actually wanted to say when you stopped him. Or was that only self-defense because you didn't want to hear him whine about how bad you really are.

"Y/N..."

"No" you cut him off again. Tiredness that studying drew away, now started to slowly overtake you. "I seriously wanted to tell you but..."

"But when I couldn't do shit about it, right?" he snarled looking little piqued.

"It's not always about you" you hummed staring at your white socks "I don't even know what they want me to do. I received a letter saying I have to pack up and be ready to go at 7 am in the morning. Nothing more. No greetings, how are you or a fuckin hello. It doesn't matter if I told you about this crappy trip today or tomorrow morning, you can't do shit about it.  I can't disobey direct orders" you managed to keep your tone serious. You glanced at the rat, still standing near the door. It could be harder for him without you at hand but come on! He could handle it before, so why the hell would anything change now?

Before you had the chance to think about anything else, Billy was standing next to you, embracing you all of the sudden. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, gently rubbing your arm. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his. You sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the room warmer somehow, your future within its walls seeming a little less bleak. Still, you were confused after that sudden display of benevolence coming from Billy. Your body was tense, ready to attack. It took you a moment to edge off but when you did it, you returned the hug.

You liked Billy. He was like cat. Not a fluffy kitty, pretty as a picture but homeless, a bit scraggly and scrawny with unbelievably stunning eyes. These cats you want to take with you even if they aren't drawn to you. And honestly you'd never thought, till this moment, that leaving the cat would be so damn hard. Stupid Billy... Why on earth did he hug you? It was clear now why you had avoided profuse goodbyes all your life. It was so much easier to leave not realizing what's left behind you, because without "goodbye" it feels like you'd never really left. You spared yourself the heartbreaking pain and feeling of  loneliness, that goes hand in hand with every long-term goodbye.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" you mumbled into Billy's t-shirt, hoping your voice wouldn't crack and reveal how devastated you started to feel with every passing second. You used to keep a stiff upper lip, but now it's harder, apparently.

He stepped back at the length of an extended arm and grinned as only he could, which warmed your heart.

"Sleep? I guess..." he answered slightly shrugging his shoulders.

You smirked wrinkling the bridge of your nose, waited for a moment just squinting at him and than turned on your heel so you can walk over to a nightstand and reach the alarm clock.

"I'm not sayin' now, right? But what else would I do at this hour, haha..." Billy muttered while staring at you, tracking all your movements when you were setting an alarm for 6;30 am. You mumbled something like "mhm" putting the device where it was before.

Bennett once again was like a torrent, an unbelievable flow of words which wasn't exactly what you needed right now. Soon it would be half past one, your mind has told you that six hours of sleep is definitely not enough for you to be full of energy by tomorrow morning. Billy was concerned with your actions but didn't ask any questions, hoping you'd tell him what was on your mind. What the hell were you trying to do? Well, you wanted to turn off the only light in the room which was the lamp on your desk buried in books and notes. And when you did it, complete darkness surrounded both of you.

Billy was ready to ask question about what the fuck you were doing. He raised his arm, opened his mouth but that instant you grabbed his raised wrist

"Come" you whispered, dragging him to bed.

"Wha...No! Y/N what the fuck?" he squealed, acting like he didn't want to go with you, yet somehow his body didn't fight back and let you sit him on the bed, so his behavior didn't match the words he was saying at all.

"God...I don't want to bang you man!" you rolled your eyes lying down on the mattress "I had already packed my emotional support teddy bear. How do you think I'm gonna fall asleep now, hm?" you were kinda joking, but kinda not - it was true you had packed your stuffed animals but it didn't really have any influence on your ability to sleep well. You just wanted Billy around, even though you haven't thought about it earlier. The boy widened his eyes on you or at least the darker spot on the bed that should be you. Pretty hard to see anything without any source of light.

"You're still sleeping with a teddy bear? What are you? Twelve?" he laughed. Not exactly laughed, more like attempt to laugh. He was cut off with a cold blade of the dagger near his throat, the best way to silence him in your opinion.

"Say a single word about it and you're gonna end up stuffed just like that teddy bear" you hissed not anymore laying on the bed

"Jesus, how many of them do you have here?" whined Bennett moving away the blade. You couldn't help admiring his ability to stay so chilled and cool with your threats. It was really impressive. Something (the dagger) landed on the floor as evidenced by the hollow metallic sound going with the sound of a laying back body.

"But waking up so early...I don't know..." boy was still whining around while taking his shoes off.

"I'll do my best to not wake you" you said calmly waiting for him to lay near you. To be honest you had never ever slept with him. Sure you had laid down together, sometimes even he managed to take a quick nap but you never lowered your guard.

Billy tried to lie down comfortably but it was hard since it was single bed, not exactly what two people need to sleep together. Your back was slightly touching the wall against the bed, sticking to the boys body, hoping it would compensate for the lack of the bedsheets. You were actually lying on one but it was pretty warm already so it wasn't necessary. With your arms around his neck and a leg over his belly you breathed softly into his hair. You know you should have found it adorable but after all you liked your space. Still you couldn't resist it since you haven't got any idea when you would meet him again. You weren't really much of a hugger when it comes to people,  but liked teddy bears as a kid and it you stuck with till now.

Time was passing and the feeling of tiredness disappeared, leaving you on standby mode exactly the same that you were on while being on a lookout. Just like someone if was about to burst into your room now and attack both of you. You haven't locked the door, it was haunting you now but you didn't want to move, scared it would wake Billy up. He was probably asleep by then. You could tell by the regular deep breaths and silence.

With your right hand, you reached for the boys head. For a couple of minutes, you were playing with his short green hair tangling them between your fingers until you would get tired again. That relaxing activity, it made it inevitable for unpleasant thoughts to come across your mind no matter if you were or were not prepared for them. Obviously, you weren't.

Was it possible for you to come back to school in one piece? Who would protect Billy from getting in trouble during your absence? Would you have a telephone wherever you were going, to call Billy here every evening or at least once a week?

It was mind-blowing for you since you have never, ever had problems like that! But also you never had a friend like Billy to make your life more complicated than it already is. Master Lin was right when he said that when you have someone who you would die for, sooner or later things were going to get messed up...

The red numbers on the screen of the clock showed five minutes after one a.m. when you finally dozed off.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 6. Argus Limited

This is a re-posting from Oct. 27th, 2018 in an effort to get all my recaps fully on tumblr. Thanks!

Volume Six is here, folks! I am so very, stupidly excited for this season. Heartfelt thanks go out to my friend who was all, “lol yeah sure” when I begged to use their FIRST account to watch. There are heroes in this world and they’re one of them.

A quick note about recaps from here on out: they will (my productivity willing) be uploaded sometime on Thursday or Friday proceeding the new episode. This is partly so that I’m not scrambling to post immediately afterwards—stress and bad writing all around—and partly so that, you know, we can actually recap stuff before the next episode airs. So yeah, that’s the goal.

Let’s do it!

We open on a gorgeous, snowy scene with ROOSTER TEETH PRESENTS smack dab in the middle. You know that feeling you get when you hear the Harry Potter theme at the beginning of a new film and the whole theater loses their shit? Same with Doctor Who and Star Wars? Whatever your preferred fandom, the point is I get the same chills when RWBY comes back and it’s excellent.

The animation really is gorgeous though and I sigh happily whenever I see it, thinking back to the days when cookies disappeared directly into Ruby’s mouth. There’s nostalgia, sure, but it doesn’t beat this detail.

We hear the distant sound of a train and then we’re thrown into exactly what we’ve wanted for literal years now: Team RWBY back together again, fighting not creepy adults but just some good, old fashioned grimm. They’re chimeras and… griffins? Ngl I’m not entirely sure, but they’re big, flying, fire-breathing nasties, so that’s really all we need to know. Luckily everyone falls back into old habits, easily supporting one another and executing perfect attacks (a contrast to the residual tension we’ll see in just a bit). Ruby is so busy posing after a successful kill that she misses the grimm coming at her from behind. Weiss saves her ass with a cheeky, “Thank me later!” At the end of the fight we get a reversal wherein a hit nearly sends Weiss tumbling off the side of the train, though Ruby grabs her at the last second with her own, “Thank me later!” It’s a fun little exchange made better when we think back to the Vytal Tournament. Weiss still “had her back” then too, but was more resistant to Ruby’s proclamation that they’re BFFs. Now the teasing is on both ends.

Notably, Ruby saves Weiss by taking her into her semblance, creating a cloud of rose petals that are half red, half white. Now combined with the old team-ups and some shots in the new opening, this has led a number of fans (myself included) to wonder if a WhiteRose pairing is in our future. Which also means that the ship wars are in full swing. Needless to say I’m not about that nonsense and I’ll only point out here what I said episodes back: if it’s a queer relationship with one of our main girls, and not a random side character who was previously out to murder a whole family? I’m on board.

Back in the fight though. The rest of team RNJR appears with Nora exclaiming, “Why is it always something?” God that’s a mood. Welcome to adulthood, kid. It’s just one crisis after another—except in your case the crises are objectively more dangerous. Sorry about that. We get to see Jaune’s improved reflexes as he fends off all the fireballs with his shield while Ren and Nora team up to knock some of the monsters out.

Honestly, I love this trope in action stories. Where—as Nora does here—a character just shouts out a friend’s name to get their attention and they immediately know what kind of move they’re about to pull off. It’s made more hilarious to me given that RWBY once had attack names and Jaune at least made the attempt with JNPR...but apparently they're not needed anymore. So unrealistic, yet so very cool when used.

So yeah, things are going pretty smoothly… up until Oscar yells out “Tunnel!” Ruby saves Weiss from falling, they manage to get over or between the cars, and in the sudden darkness we transition to what we only realize later is a flashback. At least, I didn’t realize it until later. Totally thought we’d had a time skip and they were just hopping another train…

My stupidity aside, before we hit the train station we actually see a familiar hallway filled with angry voices discussing the disaster at Haven—one of which is Adam’s. I really enjoyed this technique, wherein we slowly pan across the room as the voices grow more frantic and the sounds of fighting break out, the camera revealing bodies scattered across the floor. By the time we reach the throne—and Adam on it— we realize that the fight occurred prior to this moment, something that Adam is now remembering. He goes all skyward scream on us as he howls menacingly. Okay, dude. Compared to Cinder and Salem you’re really not all that.

Now we’re at the train station where Qrow is narrating a letter to Ironwood. Hell yes, please bring back the badass, protective Ironwood who defended the students at Beacon and stood up for Weiss. I’d be very pleased if he joins the RWBY gang by the Volume’s end. Qrow’s optimistic about the trip—they’ve plans to reach Ironwood before the letter does, which says either good things about Remnant’s transportation or bad things about its mail—though of course we as the audience know it’s not going to be nearly that simple. We learn that only two weeks have passed since the battle, but people are still reeling from all the implications. Lionheart tragically lost his life defending the school and oh, some students coincidentally were there and did some stuff. Excellent choice in showing us the mindless crowds while we hear this, the naive masses who, yes, would absolutely believe a story like this.

It’s easy to criticize no one supposedly noticing Salem, magic, the finger Ozpin has in every pie, etc. but ultimately people believe what they’re told—especially when it’s much easier to swallow than the truth.

Enough of the doom and gloom though. Ruby is having the time of her life.

Qrow: “What’s with the running?”

Ruby: “What’s with the standing?!”

I love this girl so very much and it’s wonderful when we get to see her acting like the kid she is. She uses her semblance with abandon because yeah, if I could turn into rose petals I’d be doing that all the time too. Ruby teases Yang with something from the gift shop and I really hope we get to see what that is. Yes, we end the episode with everyone left stranded in the wilderness, but if Yang’s bike can survive then so can Ruby’s souvenirs.

(Seriously though they presumably lost all their luggage that sucks.)

Everyone else is in top, feel-good form too. Nora daydreams about hitting the beach, complete with a thought bubble of topless Ren and a beachball. Weiss quips about how she spent all last Volume getting out of Atlas, thanks, but Ruby reassures her that at least she’s back with the team now. When two jokers arrive boasting about how they’ll be the ones keeping the train safe from grimm, Ruby and Yang act exactly as nieces should when your cool uncle is telling them off. AKA, making fun of them behind his back.

God they must have been terrors as toddlers. I mean we already know Yang carted Ruby off into the woods one day so yeah, I’m pretty confident in expressing my surprise that Tai doesn’t have a full head of gray hair.

The two Nice Guys go on to specify that they’ll provide extra protection for a “generous tip,” which—while essentially a throwaway line—reminds us how most of the world functions outside of our close-knit cast. Money, and more specifically Schnee money, quite literally dictates who lives and who dies. Not everything about RWBY is fantasy oriented…

We learn that everyone is just waiting on Blake— “as usual”—and we cut to her with Ilia as the two of them say their goodbyes. Ilia will be helping Ghira lead the Faunus in a “new movement” and is supposedly 100% on the straight and narrow now. Cool? I guess? To be honest I’m fine with her taking a back seat for this Volume. There’s a moment where we get a shot of Ilia and Blake’s feet, the former’s angled forward in a classic kiss pose, and I was super glad to see that they were just sharing a hug. I really don’t want the first LGBTQIA kiss on RWBY to be iffy on consent, considering that Ilia knows Blake isn’t interested. Hug though? That was super sweet.

Sun and Neptune show up to say their goodbyes too. They’re heading to Vacuo to meet up with the rest of their team because, in Sun’s words, he’s the “worst leader” ever. You kinda are, dude? I loved Sun up until they had him following Blake without her permission and continuing to do so after she asked for space, all in the name of the guy supposedly knowing what the girl really needs. The reminder that Sun abandoned his team to do this just reinforces how much I dislike that plot-line.

Sun gets the kiss—on the cheek—and after leaving Neptune lectures him on “letting [Blake] go.” Except it’s not about you? Blake is off to quite literally save the world and the fact that these guys view that as a threat to any potential relationship is… icky. Ugh. Oh well. They’re presumably gonna be offscreen for a while.

The train finally arrives and everyone piles in. We’re back to bunk beds! And of course Team RWBY is situated exactly as they were in Beacon’s dorms. Weiss gets annoyed with Ruby’s cloak hanging down over the side. Blake has a book in her lap. Ruby challenges Yang to a video game. Cue nostalgia. I fully expect fluffy AU fics where they ride the train all the way to Atlas and treat the trip as one giant, dramatic sleepover. This is non-negotiable.

Tension seeps back in though when Yang moves to pull her luggage from the rack and Blake immediately hops up to help her. In a super guilty “I know I fucked up and now I’m gonna smother you” way. Really excellent voice acting here. Yang ends up reassuring her. No, things aren’t perfect between them yet… but they’re definitely improving.

While short, for me this scene was perfectly balanced between acknowledging the girls’ complicated relationship without totally undermining the happy mood. Nicely done.

Then Qrow shows up with a drink. A drink with a slice of orange on the side. I have never enjoyed a moment more and I was so surprised I didn't take a screenshot of it. Clearly I was too distracted and am I too lazy to go back for one now? You betcha. The point is everything is fine, dandy, and filled with alcohol.

So of course RT goes and ruins it for me. Something hits the train and in a split second everyone is on high alert. A quick peek out the window reveals grimm and Blake mutters darkly that it’s “just my luck.”

Qrow: “Not yours.”

Are they gonna leave the safety of the train to those bozos from before? Hell no. Especially when one guy is grabbed right when the fight starts. I mean, poor dude, but he also kinda sucked as a Huntsmen. He wouldn’t have even made it past Beacon’s initiation, let alone graduated.

…I guess he’s kind of like early Jaune? Useless, wannabe hero who acts more confident than he actually is? Aw, now I really do feel bad.

He’s grimm food though. Gotta move on with our lives.

The other dude isn’t doing too well either, though RWBY and NJR + Oscar quickly show up, coming full circle to where we began the episode. Oscar insists that he’s got this fight under control which tells me (hopefully) that in the past two weeks they’ve had serious conversations about if and when Ozpin gets to have control. That’s super great, though I do wish we could have seen it. Flashbacks, maybe?

As the fight begins Ruby announces that the plan amounts to “don’t let anyone else die.” Uh...Ruby? Buddy. Pal. This is why people die. Because they didn’t have plans! Pyrrha—god rest her reckless soul—went off after a freaking Maiden by herself. Jaune got Amber killed because he didn’t obey the plan of watching the door. Lionheart frantically calls Salem with no real plan for what he’s going to offer her in exchange for his life! Plans are important, Ruby. You’re the team strategist. It was a badass line, I grant you, but please do not.

Luckily, no one (else) dies. That would have been pretty brutal for a premier. +1 point for world building where we see that trains like this have built in defenses to fight off grimm. -2 points for how useless it ends up being. As Qrow quickly points out, the turrets are drawing all the grimm to the front of the train where the passengers are. So, not good. Oscar is charged with telling the surviving goon to knock it off already while Qrow faces off against the super fierce chimera grimm. Not gonna lie though, when its tail first started up I thought Qrow was getting attacked by a dove…

This time when we hit the tunnel everyone makes it back safely inside with the exception of Goon #2 who gets his arm injured in the scramble. He’s literally crying on the ground when, in a pretty harsh move, Qrow drags him up and demands to know what the hell all that was. Civility and benefit of the doubt? Not Qrow’s strong points. It allows Ruby to take control of the situation though. How do you make sure that your cast of kids is continually calling the shots?  A) isolate them and B) when you can’t do that have the adults act like children instead. We see that a fair bit in RWBY.  

Jaune steps in to heal the guy’s arm, which is an unexpected surprise. I honestly thought we'd get a whole Volume’s worth of him figuring out how to access and control his semblance, though I suppose once it manifests you’ve got the basics down. We’ve seen that semblances can be improved upon—Ruby turning other people she carries into petals; Ren dampening the emotions of a whole train—so presumably Jaune will be able to heal more complex and life-threatening things in the future. We also hear in the ensuing conversation that he can amplify someone else’s aura…to be decided what exactly that means, how it connects to healing, and what the limits of the skill is.

During some theorizing about the attack Ozpin brings up that grimm are attracted to the relic they’re carrying and… oh boy. Here we go. Is it tradition that every recap the fandom goes for Ozpin’s throat while I stand here defending him? Might be. Let’s create a (semi) comprehensive list:

This might have been less of a secret and more of a slip. The guy is thousands of years old and the forces they’re dealing with are stupidly complicated. He can’t info dump every detail of a multi-century war in one sitting. So—

He might have thought this was one of those innocuous things that shouldn’t take precedent right now. Not the sort of thing he needs to worry them with. He claims in the promo that he didn't lie to the group and he quite possibly didn't. There's a big difference between lying and not telling someone every single possible thing that might be pertinent. Especially when—

We know that grimm are already attracted to people/negative emotion and they’re sequestered within a whole train full of presumably stressed travelers. There’s no reason to think the artifact would put them in more danger than they already are and therefore isn't at the top of the list of revelations to dole out. Especially with—

Qrow and his bad luck semblance. He literally just implied that the grimm were there because of him. There’s a reason he didn’t want Ruby near him during the fight with Tyrian and now they’re all stuck together in close quarters. The grimm were coming anyway. Even if we didn't have Qrow's semblance and big crowds we can also assume as much because of—

Those turrets. They weren’t there for a fashion statement. The whole train was crazy armored. They’re clearly very used to getting attacked on this route. It's a normal thing.

All of which is to say that the relic is one of MANY reasons why they might have gotten a buttload of grimm on their tail. Ozpin mentions this as one possibility in a very “Here’s something else to consider” way and everyone (characters and fandom alike) jump on him like he’s solely responsible for this predicament. Besides, what would they have done differently? Not carry the relic? That’s not an option. Be more on guard? They’re already constantly on guard. None of their actions would have changed had they known.

Really though, it’s the keeping of secrets that people are mad about, not necessarily what the secret is. So if we ignore the possibility above that Ozpin legit didn’t think this was worth mentioning/even forgot about it, we have a) he withheld the information because it might have made them wary about traveling with others, but they need to get to Atlas as fast as possible and the train is the best way to do that. So yeah, that’s a possible change, though I agree with Ozpin’s theoretical logic here. It was worth the risk.

b) he didn’t tell them because—again—worry is a negative emotion and that might have just doubled their problem. Awful as it is, knowing you're carrying a thing that might attract more grimm is one of the best ways to make sure that you do, in fact, attract them. Knowing what the relic does is dangerous. 

c) he doesn’t trust them with all the information about these super powerful relics that are going to decide the fate of their world. Which honestly? Kind of fair. Yeah, I know he promised them no more secrets, but this is a centuries old, god-like entity making a promise to a child. It’s not even really a matter of trust anymore. We’ve got a core group of nine here and everyone has someone else they’re close to. Ruby isn’t going to keep secrets from Tai. Blake will probably fill Sun in when she sees him again. Weiss is close to her sister. Etc. In short, as soon as this many people know a secret it isn't a secret anymore. Ozpin is no doubt aware that anything he tells to their now massive group is fair game and he has to carefully consider what he wants to risk going public/landing in Salem's hands. A general doesn't tell every lieutenant the details of every plan. That's a good way to lose the war. Fate of the world vs. a promise made to Yang? C’mon. There are priorities here.

d) finally, we’ve seen evidence—particularly after the iconic food fight—that Ozpin desperately wants his students to be kids as long as they can. He might keep information to himself simply because he doesn’t want to burden them. And given all the reasons listed above for why they'd be dealing with grimm anyway, what's the harm in giving them what little peace he can? It's not perfect reasoning and if this is the case the others have a right to be annoyed, but it's understandable. It certainly doesn't make Ozpin the monster I see countless posts painting him as.

Plus, Yang? I’m not sure you have the right to get indignant about keeping secrets right now. Granted, there’s some ambiguity surrounding whether she’s mentioned Raven as the Spring Maiden, but regardless we haven’t seen any evidence that she’s told the group the details of what happened down in the vault. That’s a pretty big thing to be keeping to yourself.

A lot bigger than, “Oh yeah this relic attracts the thing we’re attracting anyway. My bad.”

Why the relic attracts grimm is another question. Because it’s connected to the original brothers? Just because Salem wants it and she seems to be the grimms’ creator? We’ll have to see.

Ruby interrupts everyone’s fury to point out that they have bigger issues at the moment and Ozpin’s expression kind of kills me? He looks so shocked to have anyone standing up for him, even if it’s a defense of practicality instead of his actions. I wonder if this Volume is going to have the team starting to lose a little faith in Ruby. Given the clear divide here (angry Ren, Nora, Weiss, Yang, and Blake on one side; Ruby, Oscar, Ozpin on the other) this might be a major theme moving forward. It would make a lot of sense too given Ruby's past relationship with Ozpin. To Yang he's just her headmaster; to Ruby he's the headmaster that let her into her dream school early. To Blake he's someone who wanted information from her before she was ready to give it; to Ruby he's the adult who gave her advice at the dance and was emotionally open with her about committing more mistakes "than any man, woman, or child." No matter how far she's come, they'll always be a part of Weiss that sees Ozpin as the teacher who didn't give her the leadership position she thought she deserved; to Ruby he's the man that has put a staggering amount of trust in her: by letting her into his school, giving her a team, sending her to Mountain Glenn, etc.

Now, it might be time for Ruby to put her trust in Ozpin.

Fight temporarily averted, they decide to separate the teams… which felt a little forced to me. I mean I get it. As said, giant group. It’s hard to write and keep track of that many, so let’s knock three offstage for a while. Jaune, Ren, and Nora will see the people to safety while Ruby and the rest of the gang eventually catch up. We get a glimpse of Maria—the old lady with awesome glasses—clearly plotting something and then everyone heads back to the roof to finish the fight with the grimm.

Blake has a quick vision of Adam; the last time she separated a train car. Excellent touch there. Ruby tells Ren to use his semblance through the scroll, but we also get a glimpse of their signals getting weaker. Another nice touch considering how important we know the scrolls are throughout the RWBY universe: how the team keeps in contact during the Volume Four short, the damage that the fall of the CCT tower has caused, etc.

We get a final, epic showdown with a massive grimm where everyone’s teamwork proves to be some top tier stuff. Blake and Yang capture it using Blake’s ribbon. Weiss freezes off its wings. Then—in a fantastic split screen—Ruby and Qrow both use their scythes to cut the creature in two. I’m here for the power family moves.

Only problem is that a final fireball from the grimm hits the train, derailing their section. Weiss keeps them all from dying an awful death, but now they’re kind of stranded.

I mean, they already were stranded before, but I guess the hope was the back of the train would have carried them farther down the tracks before losing momentum?

In the final scene we have an unexpected voice happily proclaiming that they’re still alive but boy, that was a close one! Maria hobbles out, having clearly planned to be with this group when they went their own way.

My personal theory? She knows (and to some extent recognizes) Ozpin. I can’t believe he wasn’t involved in a conflict like the Great War. Hell, he was probably at the center of it and Maria looks very old by RWBY standards. We have no concept of how long people in this world can live so I don’t think it’s a stretch to put her in her 90s or well over 100—old enough to have fought in the War and potentially recognize one of the central figures, even in a new reincarnation depending on her instincts, knowledge, and semblance. Her name lends a bit of credence to her age, if nothing else. As far as I know “Maria” doesn’t mean/isn’t evocative of a color… though I’m far from an expert. Could totally be wrong about that.

Regardless, we’ll see. More info arrives next week!

Other Details of Note

The grimm are at a distance when we first spot them and they actually look a lot like crows. The same motif we’ve seen with Raven and Qrow’s entrances but, you know, bad.

I really liked Qrow’s line to Ironwood about how they’re bringing “more than bad news.” It’s appropriately vague—can’t go admitting that Oz is back with the group—and at the same time quite up-lifting.

I personally take Ozpin’s “I hope they’re not from Beacon” as more of a joke than a true worry. If you’re telling me that this old as balls control freak doesn’t remember every student that’s ever passed through those doors… I don’t believe you.

When Blake is saying goodbye to Ilia and Sun we have lots of animation for her ears, helping to express her emotions. It says a lot about her character development that she hasn’t re-adopted the bow in such a crowded, human packed space.

Neptune is pursuing the “wrong tree” okay lol that was good.

When Neptune and Sun discuss re-uniting the team we briefly hear the soundtrack from their Vytal Festival match. Excellent.

Interestingly, Oscar gives Ozpin control immediately during the conversation about the relic, almost like he already knew what was going to be revealed and understood that it was important… I wonder how much they’re sharing thoughts now, two weeks later.

Here, have a beach Ren and happy birb. Yes, I went back for the screenshots...

[botanistlester]

Sweet Pea (27/34)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: Kind of a short chapter, but that's alright. I think it's important! I'm excited about the next few chapters ahhh. Chapter 28 MAY come out a little bit early? Not positive? Because I'm going to chicago this next weekend, but it depends on if i have internet connection or not. If I have internet connection then i'm gonna upload it on saturday as usual! Thanks for @snowbunnylester for editing for me. The lyrics at the beginning are from The Fire by Tonight Alive.

ALSO, thank you SO MUCH to everybody who voted for this fic in the phanfic awards. I am super proud to announce that this fic won many awards! Sweet Pea was officially voted first place Best of the Best fic, Best Angst, and Best Chaptered, and second place in the Edge of the Seat Award, and Slow Burn, for the phanfic awards 2017! I appreciate and love all of you and i'm gonna cry wtf!

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

But I made it out alive. I’m here to say I breathe; at least I try. I won’t go without a fight. You can’t stop me.

-

Phil has been doing a lot of thinking.

Truth was, he was bored. He was bored of life. His life had become an endless cycle of the same things over and over again; get up, go to work, get back home, clean the house, make dinner, play video games, talk to Dan, go to sleep. Over and over and over again. There was nothing for him to be excited about, nothing that made the wheels in his head turn to make him think, nothing to expand his knowledge about subjects that he cared about.

He missed school. He missed his friends. He missed going out. He missed how he would go to school and giggle in the middle of lectures because his friend had decided to make a lame sex joke under their breath. He missed going to the dining halls on campus and watching the people walk past as he ate a sad enchilada. He missed how he had to stay up late to finish essays because he’d procrastinated way too much. Okay well, maybe he didn’t miss that part, but he missed the other stuff and it almost made him long for that as well.

He was trapped in an endless cycle of boredom and he didn’t really know what to do about it.

“Dan, I think I’m dying,” Phil groaned out one day, when his thoughts finally caught up to him and he realised that he couldn’t fucking do this anymore.

Dan set down his DS, which Phil assumed he had been using to play Animal Crossing judging by the songs. His friend raised his eyebrows in question, staring at him quizzically, expectantly. “Okay?” Dan asked slowly. “And why do you think you’re dying.”

Phil pressed his palms into his eyes and pressed down. Stars danced across his vision like it was mimicking the night sky, and he let out another pitiful groan. “I’m so fucking bored.”

“Alright, so do something else then and stop sitting around on your ass,” Dan replied as though it was the simplest solution in the entire world. He went to pick up his DS again, but Phil stopped him with his words.

“No, like. I’m bored. With life.” Phil sighed, and he didn’t really think before he started to speak again. He had gotten a little better about speaking about his feelings, thanks to the endless prodding from Nate, but he was still pretty bad at it. Especially when it came to major life choices and not thinking it through before he suggested it. “I think I want to go back to school.”

Dan really did drop his DS then. It dropped to the floor with a thump as he sat up from the couch, staring at Phil with his mouth open in a gape. “Now hold on,” Dan said, his eyes blinking fast. “Let’s talk about this first so I can understand your sudden change of heart.”

Phil groaned and flung himself backwards on the couch, fully aware that he was throwing a temper tantrum. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to do. He was bored. So fucking bored that it made his head spin and his fingers tap rhythmically on the desk. Staying in the house during the day, just doing work and coming back home afterwards, was making him go insane.

He needed to do something.

“What is there to understand, Dan?” Phil asked, his voice pathetic and whiney like he was a god damn baby. “I’m so bored that I think I’m going to actually die. What else is there to think about?”

Dan bit his lip, looking concerned. Phil didn’t really understand why he was so concerned. Didn’t he want Phil to go back to school? To do something with his life? With the way that Dan was looking now, it seemed like he was more apprehensive than anything at this suggestion, and it made Phil’s heart sink. Phil’s shoulders began to sag with defeat and his chest caved in like he was trying to hide himself from the world. Dan saw this, shaking his head and scooting closer to him on the couch. “No, no! It’s not what you’re thinking,” Dan promised. He put an arm around Phil’s shoulders, and brought him closer so that he could place a chaste kiss on the side of Phil’s head.

Phil relaxed into him, because this was Dan and there was no way that Phil could just give up an offer of cuddling a literal giant teddy bear. He stayed silent as Dan continued, just drinking in his warmth and closing his eyes to try and calm himself down, to tell himself that Dan was here, of course he was going to be concerned about Phil. “So what aren’t I thinking of then?” Phil murmured, closing his eyes and soaking in the feel of being cuddled up close to Dan.

“Well,” Dan started. He picked up his hand and started to brush his fingers through Phil’s hair, just how Phil liked it. It was wonderful and made Phil’s head get off of the impending conversation just slightly. He always liked when people brushed their fingers through his hair, almost as though he were a cat. It made him feel calm. Loved, even. “I’m honestly just concerned about your mental stability at the moment. Not because I don’t think you can handle school or anything, but because I know you dropped out because you physically couldn’t handle it anymore. So I guess I just worry that you’ll join school again and then immediately feel pressured and overwhelmed again, which is something I don’t want for you. Does that make sense, or am I just an asshole?”

Phil chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re not an asshole, Dan,” he said warmly, and it was the truth. He could see where Dan was coming from with this. After all, Dan had seen Phil in probably every mood possible by now. He’d seen Phil when he’d given up. He’d seen Phil when he was angry. He’d seen Phil when he was broken beyond repair, and he’d seen Phil when he was baking five batches of cookies while dancing around the kitchen singing Japanese music at the top of his lungs. Phil had no doubt in his mind that Dan knew him better than he knew himself.

Which was why Phil was confident enough in their relationship to calmly tell Dan why he had to do this, why he had to go back to school. Not for anybody else, but for himself.

“I’ll be honest with you, Dan,” he began, taking his best friend’s free hand in his own. He started to play with Dan’s fingers, picking them up slightly and letting them slap back down onto his thigh. “At this point in my life, right now, I feel like I don’t enjoy anything anymore. Sure, that was the same as before and I know that. But while I felt like I had nothing to live for back then, I feel like I can… I don’t know, accomplish something now? Like maybe I can do something other than sitting around on my ass playing Mario Kart all day and working at a dumb pizza place. If I go to school, I think it’ll give me that drive to actually do something again, you know? Like maybe I can be an English professor someday and actually be happy with myself. Doesn’t that sound great?”

Dan was silent for a moment, which was disconcerting to Phil. He glanced over at Dan to find his friend grinning so largely that he couldn’t possibly speak, his entire face lit up like the sun. He surged forward suddenly, embracing Phil in a hug so tight that it knocked the breath out of him. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you,” Dan whispered in Phil’s ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. It felt weirdly intimate, but Phil didn’t mind. He rather liked it. “Two months ago, you never would have said something like this. And now you’re filled with hope and amazement and excitement about the future.”

Dan sighed and sat back, holding Phil at arms length. His eyes were golden honey on a bright day, and Phil mimicked his happy grin. “I’m so immensely proud of you, Phil. I don’t think you know just how much guts this took to finally try to start getting on your feet again. I support you wholeheartedly, and I’ll be there for you every step of the way no matter what, just as I always have been.”

Phil laughed, a giddy bubble escaping from his chest. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Admittedly, I’m scared. Really scared.” He looked away from Dan, staring at the ceiling instead and squinting like he was trying to find something on the white surface. “What if I see Nico there? Chandler? What if I have a break down? What if I end up not being able to do it? Because you’re right. I am screwed up. I do have a lot going on. There are probably going to be times I have a panic attack and won’t be able to finish homework due to that. I have full faith that’ll happen. But I can’t just give up due to some guy who made me love him more than I loved myself.” Phil paused and made eye contact with Dan, his gaze burning. “It’s about time I loved myself. It’s about time I stopped sulking around. I need to get out, Dan, and this is one of the first steps into having a better life.”

Dan was staring at Phil as though he had put the stars in the sky, his expression filled with awe. He was happy, so happy, that Phil almost thought he would just lean forward and kiss him or something. That was the kind of expression Dan was giving him, and it made Phil’s chest swell in a pleasant and excited way. Dan didn’t kiss him though, of course he didn’t, because they were best friends, but he did pick up Phil’s hand, entwining their fingers together. “I’m so fucking proud of you, jesus christ. But you’re wrong about this being the first step.” Phil cocked his head in confusion, and waited for Dan to go on. “The first step started as soon as Nico walked out of your life. You started to heal that same day. It may not have felt like it, but you started to do things that were the best for you, even if you may have chosen some coping mechanisms that weren't’t healthy.” Phil grimaced as he remembered Jace, how he’d cheated on him, how many people he’d slept with in such a short time frame. He wasn’t proud of that. “It’s been fucking hard, and it may not have felt like you were healing, but you were. You still are. And you’re doing better every day. Not everybody can do that but you did. Do you know how amazing that is?”

Phil beamed, and his eyes started to well up with tears despite himself. He was being a baby, but that was alright. He had no qualms with crying in front of Dan now. And he definitely wasn’t embarrassed to lurch forward to bury himself in Dan’s chest, using his warmth as comfort in this hard time. “I’m so scared,” Phil whispered into Dan’s chest.

A pair of warm arms encircled his waist and clutched him tightly to Dan’s body, almost like a shield. Phil felt protected just from the embrace, like nothing bad in the world could hurt him. “I know,” Dan whispered. “But you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be by your side through it all.”

“Thank you,” Phil choked out. He suddenly couldn’t breathe, his throat all clogged up with cotton wool, tears leaking from his eyes. “I’m worried about if I see him. What would I do? I don’t… I don’t think I can see him again without having a meltdown again.”

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Dan said protectively, tightening his arms even more around Phil’s waist. “You have a restraining order and you have me. I’ll punch him if he even steps within twenty feet of you.”

Phil barked out a laugh, one thick with tears and worry. “But you won’t be there the whole time I’m on campus. What if I see him during one of the times you can’t be there?”

Dan kissed the top of Phil’s head and rubbed the small of his back. “Then Louise and I will form our own mafia and skin him alive,” he joked, before turning serious. “For real, though. I won’t let anything happen to you. It he gets close to you then call the police. You can’t stop living your life in fear of him, you can’t let him control you. You’re stronger than him, you’re better than him, and you have wonderful friends who will beat his ass if he even tries to come close to you.” Dan reached up and grabbed Phil’s face in his hands, gently forcing Phil’s face up to make eye contact. He smiled warmly. “Seriously. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

There weren’t a lot of things that Phil believed in anymore. He didn’t believe in Santa Claus. He didn’t believe that each person only fell in love once. He didn’t believe that people deserved to go through the shit that he went through with Nico.

But for some reason, he found himself believing that he would be safe, that he could go back to school and steer clear from Nico. WIth Dan and Louise and all of his other friends sticking by his side, Phil felt like he could do anything in the world.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

[ims-monbebe]

Heavy Dirty Soul

Authors note: Guyyys, I’m starting a new fic even though I have so much writing works to work on asdfghjkl why am I like this. Anyways here’s the first chapter. It’s different than things I’ve written for tumbr because it has characters instead of an x reader pov, so enjoy :-)

Chapter 1: What Happens When Two Lonely Bodies Get Together?

  Has it ever occurred to anyone that we judge people too much by a cover? Not that people walk around with literal covers on their bodies, but don't you think as a collective as humans we tend to judge too much on what people look like despite the type of people they are on the inside?

  "Ugh!" I groan as I push away my laptop. "This will never do." I take a large swing of my cup of coffee as my friend Brittany laughs in front of me.

  "Oh come on Hanna, it isn't that bad. You're hitting the topic on point. I'm sure it can blossom if you keep at it."

  I rub my temples as I look back down at my screen. "Who knew majoring in writing would have so much writing?"

  "It's kind of self-explanatory don't you think? Majoring in writing, of course, will have a bunch of writing. Have you even started the video part of this project that's due next week?"

  "Fuck!" I yell, causing a few heads to look at me. "I really forgot about that, what the fuck does videography have to do with writing anyways? That dick of a Professor Smith. It's all bull shit I'll tell you that."

  "Hanna," Brittany laughs again. "Have you even found what you want to do your video on?"

  "Yeah, of course." I take another sip of my coffee. "I'm going to that gig that those scary looking boys have been handing out flyers to all around campus. Should be fun right?"

  "Here you are writing a paper on judgment and yet you are judging these boys."

  "I'm just speaking the truth. You know Lee Jooheon right? He handed me the flyer and I asked him if it was okay to record from side stage."

  "Jooheon? The Lee Jooheon? Hanna, you know he has a reputation right? And it's not a good one."

  "Who cares about that when he's that hot? Besides, it's not like anything is gonna happen. This is professional. He agreed to let me record the whole thing as long as I edit it and help him post it on his youtube channel."

  "I don't know, I heard that bad things always happen at those gigs."

  "What could possibly happen?"

  Brittany shrugs. "I'm just saying, Hanna, that's what I hear around campus. Jooheon and his click have a very edgy rep."

  "A guy has a couple of piercings and a few tattoos and he's a bad guy? It makes him look exciting. The others though in his group I'm not sure about."

  "Have you been hanging out with Jooheon?" Brittany raises her eyebrow as she takes a sip of her coffee. "Because if you have I swe-"

  "What? No no, I only ever talked to him when he handed me the flyer. I've been classmates with him for years but we’ve never really talked to each other. He's always with his friends and has a different girl on his hip every other week." I shake my head. "Anyways, I should get going the gig starts in an hour and I want to get there so I can find out where to stand and what not."

  Brittany nods her head. "Yes of course."

  We both get up and take our trash to the trash can before stepping outside. "How are you gonna get there?" Brittany questions.

  "Probably just a taxi." I take out the flyer from my book bag and scan the address. "I have no idea where the hell this is even all about. All it really says is open mic night, come support talented local artist, and then the address on the bottom."

  "Well, I'm assuming from the words open mic, and the fact that it is a gig it's for music."

  "Brittany I know that I just meant like what's the point of it."

  "Beats me." Brittany shrugs as she begins to walk in the other direction. "I guess you'll find out later. I'll see you next lecture!" She waves off.

  I wave her off before turning around and walking down the street. I take out my phone and type the address that's on the flyer into my phones GPS. I squint my eyes as I realize that the place is only a 5-minute walk from my standing point. I keep walking straight down the road as my phone commands and make a quick left turn. Once I turn I see a street full of houses. I keep walking up the street until I stop at the 5th house up. Music is playing loudly in the back, I frown as I begin walking up the pathway that leads to the back gate. I push the wooden door and it opens slightly. I walk in further till I reach a huge backyard. Boys are laughing and setting up while drinking cheap beer. I look at my watch and notice it's only 7 P.M, the flyer states the show won't start until 8. I groan and scan my eyes looking for a familiar face.

  Why am I looking anyways? There's literally no one I know, this isn't my crowd or scene. I'm just here to complete my project and leave. I sit down at a table set up and take out my camera from my book bag. I look around as it starts up to see girls and boys staring at me while whispering in each other's ears. I roll my eyes slightly as I see a pair of shoes standing in front of me. I look up and gulp slightly at the familiar but not acquainted face.

  "Hello." The boy waves. My eyes stare at him harder.

  "Shin Hoesok?"

  "Please, call me Wonho." He sits down next to me.  "I heard you're recording tonight's show for us. I just wanted to thank you."

  I raise my eyebrow at him. "Um, you're welcome. I'm sorry I don't want to come off as rude but it's just a project for my creative writing class."

  "Hey whatever baby, I don't judge what it's for. I'm just thanking you. We'll get the scene out there sooner or later. That's what's important yeah? We're helping you while you help us in return. We give you something to record and you give us something to upload." He fiddles with his lip piercing with his tongue. He smiles a little more before standing up. "Come on, I'll take you inside so we can show you how we want tonight to go. Jooheon is waiting for you."

  I would usually get infuriated at the fact of some man I'm not too familiar with calling me baby. Hell, I'd probably hit him smack on the head with this patio chair I'm sitting on. But for some reason, I don't feel threatened by him right now. I know who he is, I know his reputation but to me, that's not who he's coming off as. "Just follow me." 

  I get up from my seat without saying a word. Wonho only smiles as he begins walking forward towards the house. He opens the sliding door and we both step inside. I look around and the house inside is really nice. "Who's house is this?"

  Wonho looks back at me as he begins climbing a set of stairs. "Jooheon's parents. They're out of town for the weekend."

  "That explains why you guys are having this whole thing?"

  He shrugs as he opens a curtain that leads to a back den. "Probably."

  We both walk into the room and there were the rest of Wonho's friends Shownu, Kihyun, Minhyuk, Changkyun, Hyungwon, and of course Jooheon.

  "Hey Heather, glad you can make it." Jooheon smiles, this girl on his lap giggling endlessly.

  I roll my eyes. "It's Hanna, actually."

  "Heather, Hanna whatever all the same thing. Glad you can make it."

  Wonho takes a seat next to him and suddenly everyone's eyes are on me. I let out a small breath avoiding to roll my eyes right in front of all them. "Why did you call me up here?"

  He leans his head back and whispers something into the girl's ear, after a few nods the girl leaves the room, staring me down in the process. "I have a few other, well we all have a few other requests for you." He smiles while he pushes his curly hair out of his face.

  I feel my heartbeat get faster, I've known of Jooheon for a long time. We've been classmates since middle school. We don't know each other personally but damn the boy this close and personal is making me feel something strange in my chest. I look up at him, Jooheon has his arms resting behind his head as he's nibbling on his bottom lip's piercing. I mentally slap myself after a few moments of staring at him."

  "Are you gonna go on or are you gonna just stare at me?"

  "Woah," Jooheon looks over at Wonho and points at me. "We got ourselves a feisty little kitten here." Wonho laughs and Jooheon clears his throat. "It isn't bad kitten don't get your little yarn in a bunch. Changkyun and Kihyun just wanted to know if it was okay if you can take photos as well."

  "What the fuck do I look like a photographer?" I roll my eyes.

  I look around and see Kihyun rolling his eyes. "Heather, it isn't a big deal, will you just do this for us? We'll pay you." Kihyun says in an angry voice.

  "For fuck sakes, my name is not Heather! Fine, fine. Whatever. I'll take photos of you guys, you don't have to pay me I don't need your money."

 I look at Jooheon again who only shows me a sly smile. "Great, I'll meet you outside then little kitten." 

  “You’re disgusting, aren’t you with that girl why are you even calling me that?”

  He looks over at Minhyuk and laughs, “I don’t know. I don’t even know her name.” 

  He gets off the couch and walks over to me. He looks into my eyes and brushes a piece of my hair behind my ears. “You’re a special little kitten tonight, but don’t worry. It will just be for tonight.” He grazes his thumb against my chin.

  I push his hand away from my face. “Get the fuck away from me. You’re a pig!” 

  I begin to rush out of the den and I hear laughter erupt from behind me. I feel the tears fight my eyes as I make my way downstairs. “Hanna wait!” I hear Wonho behind me.

  “What do you want? Are you gonna mock me too?”

  “Look I’m sorry that happened in there. I know Jooheon is a shit bag, but don’t let him ruin your grade. Please stay and record the gig?”

  I avoid making eye contact with him, I sigh before I clear my throat. “Why do you want me here? I know no one does.”

  Wonho shakes his head. “You have an important job here tonight, I won’t let Jooheon fuck that up, he’s fucked up too many things in our lives. So please stay?”

  I stay silent for a moment. Why is Wonho being so nice to me? Is all that can run through my head. Why is the hottest senior being this nice to me? “Fine, I’ll stay. Not for Jooheon, for you.”

  Wonho smiles the most beautiful of smiles I’ve ever seen in my life. “Good, I’ll go tell Jooheon and the others that he didn’t fuck this up. Just wait outside till we start. When we start I’ll go get you so you can know where to stand.”

  “Okay, thank you Wonho. Thanks for me calming down. You’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

  He looks down before he makes his way upstairs again. “You wouldn’t believe how much I get that.”

  “I believe you Wonho.”

  He turns back around. “Jooheon is actually the same way you know, don’t let the leather pants fool you.”

 “And if they do?”

 Wonho smiles once again. “Then you’ll be in for a surprise.”

[chocolatemillkk]

Kid Brother II

Part Two of Part One

I'm trying to build a 4 or 5 part fic so bear with me! I'm totally open to requests in the mean time and would love any constructive criticism. Thanks for everyone's responses! 💙

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The bold oranges bleed into yellows and the sky becomes a muted blue as the sun's vibrance shines down on us. I wrap my blanket tighter around my shoulders, trying to ward off the morning chill. All of my girls were here and we were finally free enough to do something as simple as watching the sun rise over the sleepy town and my heart felt full. But-as there was always a but with me-a little part of me wished I had someone to share it with...romantically. I wish I had somebody else wrapped in this blanket so we could experience the magnificance together.

"I definitely need to bring Alfie up here soon," Zoe says as if reading my mind.

"It would be so romantic," Poppy scrunchles her nose. "Though Sean would probably talk through the whole thing."

We laugh when Anna says, "But you would love it."

I let out a sigh as Zoe leans her head on my shoulder. Every single one of my friends had been in long term relationships. They all knew what love was and I felt left behind. 27 and I didn't know what it meant to be in love. I blamed myself for it, obviously, I was so in love with my job that I always told myself work first and boys second. I didn't regret that but moments like these made me ache a little.

"You'll find someone soon," Zoe hears my sigh. "When you least expect it and you'll fall for each other and it will be better than what you imagine."

I smile at her optimism. And then the other girls find it funny to add on "and he'll have the biggest muscles you've ever seen," or "and he won't mind driving you around London traffic," while dissolving in fits of laughter.

"You guys are all so clever," I smile at my friends. "But almost half of those things are not even my type."

Zoe sits up and raises her eyebrows, "So what is your type Y/N?"

I think for a second, "Definitely not ripped, huge muscles are a turn-off!" Niomi sighs. "He's got to be handsome, strong-and that's mentally too! I love a good head of hair, he's got to be funny! And knows how to let loose..."I trail off as a certain someone pops into my head and I see Zoe's mind at work. "Got to be at least a couple years older," I add in. "Oh and taller than me. Nothing that starts with 5!"

We decide to grab breakfast and head back to Zoe's where most of us have to head back to our everyday busy lives.

"It was so relaxing being here, thanks Zoe."

"Stop working yourself so hard!" She complains as she pulls me in a tight hug.

"Hey! You should not be talking ms-throwing-christmas-launches-in-october!" Zoe laughs into my shoulder before releasing me.

"We need to remember to just hang out more."

"Deal!"

"It was nice of you to come by, sorry I wasn't home." Alfie comes up behind Zoe, peeling an orange.

"Oh at least I got to see your face in real life," I give Alfie a quick hug.

"Oi!" A voice echoes from upstairs. Shit I didn't know Joe was still around.

"I'm heading to London right after my video uploads. Ride with me."

I meet Zoe's eye and she raises her eyebrow. "May as well, I'm sure he'd like the company."

I shout an "okay" and excuse myself to go upstairs.

"How long is the uploading gonna take?" I ask Joe from his doorway. He's got his laptop in the middle of the bed while he stuffs pieces of clothing into a duffle bag.

"Should be 10 max. Then we can head out."

I step into the room and sit on the bed, "Sounds good."

Joe's eyes scan the room and then he sits next to me with his laptop. "I've been meaning to ask you if you could star in one of my videos?"

"Me?" I ask, confused since I'd never been on an official video before-just in the occasional vlog.

"Yeah, I sort of wanted to do a childhood type video next time I'm in Brighton. Mikey is making the trip to London in a few weeks so I was gonna take him with. And since you grew up with us, I dunno, thought it would add something more for the viewers. Plus they're always asking about you when you pop up on mine or Zoe's."

I consider it, "I'm not the best for something so formal."

What?! You don't have to be we'll all just be talking so no pressure."

I agree to it after he gives me some more details. Sitting this close, I can't help put drink in his features as he lays it out. When he was serious, Joe looked older but in a handsome way. I tried not to think more on it but my stomach started fluttering and I got up abruptly.

"Sounds lovely Joseph, I'm just gonna use the toilet before we go."

"Uh yeah," Joe looks at me funny as I fly out of the room.

I take extra long so by the time I'm done I hear Joe's voice downstairs. We were ready to go.

"No more portals, you're ruining the-the feng shui of the house." Zoe tells Joe as I step down. "The Feng shui?" Joe asks laughing.

Alfie lines up in front of the vlogging camera, "we've had a few ghosts show up through that portal. It's almost Halloween we don't want any more coming through."

"Joe's portal's creating tears in the fabric of the Zalfie house?" I joke and suddenly the camera's on me. Joe walks towards me as Zoe and Alfie chime in their agreement. "This is the lead archaeologist here at the Zalfie residence. Now what is it about these tears?"

"Archaeologist?" I ask Joe.

"Shh-scientist, now what were you saying?" Joe pretends to hold up a microphone as he angles the camera at us.

"These tears," I put on a serious voice and look into the camera, "are the result of the space portal Joesph Sugg has created and time and space is always a tricky concept wouldn't you agree?" I look at Joe who's been staring at me with a smile on his face. He nods while taking off his glasses and perching them on my nose. I almost laugh but bite my lip. "Nasty things slip through as Alfie Deyes has already told us so we need to let the portals remain stagnant for...2 months and...."

"16 days," Joe finishes.

"Precisely," I giggle as Joe takes the camera off of me and realise Zoe is doubled over giggling silently. Alfie is shakind his head at us but his smile reveals his humour.

"...so I guess we'll be taking the Mercedez." Joe explains. I walk away from him as he finishes up and give Zoe and Alfie another hug. Joe catches up to me and grabs my bag as well as his.

"What the bloody hell is in here?" Joe asks. "Just clothes, some toiletries." I respond. He shakes his head as he loads up the back. He sets up the camera on the dashboard after he turns on the car but he accidentally knocks it near my feet. There's an audible crack and we look at each other in horror as we reach for it at the same time.

"Shit," I say as Joe yelps. We pull back our heads and I rub the side before laughing. "Sorry you alright?"

"I'll be bloody fine what about the camera?"

I reach down for it, alone, and hand it to Joe. "I guess it's hard for anything to hurt that thick skull."

His mouth drops, "You're the worst at being nice!" I laugh evilly as he checks out his camera.

"That's weird nothing's wrong," Joe says and then points it towards him. "And it's been on which means everyone heard the real Y/N Y/L/N. She is as icy as they get ladies and gents."

I shrug my shoulders, "I'm a scientist just reporting the facts."

Joe raises his eyebrows and turns to the camera. "I am getting roasted so I'll just," he sticks his hand in front of the camera and turns it off. "That's really odd I swear I heard a crack."

I look down and suddenly spot the culprit. A small glass bottle of hot sauce is wedged under the seat. I pick it up and show Joe. We have a good laugh and soon we're on our way.

"How was the sunrise?" Joe asks after we listen to the radio for a bit.

"It was lush," I gush. "It was so many shades of the most beautiful colours, and it slowly lit up every single thing. It was so bloody romantic."

Joe laughs, "Romantic? You didn't even have your boyfriends up there."

"Well all the girls wished they were. Obviously I don't have one but if I did, that would be amazing."

"Aren't you dating that guy...Jackson?"

"Jacob? God Joe I went on a few dates with him three months ago. He was too clingy. That was so long ago!"

"Well I never bloody see you! You're always up at the crack of dawn rushing to work then rushing home where you work some more."

Joe is referencing to one morning when I bumped into him while getting coffee after I hadn't seen him in months but left after a two minute chat. He texted me afterwards saying how offended he was he wasn't worth more of my time-joking of course.

"It's just my job!" I defend myself.

"Yeah but you should take a break, hang out with friends. We live in the same part of London but I never even see you!"

"Well we lead different lives."

"No, next time I go out I am going to make sure you're there. And then I can watch you get drunk because I have not experienced that since your college days, and before that...senior dance." Joe laughs. I blush with embarassment.

"Fine, as long as it's not on a weekday and I don't have a date."

I go back to texting on my phone but Joe interrupts after a while.

"So...Justin?"

"Jacob." I correct him.

"Yeah, that bloke. He was clingy? What does that mean?"

"Well I told him from the beginning work's a huge priority for me and he said it was fine by him but after the third date he would get so annoyed if I didn't text him right away or if it took me over an hour to respond. He was too much."

"It takes you an hour to respond?"

"Ugh not you too." I roll my eyes.

"No-seriously Y/N are you that invested in work? I'm not so sure that's healthy."

"Listen Joeseph I get enough shite from all my other friends I don't need yours added in. That's like my kid brother lecturing me on working so much."

"I'm not your kid brother," Joe says.

"Obviously not!" I say-that would be creepy. "My kid brother is 21. I said like."

"I'm like your kid brother?" Joe asks and I could tell he was offended and maybe that was a little condescending but I was trying to ignore my newfound crush by saying what I should be believing.

"Ugh don't take it so literally Joe!" I pull out my phone again and browse through it as Joe stays silent the rest of the ride. When he pulls up in front of mine, I finally put the phone down.

"Thank you," I punch his shoulder lightly after he merely nods his head. "Why are you so moody?"

"Just tired," he comments.

I let it go, not in the mood to have any sort of discussion with him. Especially when he looked so hot that moody. "I expect to hear from you soon about that invite," I tease. "I'll see you around."

That finally gets him to look at me and his face melts into a smile, "You better be ready to go out with me."

My heart skips a beat but I play it off with a laugh. "You'd be surprised with how well I hold my liquor."

I walk up the steps to the apartment and as soon as I get inside I flop onto my bed. That was the most tense and emotionally confusing car ride I have ever had