#got one turned in last night so we’re down to three + my thesis

[cryptidlark]

Calculated and I have approximately 30 pages worth of essays to write in the next week and a half before I graduate…pray 4 me 🙏✌️

[r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e]

idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —

“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.

“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”

except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —

“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”

“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”

“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.

so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.

rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.

they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.

and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.

once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.

it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.

they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.

jesus christ, eddie thinks.

they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —

the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.

eddie is maybe a little bit in love.

they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.

“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“

“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“

“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“

“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”

“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.

“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.

“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.

“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.

eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.

“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.

“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.

“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.

“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.

where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.

hm, eddie thinks.

“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”

[marktuansvevo]

got7: valentines day dates!

warning(s); a little bit of suggestive content in youngjae and bam’s parts, cursing

happy valentines, babes!! ♡

mark;

mark showers you with fancy gifts, no matter how hard you protest. “you don’t have to so much money on me,” you would say through the bathroom door as you slipped into the pretty baby pink floor length gown you had just unwrapped. “you know just spending time with you is the only thing i ever want.”

mark hummed at the sentiment, not looking up from his phone. “i would have whisked you away to taiwan if there wasn’t a goddamned pandemic.”

when you walked out of the bathroom, he instantly brightened, motioning for you to turn around so he could see how well the dress fit. “you always look so pretty,” he said, giggling. “can you wear that to dinner? i love how you look in it.”

now it was your turn to coo. “mark, valentine’s is cheesy. we don’t have to go out, i can order us takeout.”

“stop avoiding all the attention. why can’t i properly show the world how much i love you?” mark raised his eyebrow at you. “you deserve to be spoiled. period!”

“you can show the world how much you love me publicly,” you got on your tiptoes to kiss right below his ear, nipping a little. you smiled at the small giggle he let out. “but just know, i’m showing you how much i love you privately tonight.”

you expected him to blush, mark always got flustered when you talked to him about the bedroom. instead, he smirked at you, biting his lip. “good, because i bought you lingerie for tonight, too. you can be my pretty model.”

now you were the one blushing.

jaebeom;

different from mark, jaebeom keeps the valentines festivities private. he knows that you had a big presentation to pitch in front of the higher ups at your company, so he knew you were stressed. he wanted to relieve you of any and all stress and take care of you for the night. jaebeom made you your favorite meal, as well as a red velvet cake, and had bought three beautiful rose bouquets for you, each one representing one of the years you had spent together.

you walked through the front door, and even from the kitchen he could hear you sigh loudly. it must have been a long day.

“y/n?”

“hmmm?”

“happy valentines,” he whispered, pulling you into a hug and giving you a peck on the lips. “i love you.”

“i love you too. uhm, i don’t mean to be a downer baby, but i don’t feel like going out tonight,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest.

“rough day?” he frowned when you nodded. valentines was always one of your favorite days, so seeing you so down made his heart hurt. “well, good thing i made us dinner so we don’t have to go out.”

you picked your head off his shoulder, looking up at him. “you did?”

“yes, baby, don’t look so surprised,” he laughed, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen to see pasta and cake on the stove and the three bouquets on the dining room table. “we may have to sit at the island tonight, there’s a garden at the table.”

the two of you sat as the island of the kitchen, him listening intently as you told him about your day from hell. he could tell by your voice that you were exhausted, so once you finished with dessert, he took your plates and put them in the sink.

“cmon babe, you deserve to relax. let me run you a bath and i’ll do the dishes tonight.”

“why don’t you join me instead?” you asked sweetly. “just wanna be close to you.”

he winked at you. “anything for my valentine.”

jackson;

you were under strict instructions from your husband to meet him at a fancy restaurant with your two beautiful daughters in tow, since he had to work all morning and couldn’t make it to their schools valentines class parties. he felt so bad when his youngest, elizabeth, who was still in preschool started to cry when he told her he couldn’t come to her party. the oldest, natalie, who had just turned nine, put on a brave face, but you and jackson could tell she was crushed.

“cmon, girls, daddy doesn’t like when we’re late,” you urged, smiling softly as you watched natalie help beth change into her jumper.

“does daddy have gifts for us?” natalie asked, her eyes wide.

“mm, yes honey, and i have one for you too,” you smiled knowingly as your girls began to scream in excitement, almost knocking you down as they exited their shared room.

you made it to the restaurant, where you let out a breath of relief.  the girls wouldn’t stop pestering you about what your present for them was. you thought you might drop the ball and spill your little secret, but you kept your mouth shut, singing along to one of your husband’s songs that was on the radio, and the girls followed suit.

you walked them into the restaurant, where jackson was sitting alone with balloons and three gift bags – one for each of his girls.

“daddy!” your girls screamed in unison, running through the restaurant to get to their daddy. you watched the looks on the couples face as you passed by – some looked at the girls with joy in their eyes, while others just rolled their eyes, probably just wanting a quiet, romantic night out. you just smiled, nothing could bring your spirit down.

“ah, my girls! i missed you so much!” he said, scooping them both into his arms. “how were your parties, sweeties?”

you sat across from your husband who was taking in the stories of his daughters days, replying with the same amount of enthusiasm that they did. after the girls were done talking, natalie crossed her arms.

“daddy, are you trying to distract beth and i from these gifts?”

you giggled as jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “isn’t valentines supposed to be about love? i just want to hear how my girls are. i love you all very much, you know.”

your heart somersaulted. you fell more and more in love with him day after day.

the girls opened their gifts – a stuffed clifford the big red dog for beth (he was her favorite right now), and a lego set for natalie. they both thanked him endlessly. “daddy, will you help me put this together?” natalie asked, almost shyly.

“of course, baby girl.”

“mommy, what is your gift for us?”

jackson studied your face as you took the rectangular box that was tied up with a single black bow out of your pocket. there was a big, stupid grin on your face. “this is for all of you. i want you all to know i love you so much.”

“go ahead, girls, open it,” jackson urged, still studying your face. you winked at him.

“uh, mommy, what is this?”

jackson’s eyes were blown wide as he looked at the two positive pregnancy tests. “tell me you’re joking?” his eyes were misty now. the two of you had been trying for a third child for two years and had been failing. your daughters looked at the two of you, dissatisfied with your present.

“do you know what this means, girls?” jackson asked in a whisper, squeezing your hand from across the table. “you’re going to have a little brother or sister in a couple of months.”

“no way!!!” they cheered, hugging each other.

“this is the best valentines gift i have ever received, thank you baby,” jackson said. you sent him a wink.

“couldn’t have made it without you.”

jinyoung;

you were glowing as you looked over at jinyoung from across the table. he smiled as you just beamed at him, playing footsie under the table. it was 3am at the diner off campus, and nobody was around to see you two. you were happy, sucking on your milkshake. jinyoung just admired you before saying; “you have sex hair.”

“and who’s fault is that?”

the two of you had been the best of friends for as long as you could remember, and now, your senior year of college, the two of you had been best friends with benefits. you had been hooking up since the day you had called him sobbing about an exam, and he had consoled you by kissing you. it’s been history ever since then.

“when are you going to admit that we were made for each other,” jinyoung was nothing if not blunt. he smiled gently, reaching across the table and holding your hand. you shrinked in on yourself, blushing.

“i thought we agreed it’d be too much,” you said, stealing one of his fries off his plate, avoiding his gaze. “with senior thesis and projects…”

“i never agreed to that. you said that and i just went along with it because i didn’t want to lose what we have. i think it’s bullshit to say that us dating is too much. we see each other at least twice a week,” he paused before smirking. “you’re sitting here in my pajama pants with sex hair. on valentines day”

he had a point. the two of you always made time to see each other – studying at a local coffee shop on mondays and sometimes hooking up on the weekends (to relieve stress, of course).  you couldn’t deny the chemistry that the two of you had…and graduation was only a couple months away...would it really be so crazy to start dating right now?

“i know you adore me,” jinyoung smiled, saying it softly. “and i know that i adore you. so what’s the problem?”

you looked down. “i’m scared. i don’t want to lose you.”

jinyoung knew you had insecurities in relationships – the last guy you dated had moved away without even telling you and moved in with one of his girlfriends. he has helped you through that time of heartbreak in your life…and he didn’t want that to ever happen to you again. he wouldn’t stand for it.

“y/n, i would never hurt you.”

you squeezed his hand. “just give me some time, okay? you’re right, i do adore you.”

“i’ll give you whatever time you need.”

jinyoung picked up the tab and you drove back home in silence, your fingers interlaced with his. you looked over at him in the passenger side. “nyoungie, will you spend the night?”

he kissed your fingers. “of course, sweetheart.”

when you woke up the next morning, you’re alone. you immediately panic until you smell….eggs?

you walk into the kitchen to see jinyoung flipping eggs, and pretty flowers on the countertop. he smiles widely. “good morning, my valentine.”

cheesy bastard.

you wrap your arms around his back, breathing in his scent. “i don’t need anymore time.”

“hm?”

“i want to be yours, jinyoung.”

jinyoung turns around in your arms before kissing you. “i have always been yours.”

youngjae;

“youngjae, are you there?” you giggled as you sat on your shared bed.

“im here baby,” he said. “jinyoung keeps bugging me to watch with us.”

“tell him no! it’s date night,” you frowned. “im gonna go get a bottle of wine.”

“okay, honey.”

you walk into the kitchen, admiring the flowers youngjae had ordered for you for the tenth time that day. you grabbed your favorite bottle of wine and scooped up the little sleepy ball of fluff before heading back into the bedroom. although you would have loved to have physically spent valentines with youngjae, you realized this was the best it was gonna get.

“get the wine?” your boyfriend asked before squealing at the screen. “coco!!! oh, i miss you both so much!!!”

“is that coco!!” you heard jinyoung squeal too. mark came into the frame and started cooing too.

“jinyoung, mark, date night!” you giggled, lifting coco into your lap, shaking the little paw to say “hi.”

“i miss you guys,” you tell the boys. “i really do, but can jae and i enjoy valentines together? we just want some alone time.”

“ahh, okay y/n, happy valentines,” jinyoung winked at you.

“you really should come out here with us, they never listen to me that well,” youngjae says. “you look so pretty. i wish i was there with you.”

you and youngjae had been in a long distance relationship for three years now, and it got easier, but there was just some days you longed for each other. you knew this was one of those days, you could tell by the longing in his eyes.

“jae. i miss you,” you pouted. “coco, say bye to your daddy, mommy has to show him something.”

youngjae knew you were up to something. “jae...how about we skip the movie? i bought something for you,” before you could hear him answer, you started stripping out of your pjs, showing off your brand new lingerie. it left absolutely nothing to the imagination and made you look so sexy. and it was red, too. you could hear youngjae gulp, his pupils blown wide.

“why must you torture me?”

“oh, i mean, we can watch a movie instead....,” you teased, pulling down a strap to reveal more cleavage to your awaiting boyfriend. “its up to you, ill slip into my pajamas and we can —.”

“don’t you even think about stopping,” he growled, shifting the computer down to show you him palming his bulge. you grinned.

your plan was unfolding marvelously.

bam;

you didn’t want to make a big deal about bam working on valentines day. you knew it was a cheesy and cliche holiday...but that didn’t stop you from feeling sad that you couldn’t spend the whole day in your mans’ arms. you pushed the feeling away, texting your boyfriend “happy vday! love u”

you busied yourself with school work to ignore the hurt you felt in your heart, but you couldn’t get your mind off bam. you scrolled through your camera roll to pick the pictures for your instagram post. before you could post a picture of you posing with bam on the beach, a call interrupted you.

“y/n, what are you doing right now??” jackson asks in a panicked voice.

“uh, working on a project...are you okay?”

“bam just fell, he’s in pain. he keeps asking for you, can you take him to the ER??”

“ill be there in ten.”

you sped all the way to the dance studio, bracing yourself for a broken ankle or a gash in his face. oh, god, you wanted your heart to stop racing.

“where’s my baby boy??” you asked jaebeom, who was smirking when you first saw him, but the smirk was completely wiped off his face when he saw your misty eyes. “jaebeom, is he okay? why couldn’t you have brought him to the ER! i could have met you there!”

“uh, y/n, come with me. and stop crying,” jaebeom led you into the studio where bam was sitting on the floor. the studio was surrounded with gifts all wrapped up in pink and red, heart shaped balloons, as well a buffet of your favorite foods. you looked at jaebeom in confusion, who just winked at you and closed the door behind him.

“happy valentines, baby,” there was a knowing smile on his face.

“you are such an ass. i almost had a heart attack driving over here,” you whined, pulling away from his hug.

“y/n!! i was just trying to surprise you,” your boyfriend said, picking one of your gifts up and handing it to you. “please let me spoil you all day. i knew you were upset with me for coming to work, let me give you the valentines i know you want.”

you smiled. “how can i argue with such a big softie?”

“shut up, i cant help that i love you,” he was pouting now. “now let me eat whipped cream off of your body.”

yugyeom;

“how do you expect to meet someone if you have an engagement ring on your finger when you’re a single woman?” your new friend, yugyeom asked you. “seems strange to me.”

“maybe i don’t want to date anybody, did you ever think of that?” you asked him. “besides, it wards off all the creeps. hey, there’s a diner at this exit, wanna stop?”

you pulled off the highway to the diner. it was valentine’s, so of course the place was crowded. yugyeom whined. “can’t we just get mcdonalds or something? we’ve been in the car for six hours and im hungry.”

prior to six hours ago, you didn’t know yugyeom. he was bam’s best friend, so you had heard of him in the past. yugyeom was visiting some art school in new york, while you were going home to see your family for your sister’s birthday. wanting to save both of his friends money, he suggested you drive yugyeom to new york. you didn’t know….it was a long drive from chicago, but yugyeom said he would give you half the gas money, so it would be worth it. new york wasn’t cheap.

“exactly, so we should eat a proper meal. we still have six and a half hours left.”

“fine,” he huffed.

the waitress sat you two down and gave you your menus before squealing. everyone in the diner turned their heads. “oh. my. GOD!!! did he propose to you today? that ring is absolutely stunning!!”

“oh, no I –“

“as a matter of fact, i proposed this morning. we’re on our way to new york to tell our families,” yugyeom beamed at her, kicking your foot under the table.

the waitress looked like she might faint. “that is so romantic. whenever you’re ready, dinner’s on the house.”

she scurried away, and many “congratulations” rang throughout the little establishment.

“aw, honey you’re blushing,” yugyeom winked at you. you rolled your eyes. you didn’t know if you were smitten with this guy or if you plainly disliked him.

“don’t point it out, dear,” you played along. “have you figured out what you want to order?”

the two of you ordered and pretended to be a couple the whole meal. you scoured at your friend when he stole some of your french fries off your plate. he just sent a wink in your direction. when you sipped some of your milkshake, he rested his hand in his cheek, staring at you. you giggled.

“yeom, what are you up to?”

“just admiring.”

okay, so you were smitten by him.

the two of you went back to the car, where a small smile was playing on his lips. “that was kind of fun.”

you blushed, sinking into the drivers seat. “i haven’t had that much fun in years.”

“maybe you should get back into dating. i think you would make anyone have a good time with you.” he said offhandedly. “that ring is going to prevent you from ever going on a date again.”

“dating is never that easy,” you tried to reason with him…you had been burned so many times in the past, why would you ever want to let yourself get hurt again.

“it was with us,” since your eyes were on the road, you couldn’t see him shrug. “i’m going to take a nap, happy valentines.”

you glanced over at his sleeping form, smiling to yourself. you managed to take the ring off your finger without crashing the car and set it in the center console. beside you, yugyeom opened his eyes.

“does this mean i can take you out once we get to new york?”

[15-dogs]

partnered up |r.l.|

pairing: young!remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: you and your long time crush, remus, get partnered up for a defense against the dark arts theory. however, once you realize you two misunderstood the assignment, you’re both forced to stay over winter break with each other to make it up.

prompt: new years kiss

warnings: extremely light swearing, mentions of bloodied bandages (it’s super fluffy i promise!!)

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is for @whack-ed and @jamilelucato​‘s writing challenge (which you can check out here!) thank you so much for letting me participate! go check out their blogs!!

•••

Remus couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You whispered with Lily at the desk in front of him while your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor turned his back. 

Remus’ eyes trained on you, watching your every movement. He was absolutely enamored with the little things you did: the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed, the way your fingers drummed on the table while you spoke, the way your eyes would shift between Lily and the professor, seemingly taunting Remus but just grazing over his figure.

“Moony!” Sirius hissed, nudging Remus.

“What?” Remus finally looked away from you to eye his friend.

“Would you just go talk to her? I think I’m going to lose my mind if I have to see you ogling her every day.”

Remus’s brow knit together with annoyance. “What are you talking about? I don’t fancy her.”

Sirius’ eyes shot open with a taunt. “I never said that you did.”

Remus shook his head, looking away from Sirius back towards your seat. “It was implied,” he grumbled.

When Remus looked at your desk, you were gone. He searched around the room for you and realized that no one else was in their seats. His eyes continued to scan the room until a soft and familiar giggle interrupted him. His gaze snapped up to yours as you stood by his side.

“Were you listening?” you teased.

“I...er…” Remus’ cheeks heated up as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You nudged his shoulder with your hip, your hands clasped behind your back and eyes at the front of the classroom. “I’m just messing with you. We’re partners for this assignment, Lupin.”

His eyes lit up and his stomach flipped as he jumped to his feet. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you chuckled. You nodded your head for him to follow as you said, “What do you want to do for the assignment? I was thinking that we could do a series of essays or a collection of data composed into a journal of our works— something research based, preferably.”

Remus scuffed his feet along the tiling, finding it much more comfortable to stare at the ground. You stopped when you realized that he wasn’t following you. You ducked down to meet his eyes with a lazy smile tugging at your lips that had him weak in the knees.

“Let me guess,” you began, “you weren’t paying attention then, either?”

“I...no, not really.”

You reached out to take his hand in yours, making his heart lurch. You had no idea what you were doing to him, your delicate grasp around his calloused palm. Having the girl he fancied for years be so close to him coupled with his heightened senses was dangerous, to say the least; your smell was intoxicating and he was doing everything he could not to act on his feelings then and there.

“What’s got you so distracted, Lupin?” Your voice grounded him and he attempted to push his thoughts about what he wanted to do to you down, deep in the back of his mind. “You’re usually so on top of your game. You may even rival Lily for wits.”

Remus quirked a brow. “That must be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he joked. You dipped your head in silent laughter.

“I aim to please.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job.”

A wide smile crept onto your face and that familiar feeling of butterflies occupied your stomach as you stared down Remus’s lopsided grin. You quickly let go of his hand, fearful that the feeling would stay permanently if you kept holding it. You rubbed your hands on your sweater before clasping them in front of your body, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“Anyway,” you sighed, “we’re doing a project on Defense theory.”

“Oh,” he scoffed with a sense of conviction, “then research-based, of course. When is it due?” 

“Monday before winter break.”

Remus pulled a horribly crumpled paper out of his robe pocket, unfolding it with haste. “I’m tutoring every day after classes except for Fridays.” He finally looked up at you, his piercing blue-green eyes staring straight through you. “Could you meet me at the library after class on Friday?”

You nodded lamely, feeling as if you couldn’t get words out of your mouth. “Yeah, Friday after school works for me.”

“Brilliant.” Remus crumpled up the paper once more and stuffed it into his pocket.

As Remus’ friends appeared by his side and escorted him from the classroom, you had a strange feeling settle in your stomach: you weren’t too sure that you could wait until Friday to talk to him again.

•••

Days came and went, each more meaningful than the next as Friday approached. You had no idea what had you so anxious in your last class. You were bouncing your leg up and down as your distracted eyes scoured the classroom. Lily nudged you a few times, whispering an answer under her breath when the professor called on you.

Nearing the end of class, you and Lily were working on an assignment together when she asked, “What has gotten into you?”

Your brows knit together as you eyed your friend. “Is it that obvious?”

An amused smile tugged at the corners of Lily’s lips. “Is this about Remus?”

“And what if it is?”

“Then I’d say you fancy the boy.”

You nudged Lily, rolling your eyes. “Sod off.”

Lily knew about your not-so-little crush on Remus, even before you had told her aloud. You knew he didn’t feel the same so you constantly checked yourself to make sure your emotions were under control around him. 

So, at the end of the day, you made your way as calmly yet quickly as you could to the library, hoping to spend a little more time with him to justify your feelings. You didn’t see him there when you arrived but you weren’t discouraged, rather you found a secluded desk that just barely gave you a view of the entrance so you could wave him over.

But time kept passing and you kept waiting. You checked the clock above the shelves of books, hoping maybe you screwed up the times, but you didn’t. You then began to ask around to see if it truly was Friday, which it was. And then, worst of all, you began to think that you misheard him and blew him off.

You waited there for a few hours, deciding to make yourself busy with work. You started the project, checking out a few books and developing your thesis.

You tried to work in the library just in case Remus showed, you really did, but everyone was just too loud. Your head pounded and your tiredness overtook you, so you picked up your things and walked down to the hospital wing in hopes of some draught for your pulsing headache.

As you entered the wing, books in hand, you heard faint whispers from familiar voices surrounding a single bed, piquing your interest. You rounded the corner, finding three boys talking to another boy in a bed. Not just any boy, but him.

“Remus?” you asked. 

The three boys whipped around, eyes wide and heads shaking as you approached. “You shouldn’t be here,” James warned.

You ignored him and butt through the crowd to find Remus, asleep and bandaged in his cot. You gasped, staring at the bloodied cloth that was pressed against his cheek. “What happened to him?”

The boys began to mumble excuses, all of which hit your tuned out ears. You frowned, pulling a chair from beside an empty bed to sit next to Remus’s sleeping form. You pulled your bag onto your lap, unloading a few books and papers onto the nightstand.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing, (Y/L/N)?” asked Sirius.

Without looking up, you stated, “We have a project due on Monday and I’m not going to wait to start it.” You finally met the boys’ eyes, yours serious and matter of fact while they were in complete shock. “Besides, I’ll keep Lupin company. Go on, now. I’ll watch him.”

“(Y/L/N)-” James began before Sirius cut him off, eyes wide and nodding.

“No, no, Prongs. Let her stay, Remus will want to see her when he wakes up.”

You pretended not to hear him but your cheeks were dusted with a rosy blush. Sirius clapped you on the back, evoking a small chuckle from you as the boys scooted out of the hospital wing.

As soon as the boys left, you stopped fiddling with the papers in your lap to look up at Remus. You frowned at his scarred face, your hand curling to stop yourself from holding his. He looked so peaceful for the first time in quite a long time, and you realized that you didn’t think you could look away. So you scooted your chair over, freeing your nondominant hand to hold his as you worked on the assignment, a fleet of butterflies occupying your stomach.

You had fallen asleep still holding Remus’s hand later in the night once you had cleared things about your appearance with Pomfrey. You only woke up when you felt someone pulling the papers out of your lap. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing Remus frowning as he held your notebook in one hand and gripped the mattress in the other.

“Did I wake you?” he asked before cursing at himself under his breath. “That was a stupid question, I know I just woke you up.”

You chuckled lightly. “It’s fine, Remus, I should’ve been working on the project anyway.”

The sandy haired boy awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed that you had brought the project up. “Sorry I haven’t been so helpful with that. I ended up...getting into a fight on Friday?”

You furrowed your brow. “I’m sorry, was that a question?”

“Yes…?”

You began to laugh again, but this time Remus joined you. “Well, whatever happened to you, you’re fine now. I’ve been talking to Pomfrey and she assured me you’ll be out of here on Monday.”

“What day is it?”

“Saturday.”

Remus sat up straight in bed, tugging your notebook fully onto his lap. “Shit, well, we need to start this project then.”

•••

Spending the entire weekend with Remus was heavenly. You two worked day in and day out to finish your research paper, editing everything down to the last period before Defense Against the Dark Arts.

As you entered the classroom, you felt a wave of sadness wash over you; no more excuses to be alone with Remus anymore. You frowned, tugging your robes tighter around your body as you imagined what it would be like for him to hold you.

The time came for you two to announce the synopsis of your paper so you stood at the front of the class with him, straightening out your tie with a shy smile. Remus held up the thick stack of papers you two had written up with a proud glance down at you.

“Miss (Y/L/N) and I have written up a paper on the practical applications of Defense theory-”

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor Wallace interrupted, “you do know that— if you were to do practical theory— you have to design a demonstration, yes?”

You looked up at him, a shared expression of panic on both your faces. Remus finally peeled his eyes away from you to shake his head gently at your professor who simply huffed, pointing you back towards your seats. Students began to whisper and giggle at your misfortune, reveling in the sheer schadenfreude that they experienced as yours and Remus’ ears went red with embarrassment.

You could barely pay attention during the rest of the presentations. It ate you up inside how Remus might only remember you as the girl who helped him flunk his project in Defense. You were so consumed by that thought that you didn’t even realize class had ended until Remus tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t know about it either. Don’t be upset,” he whispered. “I hate seeing you upset.”

You flashed a soft smile at him, a warmth blossoming in your chest at his words. You chewed your bottom lip to contain yourself from positively beaming at him as you nodded, feeling more overwhelmed with your feelings for him than before.

“Mr. Lupin and Miss (Y/L/N)?” Professor Wallace called from the head of the classroom as students exited. “Please come here. I’d like to discuss your project.”

That warmth died immediately and was replaced by a crippling fear that started low in your stomach, a void that sucked in all the good things that Remus made you feel. 

Remus hopped up from his chair alongside you and walked up to the desk, his lips pressed in a firm line. “Professor, this was all my fault-”

“What in Merlin’s name are you saying, Remus-” you shot out. Remus was not going to take the blame for you, you wouldn’t let him.

“I wasn’t paying attention. Don’t give Miss (Y/L/N) a poor grade just because of me-”

“Don’t say that! It was my fault, Remus, and you know it-”

“Silence! Both of you! Please!” Professor Wallace’s voice began to falter at your bickering. He rubbed both of his temples with one hand, his eyes clenched shut. “I understand that you were ill over the weekend, Mr. Lupin, and I also understand that being a prefect has its tolls so I’m allowing you lot to make up the assignment.”

You and Remus let out a sigh of relief, exchanging a quick grin at one another.

“We really appreciate it, professor-” As soon as you started, you were cut off.

“But I’m not going to make this easy. You two must stay here over break and there will be more work than before. I want to make sure that you’re really listening to my instructions this time around.”

You desperately wanted to protest but you simply couldn’t; you didn’t quite have the words. You weren’t going home for break in the first place but it seemed rather unnecessary to add more work onto what you had already completed with Remus. Judging from Remus’ knit brows, he was having the same dilemma as well. So you two accepted the assignment, not knowing that that break would be the start of something wonderful and new.

•••

Although the assignment had an increased workload, it was easy to spread out among the two weeks that you were given. The best part of all was that you got to spend time alone with Remus in the castle where there were no more than 20 other students to bother you.

On Christmas night, you sat in front of the fireplace editing your essay as Remus practiced spells on a small paper crane he had folded. You looked up for a moment, smiling at how peaceful and handsome he looked with his sleeves rolled up and shirt untucked.

And, entirely unlike you, the words just...came out of your mouth. “You’re quite handsome like that, you know.”

Remus blushed, his eyebrows raised as he slowly turned his head to face your mortified expression. “I...thanks.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, looking down at your paper again. “Right, yeah.”

But that wasn’t the last time something of that nature happened. Remus told you he was “driven mad” when he saw you practicing your spells for the demonstration, and you promptly told him that he drives you mad, to which you both stopped talking to each other for the rest of the night out of sheer embarrassment.

Perhaps it was the fact that you two were cooped up together for nearly a week and a half then, or perhaps it was the fact that you two had felt something there for quite some time but neither of you had the guts to do anything about it. Either way, both of you were acting entirely stupid around the other, wondering if they knew by now how you felt about them.

The days leading up to your presentation dwindled and so did the time you had to spend with Remus. You assumed that he likely would not want to talk to you afterwards and just want to spend his New Years alone, seeing as how he must be positively sick of you. So you found it rather strange when you finished your (outstanding) project, that Remus settled beside you on the couch in the common room with his old radio so you two could listen to the New Year’s Eve countdown.

“In my town,” he explained, “we used to gather in the center and celebrate New Years. I quite liked it. First year not being there.”

You cowered. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you’re not there now.”

Remus shook his head furiously, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch where you sat. “I wasn’t going home this year anyway. And, besides, (Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who was distracted.”

You crossed your legs and swung around to face Remus, admiring his scars. “You keep talking about being distracted; what were you distracted about in the first place?”

“Funnily enough,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “it was you.”

You snorted and shoved Remus playfully, although he didn’t seem to be smiling. “Come off it, mate.”

“I’m not joking. I remember it because you looked particularly beautiful that day.” Your eyes went wide at his words and you were unable to speak, so he continued on. “You always look beautiful when you take notes. You chew your bottom lip when you write a long sentence down and you give a little nod when you understand something. It’s all very adorable, if you ask me. I couldn’t stop staring at you and Sirius called me out on it.”

You were positive that your face was redder than the fire that illuminated you, your hands sweating as you tried to rub them on your pants as inconspicuous as possible. You could barely focus on anything but your ever-beating heart, pounding ferociously in your chest. The only thing that you could hear above it was the 30 second countdown coming from his radio.

“Have you ever had a New Year’s kiss, Remus?” you asked, your voice just barely louder than the announcer’s.

Remus leaned in closer, his hand inching up to your waist and curling around it. “I haven’t.”

“Neither have I,” you admitted as you crawled up close to him. “But I fear that I’ll be making a rather large mistake if I don’t do this tonight because Merlin knows when I’ll get the courage to do it again.”

“3...2...1! Happy New Year!”

The second the words registered, you held Remus’s face in your hands, pulling him into a long overdue kiss. Your world spun around you as his lips moved perfectly in sync with yours, feeling like they were supposed to be there all along. You pulled away a moment later, placing one last chaste peck as he followed your lips, desperate for more. Remus rested his forehead against yours, his calloused hand running its course down your cheek before he tugged you onto his lap, clasping his hands around your back.

“I have to admit,” you began, “I’ve never been more glad to flunk a project in my life. Starting the New Year this way is good luck, I believe.”

Remus chuckled, pulling you closer to him to plant yet another kiss on your lips. “Well then, love, I suppose we’ll have plenty of good luck this coming year.”

As your heart eased into a steady rhythm and your worries dissipated, you smiled and mumbled against him, “I suppose we can never be too careful.”

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

taglist: @pandaxnienke

[recurring-polynya]

For the Renji birthday prompt: A fic where Renji discovers that he can't go tits out anymore now that he's married (maybe with some jealous Rukia thrown in perhaps)?

I maintain that the new tits-in regime is self-imposed; I present to you my thesis. (I did not attempt to take on The Vest; I assume it came later, and I eagerly await more Vest Lore from Kubo himself)

Warning that I sincerely hope deters absolutely no one: This fic is about boobs. It contains many, many synonyms for boobs. Some of them are rude. 

Read on ao3 or ff.net

---

“I’m telling you, you’re jumping to conclusions. Sometimes he puts them away when he fights. He told me this.”

“I haven’t seen them in weeks.”

“It’s been winter.”

“That has never stopped him before. And it’s April now. Open season. And yet…?”

“I think we should just ask him.”

“You can’t just ask a guy, ‘hey, where did your tits go?’”

“I could, but I refuse. Abarai’s aesthetic is his own business.”

“Since when?”

“Okay, he’s here, someone’s gotta do it.”

“Not it!”

“Also not it!”

“Matsumoto, you have to do it. You’re the one who talked him into letting them hang out in the first place.”

“I agree with Yumichika. Renji knows what he’s doing, and if he has decided that the puppies are off-limits, that’s on him.”

“Hey, guys!” Abarai Renji’s cheerful voice rang out over the din of the bar. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Just means you have to catch up quick!” Rangiku declared, pouring him some sake.

“No missus tonight?” Shuuhei asked.

Renji’s entire face went pink and he got the same moony look in his eyes he always got whenever someone mentioned his wife or his marital state generally. “She sends her regards and says I’m supposed to drink extra for her. She goes over to the Manor on Wednesday evenings now to hang out with her brother.”

“Have you actually managed to call him by his given name yet?” Iba asked. “Now that you’re related?”

“His given name is ‘Captain’ and I call him that all the time,” Renji replied snottily.

“So. Renji,” Izuru said, leaning forward on his elbow. “Are you doing something different? With your look? I feel like there’s something different about you.”

Renji’s face lit up. “You noticed!” He swung his head around, his long braid swinging over his shoulder. “I’ve started braiding it!”

“Oh, no, it’s permanent?” Yumichika moaned.

“That’s not new,” Iba scoffed. “You slept with it like that the whole time we were roommates. I just figured that you didn’t have time to fix your hair in the morning anymore because you were too busy taking care--oof!”

“It looks very nice, Renji!” Momo said sweetly, extracting her elbow from Iba’s rib cage.

“It’s different,” Renji glowered at Iba. “I braid it loosely at night to prevent breakage and lock in moisture. This is an action braid.” He wheeled on Yumichika. “And I’m only French braiding it for now, because it’s shorter in front than in the back, you know, because of the accident. Once I’ve grown it out to all one length again, I’ll just do a regular braid.”

“You could just cut it to the length of the shortest part and go back to the pineapple hair,” Ikkaku suggested. “I always liked the pineapple hair.”

Renji turned pink again. “Ah, well. Rukia likes it long.”

“Yeah, I don’t think the braid is… what I was thinking of,” Izuru soldiered on.

Renji sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “I got a new tattoo? A pair, actually.”

“Oh! Did you?”

“On your chest?” Shuuhei asked hopefully. A healing tattoo would be a good excuse to cover up.

“Nah, on my thighs.”

Izuru sighed. “Since when do I look at your thighs, Abarai?”

“I have good thighs, Izuru.”

“He probably just looks different because he’s so happy now,” Rangiku suggested. “By which I mean getting your back blown out every night.”

“That could be it!” Renji agreed cheerfully. “Oh, I was wearing a scarf for a while there, when we had that cold snap! Is it the scarf? Or maybe the lack of scarf? It’s a nice scarf, Captain gave it to me for a wedding present. He says a man of quality should own a scarf.”

“I give up,” Izuru sighed.

“Hey, jocks, what’s going on?” a new voice interrupted.

“Akon!” half the table chorused and Renji scooted over so Akon could slide in next to him.

“Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, sorry, I had an experiment I wanted to get finished up.”

“We were just talking about how there’s something different about Renji,” Shuuhei pressed.

Akon surveyed Renji for a moment. “Well, he’s got his tits tucked in for once. Aren’t you hot? You told me once you did that for ventilation.”

“That was very much a lie,” Renji clarified. “And I’m a married man now, my cans are closed for business. Speaking of which, Rangiku, fill ‘er up again, please, I’ve gotta keep up my wife’s reputation.”

---

Momo couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Out of their entire friend group, she was pretty sure she was the least interested in Renji’s… bosoms. There was a time… long, long ago when she had thought he was pretty hot stuff. She still counted him among her closest friends and favorite people, but had long ago come to the conclusion that big and beefy just wasn’t her type.

“Why, Lieutenant Hinamori! What brings you to my office?” Acting Captain Kuchiki Rukia leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. She must have been practicing, because the last time Momo had seen her do that, she had nearly fallen backwards out of the chair.

Momo sighed. “I have to tell you, this isn’t business.” Not exactly. It sort of was, in the sense that Shuuhei and Matsumoto (who apparently did care very much about Renji’s chest situation, so long as she wasn’t the one who had to confront him about it) had come over and dramatically draped themselves all over the Squad 5 couch and complained about the dreary state of affairs to Captain Hirako until he ordered Momo to go do some investigating.

“Good, because I have been filling out Nanao’s new skills-inventory-for-seated-officer forms all morning and I’m about to lose it,” Rukia said with an overly cheerful grin.

“We could go out to the yard and fight?” Momo offered hopefully. Maybe she could tell Captain Hirako that she got distracted and forgot to ask about Renji.

Rukia’s face fell a little. “Er, I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t today. Sentarou just made me this pot of tea, though. Do you want some? It’s lemon ginger, it’s really good.”

“Sure,” Momo agreed.

“So what’s up?” Rukia asked again, once Momo was perched in the guest chair, a fragrant cup of tea cradled in her hands.

Well, might as well just rip the bandage off. “I need you to know that I was put up to this by… you know. The idiots. The cowards we go drinking with.”

“Understood,” Rukia agreed.

“There is… some concern… about your husband.”

Rukia’s eyebrows shot up. “My sweet pumpkin pants?”

“I’m leaving,” Momo announced.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Rukia waved her hands, laughing. “I’ll be serious. What has that lunkhead done now?”

“This is so dumb,” Momo muttered. She cleared her throat. “He’s stopped going around with his bazongas hanging out all the time, and everyone’s losing their minds over it.”

Rukia stared at her. “Excuse me, his what?”

Momo made a vague gesture at her own chest. “You know. His… boobies.”

“That’s what I thought you meant,” Rukia nodded, her brow creased in thought. “Bazongas. I like that.”

“Not that I care!” Momo excused. “I mean, I agree, he should be allowed to dress how he likes, but you two seem to have a very equitable relationship and I said that I was sure he wasn’t doing anything that he hadn’t agreed to--”

“Hold on,” Rukia interrupted. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“You didn’t?” Momo asked. “He said he was keeping them tucked in because he was married now. We assumed it was at your request.”

“I didn’t even know!” Rukia replied. “I mean, I came home yesterday, and he was just--” she made a hand gesture like she was pulling her kosode open, “--completely out--”

“I don’t need to hear this,” Momo begged.

“Well, I tell you I had nothing to do with it,” Rukia assured her. “No one is more supportive of Renji acting slutty in public than me. Everyone knows I have that locked down, and honestly, it just makes me seem more powerful.”

Momo squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to punch Shuuhei so hard.”

Rukia rubbed her index finger over her chin. “It’s possible this came down from Brother…”

Momo whimpered, although, honestly, having a conversation with the other Captain Kuchiki about Abarai’s pectorals couldn’t possibly be more awkward than this.

“...or it might be… something else.” Rukia frowned. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“You will?” Momo asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I can’t promise to bring the jugs back, but I’ll make sure it’s just Renji being a doofus and not Renji hiding his anxieties under aesthetic choices or Renji being oppressed by his brother-in-law.”

“Thank you, Rukia,” Momo said. Rukia could be bossy at times, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Sometimes, Renji has to be bullied into taking care of himself.”

“You’re telling me!” Rukia exclaimed. “Thank you for caring about him,” she added warmly.

“For the record, I care about him,” Momo replied. “Everyone else just misses the view.”

“Noted,” Rukia replied.

---

Renji had his nose stuffed in his cookbook, which lately, wasn’t a good sign. Renji only owned one cookbook, an encyclopedic tome that he only cracked open when he was trying something new or otherwise wasn’t sure what he was doing.

“I hope you aren’t making that kale curry again,” Rukia noted dryly.

Renji jumped three feet in the air. “Aaah, shoot! Rukia! I didn’t hear you come in! I’m so sorry!”

Rukia hopped up on her kitchen stool and leaned across the counter to give him a kiss. “We’ve been married for four months now. You don’t have to greet me at the door every single day, you know.”

“Sixteen weeks, three days,” Renji replied. “And I can still be sorry about it.”

“Just tell me we’re having something normal for dinner, and I’ll forgive you,” Rukia replied.

Renji jerked a thumb toward the stove behind him. “I made oden,” he explained. “It’s simmering, probably’ll be another ten minutes.”

“Ohhhhhh, I love your oden!” Rukia stretched her arms across the counter and did grabby hands at his hands until he laced his fingers through hers. “Did you make enough for me to take some for lunch tomorrow?”

“Depends on how much you eat tonight,” he replied. “Your appetite’s been really hit or miss lately.”

“Yeah, well...” Rukia agreed. “So what’s with the cookbook, then?”

“Oh,” Renji said vaguely. “I’m thinking about learning to bake cookies?”

“I’m in favor of that,” Rukia agreed, although her mind immediately went back to the conversation she’d had with Momo that afternoon.

“I’m not sure this book is helping,” Renji admitted. “If I was any good at baking, it would be one thing, but it’s too different. I’ve always been better at learning stuff from other people. Do you think it would be weird if I asked Iba’s mom to teach me? She used to make these little sesame biscuits for Iba. I would always steal them from him. They were so good and he didn’t properly appreciate them anyway.”

“It would absolutely be weird, and I think you should do it anyway,” Rukia proclaimed. She paused. “But maybe you could wait a few more weeks until we tell everyone we’re pregnant so all your friends will stop asking me what’s wrong with you.”

Renji’s eyes widened. “Did your brother say something last night? Because he told me he liked the braid!”

Rukia snorted. “No. He’s worse than you are anyway, he’s been reading books. Please make him stop, if you can. Actually, I’ve been getting complaints about,” she circled a finger in the vicinity of Renji’s chest.

Renji glanced down, and realized that his kosode was still neatly folded up to his collarbone. “Oops, sorry! I told you I didn’t hear you come home.” He immediately began untucking it.

Rukia leaned her chin on her palm, watching his progress. “I realize that making emotionally constipated people face their feelings is usually your department, but it seems you’ve got something heavy rattling around in there. Wanna talk about it?”

Renji’s eyes slid to one side. “Talk about what?”

Rukia cocked an eyebrow and waited.

Renji heaved a sigh. “Do you remember that time, back in Inuzuri, the first time I used my reiatsu in public? When I blocked a lead pipe with my arm?”

Rukia almost choked. “What do you mean, do I remember it? Of course I remember it.”

“Well, not so much that, but do you remember afterward, when you said I was too big and mean to be a sneakthief anymore? That it was better to confront the world and show it what we were made of?”

“I do remember that. I did not call you mean.”

“You probably didn’t. It’s probably just something I thought about myself.” He looked pensive for a moment. “In any case, it was something I really took to heart, especially after we split up. At first, I just wanted to make myself as big and loud and scary as possible. I liked the way people shied away from me. Later on, after I started hanging out with Yumichika, I realized that walking around sexy could be intimidating in a different sort of way, and I liked that, too.”

Rukia had a comment for that, but she decided to just listen, instead.

Renji smoothed the page of his book with his fingers. “I don’t want to look scary anymore.”

“You don’t look scary,” Rukia reassured him. “You haven’t looked scary in a long time.”

“I want to do better than that, though,” Renji frowned. “Has your brother ever talked to you about his dad?”

Rukia blinked, surprised, mostly that Byakuya had talked about Soujun with Renji. “A few times.”

“I, uh, asked him what his dad was like. Since I never had one myself. I expected him to either blow me off or start bellyaching, like he does about his granddad, but he didn’t. He said his pop was very gentle and kind. He said he was a good dad.”

“Byakuya loved his father a lot.”

“Yeah, that was pretty clear.”

“I hope he finished by saying what a good father you will make, but it’s my brother, so I’m sure he didn’t.”

“He said something about how he was sure I would proceed in my own way.”

Rukia sighed again. “Renji, you’ll be a great dad. It’s super obvious. I’ve only told half a dozen people that I’m pregnant and all of them who aren’t Byakuya have immediately reacted with ‘Renji is going to be such a good dad.’ You don’t need to change anything about yourself.”

Renji sucked his teeth for a moment. “Well, all my good dad instincts are telling me our kid is gonna wanna fight the world bad enough as it is, that the last thing they need is a dad who wants to fight the world, too. I’ve fought the world long enough. I’m probably never gonna be gentle, but I can try my best to be kind, and I can dress like a normal person in public for a change and… maybe I can make a cookie? It’s worth a try, I think.”

Rukia flashed him a sad, but fond smile. “You’re such a dork. A sweet, thoughtful dork, though, and I will support your experiment, even though you know I love your bazongas more than anyone.”

“‘Bazongas’? Oh no, did those assholes make Momo come and talk to you?”

Rukia shrugged and tried to look innocent.

“Anyway, you’re my wife, I will take them out for you whenever you want.”

“Yay!”

Renji furrowed his brow into its “determined” configuration. “Do not get me wrong. I am actually upping my chest day routine. I am going to keep them immaculate, and when my shirt gets ripped off in a fight, people are going to lose their minds over how lush my boys are.”

“I love you so much,” Rukia replied.

[amor-immortalem]

My Adoring Fan Chapter 8

chapter 7

Arella was busying herself with housework that needed to be done. From picking up scattered toys that their youngest hadn’t put away before his brother had taken him out for the day to finishing up laundry from the previous night- she needed something to do to distract herself from worrying too much about her husband. It was just one of his bad days where he couldn’t focus on things very well and the world just didn’t feel real to him. He had moved past the incident that brought their oldest child into their life but the effects of the trauma he endured still plagued him from time to time. It was rare for an episode to be this bad however. He hadn’t had one on this scale since their twins were four. He would get better in a few days; all he needed was rest.

As she turned to pull the clothes out of the dryer, she could hear her phone ringing. Reading the caller id, she sighed as she picked up.

“Azalea, you had better be ringing me for a nonsense reason and not because you’re in Lord Diavolo’s office and I need to come down to get you.” Arella said in a whisper. With the condition he was in today, the last thing she wanted was Mammon hearing her and getting himself worked up.

“Well... at least I’m not in the office this time... but I did get kicked outta homeroom.” The girl said. “Can ya come pick us up... please?”

“Who is ‘us’, darling?”

“Me, ’Relius, Max, and Zulima. We had a good reason this time, Mum, I promise.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Let me see if Dad needs anything and then I’ll be on my way.” After they said goodbye and hung up, Arella stared at her phone. “My stars, I wonder what happened for Aurelius, Max, and Zulima to get kicked out of class as well.” She went into the bedroom to check on her husband. “I have to go get the twins, Zulima, and Max from RAD. Do you need anything before I leave?” She asks as she rubs his shoulder.

Mammon only shakes his head as he looks at the clock. “It’s 8:30 in the morning. What the hell happened?” He starts to sit up but Arella just places a hand on his chest.

“Just stay in bed and rest, Dear. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I’ll handle it when I find out, okay?”

“Fine.” He lets out a sigh. “Let me know when you find out, please.”

“I will. I’ll see you in a bit. I love you.”

“Love ya too, Treasure. Drive safely.”

After that brief exchange, Arella grabbed the keys and left for RAD.

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

“So, I want you to tell me exactly what got the four of you kicked out.” Arella asks as she drives them back to their home. “And no lies, please.”

“Well,” Azalea started wondering where exactly she should start, “It all started when I came into class a half-hour late... apparently the old hag took exception ta that. She called me out on bein’ late ‘n I mouthed back ‘n next thing ya know she’s calling me a brat ‘n stupid ‘n forgetful ‘n a delinquent ‘n spoiled- which ta be fair, she’s not wrong ‘bout some of that stuff... but then she took it a step further by callin’ me a half-breed ‘n tryin’ ta take my cane claimin’ it was a weapon so I couldn’t have it on my person ‘cuz -ya know- all the fights ‘n shit I get inta.”

“And then when we tried to stand up for ‘Zay,” Zulima began, “She turned her sights on us.”

“She called us trash and abominations on top of calling us that stupid slur too.” Aurelius leans his head against the passenger side window.

“She said she’s going to write all four of us up saying it was her word against ours so it’s probably going to be wildly fabricated.” Max says as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I have most of the exchange recorded, if you want to listen to it Mrs. Morningstar.”

“I would love to hear it, Max, thank you.” Arella stopped the car, having arrived at home. “We’ll listen to it now.” Max pulled out her D.D.D. and played back the audio. About half way through, Arella’s jaw dropped in surprise. “And she speaks to the three of you this way on a regular basis?” The three half-demons nodded. “And what about you, Max?”

“This is the first time she’s ever said anything like this to me.” The human frowned.

“And it’ll be the last time too if I have anything to do with it. Azalea, is this why you were always late to your homeroom hour last term, honey?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m tired of bein’ berated ‘n called slurs and insults for an hour... I bet if she was the teacher in any of m’classes, I would have flunked them...”

“We all are,” Zulima says as she hugged herself tighter. “And whenever we try to defend ourselves or each other, she takes it out on us in the one other class we have with her. She almost failed me in world language claiming an airhead like me couldn’t have written such a high-level thesis in Latin of all languages, Auntie. I worked so hard with Uncle Satan on that thesis too! I felt so horrible.”

“And me in potions as well,” Max sighed. “And she gave me the wrong ingredients so I would be assured to fail.”

“I was this close,” Aurelius pinches his fingers together as he talks, “to flunking her Curses and Hexes course last term. I’m telling you, Mum, she’s an absolute witch of a demon. I think if Lord Diavolo hadn’t looked into it himself after I talked with Uncle Lucifer that I would have failed. Her excuse was that when it came to the end of term exam, mine was the last that she graded and she ‘accidentally’ used the wrong key.”

Arella had a look of realization on her face. “I know exactly who this teacher is. She absolutely hated me and your father. She was our curses and hexes teacher too.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “She never did anything too extreme because we shared a class with three of your uncles and if word ever got back to Uncle Lucifer, she knew there would be hell to pay.”

“So she takes it out on us because of you and Dad?” Aurelius looks over at his mother. “That’s pretty shitty.”

“Not to mention, she’s a racist and a xenophobe on top of it all,” Zulima growled in disgust. “How ugly.”

“Let’s go in now. Please be quiet when you walk in. Dad’s having one of his episodes and it's really bad this time so let him rest. I’ll make lunch in a bit.”

All of the kids nodded as they got out and headed into the house. Immediately Azalea pulled max around giving her a tour of the house while Zulima went up to Azalea’s room to make herself comfortable and wait for Aurelius to stop by his room to grab some spell books so the three of them could work on their magical studies together since there wasn’t really anything else to do.

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

As the house tour came to a close Max and Azalea climbed the stairs headed up to the second level where the bedrooms were located.

“You’re having a much better time with the stairs now; I’m starting to notice.” Max says quietly.

“Yeah, I still have trouble with the ones in my room though. With these, the steps are more closed off where the ones in my room have that opening between each step, ya know? With these types of stairs, I can jus’ slide my foot forward until it hits the base of the next step and that way, I can know how far my foot is out and whether it's safe ta step up without bein’ afraid I might slip.”

The human nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Makes sense.”

As they passed through the hall and by Azalea’s parents’ room, Mammon called out to her. “’Zalea come in here please. I wanna talk to ya ‘bout what happened at school.”

“Are ya sure? I know yer havin’ one of them bad days...”

“It’s fine. C’mere please.” Mammon says as he sits up on the bed and runs a hand through his hair.

Max hands Azalea her D.D.D. figuring Mammon might want to hear what was said before heading straight down the to her girlfriend’s room where the other two teens were waiting on them.

“Please tell me you didn’t get yourself and the others kicked out of class because of a fight.” The demon asks as his daughter climbs up next to him on the bed.

“I didn’t. Not this time. The teacher just had a stick up her ass ‘cuz I was late for homeroom... And then things escalated from there. Ta be fair, I kinda had some fault in it ‘cuz I got mouthy with ‘er but still she said somethings... And she then told me ta get outta her class... The others stood up for me ‘n that’s why they got kicked out too.”

“What kinda things?”

“It’s easier if I jus’ play the audio Max took of the exchange.” The half-demon unlocks the phone and plays the audio for her father. She watches him carefully just to see his reaction. It’s not any different from her mother’s except she can feel anger rising within him.

“I can’t believe she’s still workin’ for the school... If I’m rememberin’ her voice correctly, I know exactly who that is and she was decrepit when yer uncles and I were students there. There wasn’t nothin’ I could do right with ‘er. And this has been every day since ya entered this year?” Azalea only nods at his question. “I’m sorry ya gotta go through that, kiddo. We’ll take care of this for ya. Ya know none of that horrible stuff she said ‘bout y’all is true, right?”

“Yeah... but it still bites when people say it.” Azalea leans her head on Mammon’s chest, tucking herself up under his arm as he pulls her into a side hug. “Like all we’ve ever done is just exist and both demons and humans won’t even let us do that! There’s always somethin’ they got a problem with! It's unfair. We’re not demon enough to live here in the Devildom and not human enough to live in the human world. It’s like we don’t belong in either realm. Like we don’t get to be.... happy.”

Mammon would only hug his daughter tighter as he tucked her head under her chin. He wanted things to be different. It always broke his heart to hear his own children- even his nieces and nephews- talk like this. It all stemmed from the oldest generation of demons too- the ones that had existed even before he and his brothers had lost the war, fell from grace, and became demons. The ones that remembered what it was like long before Diavolo started pushing for peace between the three realms, long before the exchange program. Just like the humans they looked down upon, they were just as resistant to change, passing down their ideology to their offspring and so on and so forth as time went on. And the Devildom was doing just that- changing in many ways. From the exchange program that started over 20 years ago that was still going to this day to the advances in technology that put them on par with the human world... as much as the elderly demons might protest it, they couldn’t stop it. Once they all had kicked the bucket, the Avatar of Greed hoped things would get better. They had to.

And the youngest generation was proof of this- unpoisoned by their great grandparents’ and grandparents’ beliefs, Mammon could see how eager they were to accept the changes and the fact that half demons were becoming more frequent among the Devildom's elite- even if his kids themselves couldn’t see it themselves just yet.

As they sat in silence, the demon began purring- not in a way that showed contentment, but rather a deep rumbling purr that resonated through his chest that was often used when a demon was comforting themselves or their young when they were hurt or scared or ill or just upset in anyway shape or form. For his children, it often calmed them enough to put them to sleep for at least a few hours- more if they were sick and needed the rest. It always worked most for Azalea even back when she a baby, especially when she was this worked up and upset about something. He misses those days. The days when the twins and even Cyrus weren’t yet aware of things like racism or discrimination or hatred. Part of Mammon wishes all three of them could have just stayed that age forever.

As the half-demon was falling asleep, she tucked herself closer to her father mumbling a soft “Love you, Papa...” before she was out completely.

“Love ya too, my little Magpie.” He smiles softly before yawning and settling back down for a nap himself.

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

find more on my masterlist

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Worthy (pt4)

Author’s note: I am crappy at tagging people. Inbox me if you want to be added, and just keep poking me if I keep forgetting to add you. <3  @rampant-salamander @bolontiku​

I had to wonder if the powers from Thor’s hammer included allowing me to disappear into the floor so I would not have to face the source of my embarrassment again. I wanted to slam the bathroom door and lock it and hide until Thor left. But I somehow guessed his sense of chivalry would be too great to just leave me to die of embarrassment and he would do something stupid, like breaking down the door, to ensure I was okay, instead of just understanding I needed to lick my wounds in private. Particularly when he thought humans were prudish about nudity. Did they walk around in Thor-land buck naked all the time? I mean, if they all looked like Thor that might not be a bad thing. I was far too conscious of my lumps and cellulite and stretch marks to be okay with joining them in the nude party though. 

I dropped the towel and looked at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror, trying to guess what he must have thought when he hauled me off the floor. I was pale. I’d been far too busy finishing my thesis to be out in the sun in the spring, and it was obvious by the way my arms were the same fish belly white as my stomach. The time spent in the lab showed on my tummy and hips and thighs, all of which were broader than they’d ever been before. My roommate had said curvier was a nicer word, but I knew exactly how many slices of pizza had contributed to each new curve, and the fact that none of that skin had seen the sun in months made me feel bigger. I couldn’t lie and say I was completely unsatisfied with my body. I was just bigger than I’d been, and more uncomfortable in my skin. I’d promised myself I’d find some sort of activity to balance with my work life, for no other reason than for my health. I just didn’t buy into hating myself because I didn’t belong on the pages of a magazine. My body housed my brain, and my brain was pretty awesome. The rest was just packaging and resources for keeping my brain safe and at optimal function. But that was what I thought. I cast a critical eye on myself trying to figure out what Thor would have thought seeing me bare-assed on the floor. Given his impatience with my modesty, he probably hadn’t thought much at all.

I pulled my pyjamas on, and had to laugh at myself. The spaghetti strapped tank-top and boxer shorts didn’t cover much more than my towel had. But I couldn’t cross the living room again to find something else if I ever wanted to get rid of the man-god sitting in my living room.

I steeled my courage and opened the bathroom door. He’d figured out how to turn on my television, and had stopped on what appeared to be a documentary about the Avengers Initiative. He laughed at the television and shook his head, then clicked it off when he realized I’d come into the room. 

“Do you want something to drink?” I offered.

“I rather think you do not wish for me to stay that long, Ella Carmichael.” He pushed himself off the couch and walked into the kitchen where I was refilling my wine glass.

“You know, you can just call me Ella. It’s weird to use someone’s first and last name,” I commented. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink? I hate to drink alone.” I held the bottle up in offering. I could see him hesitate for a moment, probably contemplating the honour involved in drinking wine or something.

“If you insist,” he smirked. I poured him a glass and came around the kitchen island to hand it to him. When he took the glass from me, he narrowed his eyes and took my wrist into his hand. He turned it over, palm facing up and ran his thumb across it. I’m not ashamed to admit I got goosebumps; it was more intimate than I’d been touched in recent memory. 

“Have you always had that mark?” I realized he was running his thumb around my left hand in a pattern. I looked down, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“I can’t see any mark.” I pulled my hand away and held it under the bright light over the island. Nothing. Thor took my hand again and looked closer, and traced the design out again on my palm. He was seeing something that I was not. He dropped my hand and picked up the hammer from where he’d placed it on the floor by my front door. He put it carefully down on the granite countertop of the island, and pointed at a big fancy three pointed knot on the face of the hammer.

“This is called a triquetra. It is also on your hand. I would know how long it has been there,” he explained. I shrugged.

“Well, I can’t see anything at all. But that’s the hand I picked up myewlnor with. Maybe it left a mark?” I knew I was completely butchering the name of the hammer, but god knows I couldn’t remember how to say it.

“Mjolnir.” Of course he would correct me.

“Mee-owl-neer?” I tried again.

“Mjolnir.”

“M-yol-neer.” I was reasonably sure I had it right that time. He nodded, and took my right hand in his, flipping the palm up. He traced his thumb around in the same pattern.

“It’s on this hand as well. This is a mystery. I do not know you well, Ella, but Tony seems to think you quite intelligent. Intelligence is not all there is to worth. But it is perhaps somewhere to start,” He pondered. I bit my lip.

“I don’t know how you judge worthiness where you’re from, but I’m not anything special. I don’t run around rescuing kittens from trees, or saving maidens from dragons, or curing cancer. I can’t even donate blood. I have some weird antibody.” I protested. Thor’s mouth cocked to one side in a grin.

“I have never done those things myself, and yet I am worthy. I will speak to my father,” he determined. He finished his glass of wine.

“You appear well. Your colour has come back, and you no longer show the signs of shock. I bid you good rest, Ella Carmichael. Thank you for sharing your libation with me, and for indulging my concern,” he bowed his head a little, hefted the hammer and turned. I followed him to the door. He turned as he crossed the threshold and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I will bring news once I have more understanding of what has happened.”

XXX 

“So Thor saw me naked last night.” It was quite possibly the best first-line I’ve ever had. And I got to drop it on Angela as we walked through the build-a-Belgian-waffle line. She dropped her fork on the floor with a loud clatter.

“What? Naked? How?”

“Well, it all started when I had no clothes on,” I began.

“Seriously, Ella. What happened?” She demanded.

“Seriously. I was taking a bath and he knocked on the door. I figured it was you with the passcard, even though I’d said it could wait. So I wrapped my uber-skimpy-Stark-Industries-micro-towel around me, figuring I’d be opening the door a crack and accepting a passcard from you. He was at the door. And he just invited himself in, plain as you like. Said he was concerned about me,” I started. Angela shook her head, and as we walked through the waffle decorating station, I finished filling in all the details. 

Once we were seated at a table, she took one of my hands and looked at it.

“I don’t see it either,” she sighed. “Do you suppose he has weird powers that let him see through things? Maybe that’s why he didn’t care that you were naked. Maybe he sees all of us as naked all the time.”

“You’re confusing him with Superman,” I laughed. “He has x-ray vision.”

“Superman is a comic book character! Thor is real! Who knows what all his powers are.” She cut her waffle up and started in on it. I pushed my waffle around the plate a little and drank my coffee. I didn’t like waffles. At all. I ate the mountain of fruit I’d piled on top of it, but couldn’t bring myself to get into the waffle itself.

“Well, not making a big deal about naked women is one of them. He made it clear he thought my prudishness was weird.”

“He’s weird. Most men would be hard pressed to not scope you out, regardless of how cool they tried to appear,” she stated, and then made a gesture that looked a little like jazz-hands. “Oh-em-gee! Boobies! Play it cool, dude. Play it cool, and she won’t cover up and then?  More Boobies!” Her fake-guy voice was hilarious.

I snorted on my coffee. “I’m hardly in peak physical condition. He probably was just horrified by the wiggly bits and stretch marks.”

“I don’t think they see past the boobies, to be completely honest,” she laughed. I shook my head and finished my fruit. I’d effectively smushed up the waffle until it looked like I’d eaten some of it. 

“What is on the agenda for me today, boss?” I changed the topic and drank my coffee. Angela pulled out a tablet and flicked through it.

“More orientation stuff. We’re going to go to distribution, and learn how to requisition things for your project. And how to req for your apartment too. And how different the two forms are and how important it is to make sure you use the right form,” she started. “Here’s a hint. The importance of using the correct form is inversely proportional to how similar the forms are to one another. You won’t believe that will take most of the morning, but it will. Then you’re seeing Markus after lunch.”

“Can I order bigger towels from distribution? Because the towels in my apartment are ridiculously small.”

“I don’t think so. But you can also requisition outside items from your in-suite purchasing app. Or I can just take you to Macy’s after work,” she suggested. “Are you not going to eat the waffle?”

“Confession?” I made a face. She nodded. “I hate waffles. They’re like a pancake with a skin disease. Disgusting.”

“I take back every nice thing I said about you. Waffles are amazing. Those are flavour pouches.” The look on her face was enough to make me bite my lip to prevent the laughter from slipping free. She was gripping her table knife like she might actually stab me. It would be a sticky ignominious death by maple syrup.

“Flavour pustules, maybe. So gross. I’m more of a bacon and eggs girl,” I admitted. Angela shook her head, her eyes cast downward in disappointment. She finally cracked the tiniest grin.

“Damn good thing you’re funny. Because that might be a deal-breaker otherwise. Come on. Bus your table. Let’s get you off to distribution so you can learn about the pedantry of requisitions.” She winked and grabbed her tray, leading the way over to the kitchen cart before directing us back to the elevator.

Distribution might not have been mired down in red tape, bureaucracy and shenanigans if they’d had a single window. But they were located in a sub-level of the building, below the parkade, completely walled in. There was a single door in, and it was right beside the loading bay. The staff kind of looked like they were a lost race of mole people. They were pale, suspicious of visitors and seemed a little paranoid that the rest of the company was out to make their lives miserable on purpose. The main stock clerk all but hissed at us when we came in. 

Angela made quick work of running through the requisition forms. There was a single line that delineated personal requisitions from project reqs, and it was required for payroll deduction where appropriate. It was fair enough, but wouldn’t it have been simpler just to colour code the forms? I asked Angela as much and she clamped her hand over my mouth.

“Do you want to be barred from ordering things? Don’t rock the boat!” She hissed. “If you can control yourself, I want to show you heaven. This is the one thing that distribution does right.” She led me over to a table that had a pile of different catalogues on it. “This is the only part of Stark Industries that is still analogue because catalogues are so much easier than websites. And here’s where your colour coding idea comes into play. Blue catalogues are filled with workplace supplies, divided by shade of blue. The light blue cover is office supplies; the dark blue cover is electrical doodads, etc. You’ll learn them as you need to. The yellow covers are personal items. Light yellow is Stark Industries branded stuff. I do most of my Christmas shopping in the light yellow. My dad has a thing for polo shirts and golf balls. Goldenrod is household items that are covered by your living allowance. Stuff like bedding, kitchen utensils, towels. I think there’s a surround sound upgrade in there.” She handed me a pencil and flipped the Goldenrod covered catalogue open to bathroom stuff. The towel page was dog-eared. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who hated the mini-towels that came standard in the room. I filled in a requisition for towels and a plush bathrobe. 

Angela brought me back to the stock clerk’s desk and walked me through the process for submitting the order. It was complicated. I almost expected to need to know a secret handshake to complete the transaction.

“So that should all be delivered before the day is over.” She led me back out of the department. True to her word, the distribution department and requisition in-service had taken us almost to lunch. We stepped off the elevator on the floor for my research division. “I figured I’d show you your desk before we eat lunch.”

We rounded a corner into the lab area. The space was wide open, from window to window. There were workstations at the periphery of the room. I assumed the conspicuously empty one was mine, but Angela walked right past it to a desk that was covered in stuff. There was a pile of paperwork on one corner that at first glance I thought was probably the information relating to my proposals. The desk itself was one of the Stark Industries touch responsive computers that I’d been desperate to try since the first time I saw one. The monitor was carefully suspended from the ceiling, keeping the desk as clear as possible. On the far side of the desk was a small cactus with a little plastic welcome stick pressed into the dirt, and a box of office supplies.

Angela made quick work of logging me into the computer. The log in sequence unlocked the desk drawers, so I was able to clear my desktop with one sweep of my arm into the top drawer. Angela sucked in her breath in response to the action.

“I will organize myself later. For now, that desk needs to be clear, if I’m ever going to work at it,” I explained. She grabbed the cactus protectively and held it away from my reach. 

“Promise you won’t hurt the plant,” she demanded. 

“Sure,” I agreed. She put the plant back down and disappeared across the lab, quickly returning with what looked like a shelf. While I watched, she mounted it to the window behind my desk. How she did it was a mystery, it looked like it was just hanging there. Some sort of mysterious Stark Tech, I suppose. She took the cactus and placed it on the corner of the shelf, her shoulders square in defiance of my otherwise blasé organizational skills. As though she already knew that I wasn’t going to organize my desk drawers later. I looked over at the desk beside me and saw that all the way down the bank of windows, there were shelves mounted against the windows, holding the various personal treasures of the employees assigned to each desk. My shelf looked kind of boring with just the cactus on it.

“Okay, let’s get lunch. You’ve got your meeting with Markus in 45 minutes.” Angela steered me back out of the lab and over to the elevator.

[ateezmakemeweep]

dom!jongho 

word count: 6k

smut 

request: @songsoomin

you had nothing but nice things to say about your neighbors across the hall. the three boys, yunho, san and wooyoung, were just about the happiest people you had ever met.

they had welcomed you with open arms, brought over wine and brownies and filled you in on all of the gossip and best places to eat. it's when you first heard about your next door neighbor, the one you still have yet to see a month into moving in.

but, oh, do you hear him.

hear the distinct, obvious noise of a headboard smacking against the wall and the loud, dramatic moans of "oh, jongho!" being cried out. and the first time you hadn't thought much of it, even thought 'good for him, at least someone's getting laid.'

but after the fifth consecutive night of hearing it, the pitches and tones sounding very much like different voices, you were convinced he was a scumbag.

"a scumbag?" wooyoung says, refilling your glass of wine even though you're already far too tipsy. "ouch, y/n."

"oh c'mon," you slur, "i've been here for a month and i've heard his escapades more nights than i haven't."

"but a man has needs," san pouts, stretching out on your floor as all the alcohol hits him at once.

"and a girl needs sleep!" you squeal, "i haven't even seen the fuckers face but i already know far too much about how big his-"

"oh, my god, no!" yunho yelps, throwing his hands out in front of him. "y/n, please spare us. we actually have to hang out with him and look him in the face."

they had told you all about their monthly dinners, each of them cooking a dish and swapping which apartment hosts. they had invited you to the next one that first day they met you and you had agreed; but now, after hearing all you've heard and already disliking someone you've never met, you're having some hesitations.

"so will she because she's coming tomorrow," wooyoung whines, your eyes narrowing at the boy as you shake your head.

"no. nope. no chance," you insist, throwing your wine back in a very impolite fashion. "i refuse to look at that man whore."

"hey! we don't slut-shame in this house!"

you can only roll your eyes at san's words, knowing damn well if the circumstances were reversed, a group of men would have a whole lot to say about a woman having a different person at her house every night.

and it wasn't even the fact that he was having loud, obnoxious sex with different people (okay, maybe it was a little bit). but it was more about the fact that these women might be walking in with the assumption that he was gonna wake them with breakfast and treat them dignity and respect. not replace her with a different face just twelve hours later so he can hear the same shit over and over again.

because it's shit you hear over and over again and you decide that when you finally do meet him, you're gonna give him a piece of your mind.

that day doesn't come until a few weeks later, purposely going out to dinner with your coworkers so you miss the neighborly dinner party that wooyoung was sure to text you angrily about.

you come barreling through your apartment complex from the rain, running toward the open elevator as your umbrella drips onto the floor. "wait! hold it, please!" you squeal, desperate to just flop on to your couch and never get up again.

but the elevator door just slams in your face, quickly catching the sight of a stocky man in a brown leather jacket with black hair. you let out a frustrated groan, cursing at him under your breath before clicking the up button impatiently.

it's when you make your way up to your floor five minutes later that you see the familiar brown leather, his figure standing in front of the apartment door next to yours and you can't help but let out a laugh.

of fucking course that would be him.

you stomp toward your apartment, having every intention to continue ignoring him until you hear his deep voice greet you.

"oh, hey. you must be the new neighbor," he says politely, looking up from the piece of mail he was reading. "i don't believe we've met yet. i'm-"

"jongho," you interrupt, craning your neck to the side to look him up and down. "yeah, i know. i've heard it far too much."

the smirk that crosses his face fills you with rage for multiple reasons, one being that he just looks so smug and cocky and pleased with himself, a confidence that probably lands him so many prospects in the first place. but it's also because even though you really, truly hate to admit it, he's annoyingly handsome.

"oh? did the boys tell you about me?" he quips, the look on his face the biggest indication he knows damn well that's not what you meant. you can only scoff at him, watching his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"the boys?" you ask, tone feigning sweetness, "try girls. many girls. the walls aren't thin you know."

oh, i know," he says, smirking at how riled up you already are. and it's due to that very fact he can't help but add on, "because i hear nothing coming from your end."

your eyebrow shoots up at his comment, feeling anger and irritation flood through you at the relaxed way he leans against his door and smirks at you.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"just that maybe you need to get some too, huh?" he says, tone sarcastic and playful. "is that why you're coming off so bitter, princess?"

"bitter?" you laugh out humorlessly, princess? is this guy fucking serious? you take a step closer to him and narrowing your eyes at him, "maybe try exhausted or appalled or disgusted! i've had to hear your escapades for weeks."

"is that really what this is about?" he quips, mimicking your actions and taking a step closer to you. "maybe you're just curious or dare i say....jealous? about my action and your...lack thereof."

and it's at that moment you can not believe he is a real person. how a real, living breathing person could be this dense and arrogant and repulsive to a person they just met (while completely ignoring the fact that you're being this judgmental and rude to a person you've just met).

"you're a sicko, a literal sicko," you spit out.

your comments only make his smirk grow larger, turning his head to the side before his eyes roam your figure. "i mean, if you wanna have an escapade of your own, if you apologize, i wouldn't be opposed to-"

"goodbye jongho," you say, taking out your key as you roll your eyes. "i wish i could say it was a pleasure meeting you."

"oh c'mon, don't be like that," he whines, his eyes twinkling at you in a way that would usually have you hook, line and sinker.

"how about you start being mindful of your neighbors?" you snap, opening your door and stepping inside before turning around to get in one last petty farewell. "because if i have to hear one more woman ask you if you're in yet, i'm gonna lose my mind."

"so... i heard you finally met jongho," yunho says on your nightly walk a few days later.

"ha, oh did i," you spit out sarcastically, remembering how irritated and frustrated that arrogant asshole had made you. "just as big a dick as i expected."

yunho has to bite his lip to he doesn't smirk or laugh, simply raising an eyebrow at you. "what?" you ask, catching the look on his face.

"nothing," he says, throwing his arms up in defense. "i just think...i mean, he's not that bad."

"different girls every night?!" you squeal, "oh, c'mon yunho. and you know what, it's not even about that. it's the fact that i hear every single thing, at all hours of the night. like last night, it kept me up till three a.m."

"okay, that is a bit inconsiderate," yunho agrees, not saying that, now, the boy is probably just doing it on purpose to get a rise out of you. because he knows jongho well and knows that any strong response like the one you give just serves as a way to interest the boy. makes him see just how far he could push someone until they really crack.

"so inconsiderate," you whine, a frown making its way on your face. "it's stressing me out, even, working on like four hours of sleep."

and any time yunho, wooyoung or san hear the words 'stressed out,' it immediately calls for a night of dancing and overpriced cocktails. you were hesitant at first, walking into the crowded bar that friday with an already tipsy san and wooyoung.

but once you got down a few drinks yourself, you were right there with them. dancing on them and doing shots and singing so loudly you knew you'd have that telltale, hoarse party girl voice the next day. but it was so worth it because right now, you were having so much fun.

forgetting all about your work obligations and thesis due in a few weeks, forgetting all about the frustration you've gathered from being single for almost a year and how you're kindly reminded every night you haven't gotten laid since then.

so maybe that's why you agreed to give the guy who bought you a drink your phone number, placing a peck on his lips before yunho works to grab you, wooyoung and san out of the bar.

"you guys are so annoying, we're never doing this again," yunho grumbled on the walk back to the apartment. because that's the only way to feel as he watches san almost get hit by a car three times, wooyoung screaming "hello!" into every open establishment and you asking him one hundred times if he thought it was okay and safe to give that guy your number.

but then once wooyoung and san start projectile vomiting all over the streets, you decide to give yunho a helping hand. you wrap san's arm around your neck, wooyoung's around yunho, and carry the boy's up the elevator and into their apartment. both of the boys promptly pass out on the floor and yunho waves it off, insisting they'll be fine and that'll he be sleeping on the couch in fear that they'll choke on their vomit.

"you're a good friend, yunho," you laugh out, hiccuping the last part of his name. "thank you for this. it-it was so much fun." and the boy can only softly smiling, placing a friendly kiss on your cheek and insisting you'll do it again after he discusses with a few selected few how to act properly.

you giggle as you stumbled toward your own apartment, your head turning to the side when you hear the ding of the elevator. your eyes widen when you see jongho come out, alone, and you can't help the way your hands start slowly clapping.

"wow," you say, "do-do my eyes deceive me? are you actually going into your apartment alone?"

that stupid, arrogant, obnoxiously handsome smirk is on his face immediately, shamelessly looking over your tight jeans and lace shirt. "you went out like that and you're going home alone?" he asks, resting his head on his door. "what was wrong with the men there?"

"if you could believe it, they had a conversation with me. got to know me and just talked. you know, like a decent human being."

he bites his lip to contain his smile, crossing his (large, muscular, exquisite) arms across his chest. "what, because i like to fuck i'm not a decent human being?"

"because you like to fuck in an abundance," you tell him, walking forward and standing in front of him. "and because the porn-like moans keep me up all damn night!"

"now, if you could believe it, those aren't my moans," he says teasingly, liking the way your finger feels on his broad chest. "so i don't know why you're yelling at me in the first place."

"because you're the one making it happen!" you squeal, "if i have to hear 'ugh, harder jongho!' one more time, i'm gonna shoot myself in the face."

he licks over his lips, resisting the urge to laugh at how perfectly you intimidated a fucked out, whiney voice. and something about it causes him to step closer to you, just a few inches of space keeping your fronts from touching.

"what if it's your own voice?" he asks lowly, his words teasing but eyes serious. "would you mind that?" his eyes roam over your outfit again, the curve of your hips and the slight silver of skin itching to have his hand on it. "because i still think that's what this is all about."

you swallow the lump in your throat, amazed and a bit embarrassed by how quickly he's humbled you. but it's the voice, the proximity, his eyes on top of the fact that, yeah okay maybe it's a little bit about that. but who can blame you? it's been far too long of the sad hum of your vibrator and muffled moans in your own hand filling your bedroom.

"i think you're an asshole," you weakly spit out, still trying to keep some of the resolve. but he sees through it, smirking as he allows his hand to touch your warm skin and push you slightly so your back connects with the wall.

"asshole or not, i'm free tonight and you're free tonight," he hums lowly in your ear, his finger tracing your skin tantalizing slow and causing sparks to shoot through you. "isn't that right?"

you swallow again, your arms hanging dumbly at your sides even though they should be pushing him right off of you. but you can only meet his gaze and feel yourself tremble, his eyes dark and teasing and boring right into you.

"i..." you can only stutter, looking from his face to his hand resting on your apartment door. you bite your lip at the sight of it, large and strong and you can only imagine what kind of damage it does. is that what keeps them screaming all night, his fingers toying at their clit or pushing into their-

but then suddenly both your hands are pinned above your head, a gasp leaving your mouth as warmth pools in your stomach. because you were right, they are very strong hands.

"you what?" he hums lowly, his tongue swiping his lip cockily as he takes in your expression. "that shut you up real quick, didn't it?"

you lick at your lips, narrowing your eyes at him which leads him to tighten his hold on you. you hate the whimper that leaves your mouth, feeling so small and defenseless under his touch. "so what, are we gonna do this this right out here?" he asks.

"we're not...gonna do anything," you sigh out breathily, looking from his eyes to the elevator. but he's quick to take the hand on your waist to your jaw, turning your head so you can look right at him.

you don't like this, you really don't.

actually you like this too much.

because his hand is far too close to your neck and if he wraps his hand around it, you'll be done. you'll probably beg for him and embarrass yourself and maybe even come untouched, who's to know really.

"oh no?" he hums, teasing and superiority in his tone. and then he starts doing just what you didn't want, moving down your neck and squeezing at the sides every so slightly. he doesn't miss the way your breath quickens, how your eyes close and you tip your head back further.

"you like this?" he says lowly, "you like my hand around your pretty little throat?" you whimper again, all the pent up frustration and desire hitting you at once.

anyone who says a cold shower is the best way to sober you up clearly doesn't know anything. all you need is a years worth of being sexual deprived and an obnoxious neighbor with strong hands and a high libido. because you feel completely coherent and aware, aware of the how fast wetness is pooling in your underwear and how your mind is flooding with all the things you want him to do to you.

"where else do you want my hand?"

your eyes fly open and now it's his turn for lust to creep on him, the glossy, heated, wide-eyed look you give him all he needs to suppress a low growl in the back of his throat. to move his hand down your cleavage and mumble "here?"

but when you shake your head, he only smirks, giving each breast a squeeze before trailing it down your stomach and right above the waistband of your jeans. "here?"

you feel like you're about to pass out now, your legs wobbly and breath so ragged and shaky. "touch me, please," you whisper, hating how fast he's made you desperate and pathetic. but you don't hate it enough to not give in, wanting and needing his hand between your legs.

"just because you said please," he says and then he's rubbing you over your jeans. you spread your legs out even more, crying out quietly when you feel him graze over your most sensitive spot. you feel how wet your underwear is becoming, wishing he would just stick his hand down there and give you what you want.

"j-jongho," you whine out, head lolling to the side as you look up at him.

"what do you want?" he hums, his hand instinctually tightening on your red wrists. "you want me to feel how wet you are?"

you can only nod your head quickly, thinking that maybe perhaps he can read your mind but not really caring at this point, because then he's zipping down your pants and sticking his hand in your soaked thong.

"shit," he grunts out, his profanity drowned out by the whine leaving your mouth. "i knew you were just frustrated. that's what it was, right?" but you refuse to answer, just focusing on the way his fingers are flicking at your throbbing clit. his fingers are so skilled and long, sparks of pleasure shooting right through you.

but that doesn't do for him. which is why he suddenly sticks a finger in your wet entrance making you cry out. "right?" he growls. "i'll leave you here dripping if you don't answer me."

"yes," you whine immediately. "i...want that."

"want what?" he asks, sticking a second finger in as some type of reward. which is why you speak again, whine out that you want someone to fuck you and make you scream.

"i offered," he said lowly, his finger quickly circling your clit. "but you were such a judgmental, self-righteous little-"

the ding of the elevator immediately brings you both back to reality, that you're both still very much in the hallway of your apartment complex. he immediately rips his hand out of your pants, dropping his hold on you and covering your body with his.

"zip them up."

and just like the past few minutes, you do as your told. the couple coming out of the elevator pass you with a polite hello, the flush on your face and the tent in jongho's pants leaving little to the imagination. but then they disappear around the corner, both of you huffing out a sigh of relief.

"shit, that was close," he says lowly, looking at your face to see you staring right at him. "what?"

"that was...."

he's expecting to hear the words 'amazing' or 'just what i needed' or 'not enough, come inside so we can finish.'

"a mistake."

his eyebrow raises at your words, looking over your flushed face and messy hair and knowing you're just saying that to safe face. because since the second you met, the tension was so palpable with sexual undertones and hidden desires.

"bullshit."

you roll your eyes despite the throbbing wetness between your thighs. "i'm serious," you tell him, pushing past him as you go to unlock your door. "this never happened."

"y/n, don't be so-"

but then the door slams in his face again.

the same way wooyoung slams it two weeks later, calling you innocently and telling you he wants to try out a new outfit for you. "i don't have any professional clothes so i want you to see if it's okay," he had said.

but then the second he walked in, in his normal attire and a determined look in his eye, you knew you fucked up.

"family dinner. jongho's. now. you're coming."

"wooyoung!" you whined, "you're such a dirty liar! that's not fair."

"i don't care," the boy said, running over and grabbing your hand in his. "you ditched last month and i won't stand for it any longer."

"let me at least-"

but you're dragged out of your safe, quiet home, clad in slippers and pajama shorts, before he barges in to the unlocked apartment next door. playful arguing and loud noises from a video game could be heard from the couch, the distinct whine of san's loud voice causing you to smile despite being dragged her against your will.

"look who i got!" wooyoung says chipperly, three heads snapping back to look at you with different expressions. yunho looks apologetic, eyes soft with sympathy as he mouths "sorry." san is overjoyed and clapping, bouncing his way over to you to wrap you in a hug and tell you about the game.

and jongho. the look in his eyes scares you as much as it arouses you.

because ever since the hallway incident, you haven't seen him. you listen carefully outside for the sound of his door opening or the elevator dinging, walking quickly and quietly anytime you go out for the day.

and now, it's like he's warning you just to wait. that ignoring him was the worst thing you could've done and now he's gonna show you your actions have consequences.

and about an hour into dinner, he does just that.

it started subtly at first, snide little looks and chuckles as you watched him and the boys play. but then when you were in the kitchen checking on the dinner, you felt his looming presence.

you acted as if he wasn't there, bending down to check the food in the oven before closing it with a quiet hum. and then before you knew it, his body was pressed right into yours from behind.

"finally done hiding?" he mumbled lowly in your ear. your breath hitches in your throat, his front pressed right into your ass as his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

"what do you mean?" you ask, attempting to sound strong and unbothered. "i wasn't hiding."

a short chuckle leaves his mouth, hands falling to your waist before he cranes his neck back to see if the boys are watching you guys; but their eyes on trained on the tv, deep in an competitive state.

"were you embarrassed that i heard you?" he hummed, causing your entire body to still.

because after you slammed the door in his face, you really tried to ignore the burn between your legs. you had done everything possible, distracted yourself with tv and schoolwork and even a cold shower; but the second you laid in your bed, you found yourself rummaging through your bedside table and desperately switching on the highest setting.

found yourself wondering if jongho had been on the other side of the wall doing the same thing, relieving himself after trying so desperately to push the feelings and arousal away.

thats what caused the first loud moan to leave your mouth, thoughts of him and the incessant vibrations against your clit. and then the whines and little noises leaving you just continued, not even trying to cover them because it's about time he gets a taste of his own medicine back.

"or did you want me to hear you?" he asks, growling lowly in your ear. "i don't know the last time i had to get off to my own hand."

"i don't know who told you to do that," you say sarcastically, the bratty side of you coming out and causing him to chuckle lowly. and you didn't realize that that was a chuckle that meant 'you're gonna regret that.'

but, really, you should've known you got let off the hook too easily. that his finger rubbing a few circles into your warm skin wasn't nearly enough of a punishment for your sassy comment. that he guided you over to the table by the small of your back and told you to sit too innocently.

and now, in the middle of dinner, you feel his hand on your knee and creeping up towards your thigh. you look over at him warily, the boys deep in a heavy debate about boxers versus briefs.

"what are you doing?" you whispered to him, half tempted to jab your fork into his leg at the lust starting to build in your veins.

"what do you think?" he says through clenched teeth, his strong hand cupping your thigh and causing a breathy exhale to leave your mouth. it's so tight and high on your thigh that you can't help but squirm, feeling especially on edge since they're are three people literally right in front of you.

"if you're really thinking about fingering me under this table, i'm gonna-"

and like he's trying to continually prove to you his sole purpose is to piss you off, his hand slips through your shorts and slowly rubs you over your wet thong. "just playing a little" he says lowly into your ear. "but you're not coming. and you're not allowed to pull that shit again in your room. do you hear me?"

"i don't think you're in any position to-"

his hand is quick to push right into your underwear and cup you, his finger rapidly flicking at your clit and a moan leaves your mouth that you cover with multiple coughs.

"you good, y/n?" he asks innocently next to you, the three boys turning to check as well. you side-eye him in disgust, how he sounds so calm and composed despite the shit he's doing to you right now.

"fine," you grunt out breathily, san raising an eyebrow before wooyoung's loud voice screeches at him. and then again, loud outbursts and conversations are back and successfully drown out the shaky breaths and low hums leaving you.

your legs start to spread wider as pleasure builds between your legs, your hand absentmindedly reaching over to palm him.

"no," he growls in your ear, "don't even fucking try it."

and because he's brought you to this pathetic, submissive side, you pout as you pull your hand.

"are you close?" he asks, his finger sliding inside you nearly making your head loll to the side. "are my fingers fucking you well?" but he knows they are, knows you're close and knows just how to curl them and play with your clit to have your legs shaking and pussy clenching around him.

"next time you wanna pull that shit, remember this," he growls, ripping his hand from you suddenly and successfully depriving you of the orgasm that was deliciously building. you almost cry out in frustration, about ready to beg and plead and do whatever he wants to make you come.

but then he gets up to start clearing the plates and washing the dishes, his teasing eyes watching you for the rest of the night; the blush on your cheeks and the frustration in your eyes never fails to make him smirk. and then when you leave later that night, he whispers one more warning to behave in your ear.

"why should i?" you growl, irritated and beyond frustrated at the wet ache between your legs.

"because i said so," he tells you, lifting your chin with his hand. "the next time you come, it's gonna be me doing it."

and it's with that comment right there that makes him step out of his apartment a few nights later. because around 1:00 a.m., he hears the familiar jingling of your keys in the hallway and your softly spoken voice asking a person to leave.

"c'mon, babe, i walked you home," the male voice says, "the least you could do-"

he doesn't hear the rest, ripping open his door and peeking out at you two. he can tell immediately you're uncomfortable, if the plain fear and disgust in your eyes wasn't obvious enough.

"the least she could do is what?" jongho asks lowly, stepping towards the guy and staring at him challengingly. "she doesn't owe you shit."

"who the fuck are you?" the guy asks, voice dripping with hostility. "mind your business."

jongho's fists clench, tension overcoming him and about ready to punch this guy square in the face. because if there's one thing he hates more than men like this, it's people telling him to mind their own business when they're doing something wrong.

"i don't think she wants you here," is all jongho says, cooly, calmly, a complete contrast to how he's really feeling. "so how 'bout you leave now?"

the guy only lifts his brow, sensing something slightly unhinged and dangerous in jongho's tone and gaze. in the way he crossed his arms over his chest and is clenching his hands into a fist.

"whatever," he mumbles, throwing you one last dirty look before stalking off toward the elevator. you and jongho don't speak until you hear the doors close, just looking at one another with a mix of heat, curiosity and gratefulness.

"thanks," you mumble lowly, "i gave him my number a few weeks ago and he happened to see me when i was walking home."

"careful," jongho mumbles, "he's a fuckin' creep."

a small chuckle leaves your mouth as you nod your head, your tongue coming out to lick your lips nervously. you hadn't seen or talked to him since he fingered you under his dining room table, deprived you of your orgasm and then said you weren't allowed to...relieve yourself.

so, yeah, there's a bit of the elephant in the room.

"apparently so," you say, smiling softly as you look at him. the tension between you is palpable, long heated gazes and slightly shaky breaths. the wall behind you a reminder of the first time all of this started. his arms crossed over his chest with clenched hands is a reminder of what exactly they can do, the way your legs are nearly wobbling from how badly the ache has been between them.

"did you eat yet?" you find yourself asking. it's quick and awkward and blurted out so randomly, you think you might've as well said hey, let's go inside so we can finally fuck.

and even though the smirk on his face says he knows it too, he doesn't say anything but "no, i haven't eaten yet."

"i was gonna order chinese," you tell him, "do you wanna...come in and i'll buy you some? as a thank you?" he nods his head silently and you smile back, turning around to unlock your apartment. but then the second you open your door, he pushes you inside and quickly follows you in. he closes the door behind you and promptly pushes you up against it.

"buy me dinner as a thank you?" he says teasingly, "that's the best you could think of?"

your cheeks flush at getting caught but you're somewhat beyond the point of even caring. because even if you wanted to get off, it wouldn't be the same. after feeling his strong hands and hearing his low teasing voice, nothing else will leave you feeling fulfilled.

"why not just tell me straight up you want me to get you off?"

"i want you to get me off," you snap, boldly and confidently despite the way you're trapped up against the door. "happy now?"

the smirk on his face widens, his hand trailing down the curves of your body slowly and teasingly. it makes your sensitive, heightened self tingle and burn, a whine threatening to leave your mouth.

"depends," he hums, "were you good? i didn't hear anything but that doesn't mean you weren't sneaky." his hands trails over your thigh and between your legs and you don't know which one of you is more grateful that you're wearing a dress.

because while it allows him easy access, it also allows him to feel just how ready and wet you are. your thighs and thong already soaked from days of being pathetically aroused.

"you didn't, did you?" he asks with a smirk, shoving your underwear down and dress up when you whine out a shaky "i didn't."

"i can tell," he says, dropping to his knees as he bunches up your dress. "hold this," his voice deeply commands, his own arousal and lust taking over now. because now he's face to face with your dripping pussy and can basically smell the desperation on you. all because you waited and listened to him.

and then you nearly scream when his hands push down on your hips and his mouth connects with your clit. you moan out over and over as he licks and sucks and eats you out like a starved man, your legs shaking and threatening to collapse had it not been for his tight hold on you.

your one hand is holding your dress while the other is in his hair, tugging and pulling and moving him closer into you as your back is pressed hard against your door. and then, like all of that wasn't enough, you look down at him and find yourself begging him to fuck you.

he stops immediately, pulling his face back and looking up at you. your eyes are dark with lust and arousal, cheeks red and hair a mess from begin pressed against the metal.

"you sure?" he asks, his own excitement brewing in him. he only planned on making you come over and over, with his tongue and fingers and then relieving himself by his own hand again later that night.

but now as you beg "yes please," he's jumping up to tug off his pants and boxers before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. and that's how you end up christening your apartment door, his cock pounding in and out of you as your body knocks into the door.

"isn't this what you wanted?" he growled in your ear, "this whole time you just wanted to be fucked like the good girl you are."

and when you moan out his name again and again, you're not able to see the irony of this all. how for months you've berated this man and gave him shit about keeping the neighbors up.

"i knew it! i fucking knew it!" wooyoung says from his apartment, hearing your muffled screams and yelps of jongho's name. "i can't wait to tell her how inconsiderate she's being."

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Location Scouting Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date (堪景之约) which has not been released in other servers! 🍒

Do read the prologue first for context: here

[ This date was released in CN on 10 Sep 2020 ]

MC: Temporarily closed? 

Picking garden owner: Yes, there was a rainstorm last night, and the windows of the storehouse weren't shut tightly, so all the tools in the garden got drenched. We have no choice but to close down the garden temporarily.

MC: Just letting us take a few simple photos of the view will do. There’s no need to actually do the picking.

Picking garden owner: The garden is in complete disarray... it’s not very suitable for photographs, I’m sorry.

MC: It’s all right... thank you for the hard work.

Today is the last day we’re gathering materials of the scenery, and we have more or less visited every nook and cranny of this little town.

This picking garden was originally meant to be the final stop, but I didn’t expect such an incident to occur. 

After saying goodbye to the owner of the picking garden, the final glimmer of hope in my heart is extinguished. I lean against Gavin’s side weakly.

Gavin: Are you all right? Don’t be discouraged - let’s ask for some advice from town’s tourist centre. Maybe things will take a turn for the better. 

Gavin wraps an arm around me, patting my right shoulder in a comforting manner. 

MC: All right, I’ll give it a try.

I nod repeatedly, whipping out my phone and getting the contact information of the person in charge of the tourist centre. 

Person in charge: I see. You’ve already been to all the other scenic spots in the town... Oh yes, the only university in the town - Hai Bin University - is holding an open house. If you don’t have other back-up plans, why not have a look?

After hanging up, I recall how I had participated in my university’s open house. It was indeed filled with interesting memories, and I think the potential content from taking photographs there would be very rich. 

Gavin: Once you’ve decided, we can set out.

He takes out his phone, actions nimble as he enters the destination into the navigation system. 

Gavin: Hai Bin University is very near from here. We can head over on foot. And also take a look at that street we passed by when we were in the car yesterday.

MC: That sightseeing street? 

Gavin: Mm, I remember you mentioning that you wanted to take another look if you had the chance. There’s a chance now.

MC: That’s great! Does this count as an unexpected bonus?

I smile and take a step forward, holding Gavin’s hand. His lips are hooked into a slight smile, and he tightens his grip on my fingers. 

-

In order to attract tourists, the developer specifically re-constructed most of the buildings in the town to have a European style.

Perhaps due to it being the final day of gathering materials, Gavin and I walk along the small path leisurely, which exudes the atmosphere of a foreign country. 

The temperature of this seaside town in early autumn is favourable. Occasionally, we’d pass by streets lined with chinese parasol trees, the rustling leaves pleasing. 

Suddenly filled with regret that we had been spending the past few days rushing around various scenic spots, I slow down my pace. 

Gavin seems to sense this. He cooperates, slowing down his pace to match mine.

I sneak a glance at Gavin’s side profile, and I can’t help but smile.

Gavin: What’s wrong? 

Noticing my movement, Gavin turns his head to ask. Gentle sunlight falls onto his eyes - clear and bright. 

MC: Nothing, I just think this is really nice. 

After hearing this, Gavin holds onto my hand even more tightly. 

Gavin: I think so too.

-

Without much effort, we enter the street belonging to Hai Bin University.

Although it would take a couple more minutes before we reach the school, the streets are lined on both sides with several students who are handing out flyers.

Female students, who are in groups of twos and threes, are buzzing about the activities happening in school. Tall male students walk past, holding onto basketballs.

It’s the perfect depiction of a beautiful youth.

I turn to Gavin, who is standing next to me. 

The sunlight of early autumn is warm and bright, softening Gavin’s originally cold and stern side profile. 

MC: Gavin, if you were in university, you would have been the focus of the school. For example, you’d be the face of the basketball team - the handsome guy surrounded and spectated by juniors at every competition...

Gavin’s line of sight shifts from the navigation map on his phone to me, his eyebrows arched.

Gavin: What about you?

[ Option A: Nothing special ]

MC: My... my life in university wasn’t anything special. It was the same as high school - I went to class, rushed my thesis in the library, and then graduated before I even realised it.

[ Option B: Very rich and colourful ]

MC: Now that I think about it, my university life was always very interesting. I made a lot of like-minded friends, and even participated in many meaningful activities.

MC: But if you were around, I might have been a cheerleader for your basketball team.

Right after I finish speaking, a tall male student with a strong build strides towards us, pointing at the flyers in his hand. 

Student A: Schoolmates! Are you talking about basketball? Want to participate in our shooting competition?

I didn’t expect Gavin and I to be mistaken as students in this university, much less invited to participate in a competition. Slightly embarrassed, I hurriedly wave my hands.

MC: We’re not...

Student A: The rules are very simple! If you make 3 three-pointers out of 5 shots, you can bring back a stuffed animal.

He points at the picture of a gigantic rabbit stuffed toy on the leaflet. Its fluffy ears are pinkish, and it looks incredibly cute.

Student A: Not winning a stuffed toy for your girlfriend? She seems to like it very much.

While I’m still thinking of how to reject him, Gavin has already agreed.

Gavin: Lead the way.

I’m dumbfounded. Gavin gives our interlocked hands a squeeze, pulling me closer to him.

Gavin: The rabbit stuffed toy - do you like it?

MC: I like it, but there’s really no need to participate.

Gavin: Since we’re already here, why not experience it. Whatever you like, I’ll help you get it.

He looks at me seriously as he speaks. His eyes are full of light. My heart suddenly feels warm, as though great strength has been poured into it.

MC: I’ll put in even more effort when taking photographs then!

-

Likely attributed to the school’s open house, large banners and posters decorate the interior of the school, and students are dressed in all sorts of manners.

When we reach the venue of the basketball competition, there are already several people in the queue.

Most of the participants are student couples. 

The male students roll their wrists and showcase some mock shooting postures, while the female students are at the side cheering them on. 

The entire area seems to be infected by their energy.

However, perhaps due to the sheer number of people watching, the male students repeatedly fail to shoot the balls through the hoop.

The thin and frail boy standing in front of Gavin seems to be particularly anxious, and I can even see both of his hands trembling slightly. 

Very, soon, it’s the boy’s turn. I watch as he dribbles the ball, looking as though he isn’t as strong as he wishes to be. Then, he throws the ball unsteadily into the air. It doesn’t even touch the basket. 

His three consecutive tries are unsuccessful.

Gavin takes the ball from the dejected-looking boy. He casually dribbles it twice. With a jump, he could get a three-pointer. 

My expectant gaze is on the basket -- the ball circles the hoop twice, then falls outside of it.

Just as I’m prepared to comfort Gavin, he retrieves the ball and says softly:

Gavin: I’ve more or less gotten the feel of it. 

While I’m stunned, Gavin lifts his head towards the basket.

With a slight tiptoe, his movements are clean as he jumps.

At the peak of his jump, he flicks his wrist, sending the basketball flying in a beautiful parabola across the air, hitting the backboard steadily. The ball rebounds, falling into the basket. 

Scorekeeper: The first one to shoot it in!

Gavin dribbles the ball, staring at the faraway basket. Very quickly, he shoots the second ball through the hoop.

Without blinking, I stare at Gavin’s side profile, feeling both nervous and expectant for his next shot. 

In contrast to the earlier two shots, this time, his expression is more at ease, and he casually dribbles the ball next to him.

He lifts his hand-- Takes aim--

With a light flick of his wrist, the third ball goes through the hoop, his movements done in one connected breath.

Audience: Good shot!!

The spectators erupt into cheers, and even the male students who are watching can’t help but whistle. 

However, the main protagonist who garnered such cheers doesn’t seem to care about the noisy crowd. His gaze is on me, and he seems to be smiling yet not smiling. 

Gavin: [mouthing the words] Cheerleader. 

I snort with laughter, placing my hands at the side of my mouth to mimic a loudspeaker. 

MC: Incredibly, unmatchably dashing!!

-

Of course, Gavin wins the biggest rabbit plush toy. I hug it as I walk next to him, the heavy happiness in my hands channelling into my heart. 

Students who pass by and see the gigantic plush in my hands cast me envious glances.

Unexpectedly receiving “salutes” with their eyes, I feel just like the plush in my hands, stuffed to the brim with pride and satisfaction.

It’s as though I’m not hugging a simple rabbit plush, but the most precious, unique treasure in the entire world. 

While I indulge in my imagination, the weight in my hands suddenly disappears.

Gavin takes the doll from me, carrying it on his shoulder. His other hand holds mine. 

Gavin: Where else do you want to take photos? 

Just as I’m about to respond to his question, we’re stopped by the frail-looking boy who was queuing in front of Gavin earlier. 

Student B: May I ask... if you could sell the doll to me? 

After I bluntly reject this strange request, the boy stammers incoherently for a long time before we finally understand the reason for it.

He wanted to give the doll to a girl he likes, but since he couldn’t seem to shoot the ball through the hoop, he had no choice but to ask us to sell the doll to him.

Student B: S-so could I trouble you to sell it to me? Please!

MC: I’m sorry. Even though I really want to help you, this doll is an important gift to me. 

Student B: It’s all right, my request was too unreasonable. Looks like I really won’t stand a chance then...

Looking at his dejected state, Gavin, who has remained silent all this while, suddenly speak up. 

Gavin: If you truly like the other person, you should tell her directly about how you genuinely feel. Don’t use such half-hearted methods. 

Student B: ...I've tried it. But every time I’m alone with her, I can't speak properly. Afterwards, she happened to join the club I formed. The club has always been pretty desolate, so the two of us eventually became friends. 

MC: Isn't that a good thing? 

Student B: No... I have a clumsy mouth, so my words often fail to convey what I mean, which has caused a lot of misunderstandings, making her unhappy. She wasn’t here to prepare for the open house activities, so I wanted to give the doll to her, in hopes that she wouldn't leave the club...

The boy grows increasingly gloomy as he speaks. As I deliberate on how to comfort him, Gavin furrows his brows, giving him a straightforward reminder.

Gavin: And after she doesn’t leave the club? If you don’t express how you feel, anything you do will be futile. Since she’s someone you like, there’s no need to hide it. 

I rarely hear Gavin straightening out strangers. His voice sounds casual, but his amber eyes are filled with certainty.

After hearing this, the boy lowers his head even further. His brows are tightly knitted, looking as though he’s in a painful struggle.

In tacit agreement, Gavin and I don’t speak. After a very long time, the boy lifts his head, his gaze brimming with resoluteness. 

Student B: What you said is right! I shouldn’t have asked for the doll from you two. No matter what, it’d only be meaningful if I go all out.

The boy grows increasingly excited as he speaks. In the end, he balls his hands into fists. 

Student B: Thank you both! I’ll definitely work hard to change how she feels!

Gavin: What do you plan to do? 

Gavin’s chilly voice is akin to a basin of cold water. In a moment, the boy’s hot-blooded passion turns cold to the marrow.

The boy, whose chest had been puffed up earlier, shirks back to his original self.

Student B: I... I don’t know. I actually haven’t thought about it...

Looking at his pitiful and dejected state, I sympathise with him slightly.

MC: Gavin, why don’t we help him? We could also take some photographs for material.

Gavin: Whatever you say.

MC: Come to think of it, what was the open house activity you prepared? Why did you still have time to shoot hoops? 

The boy pushes up his glasses, a streak of brightness finally appearing on his gloomy face.

Student B: For this open house activity, the Glasses Society prepared a glasses fair. Our goal is to present all the different kinds of glasses in the world, and the stories behind them! But for some reason, no one came to visit, so I left temporarily!

MC: ...

Gavin: ...

Gavin and I look at his extremely excited and proud expression, and are left speechless for a long time. 

There are truly all kinds of strange societies in the world... no wonder this place is so desolate. 

However, since we’ve already agreed to help, I decide to think of ideas for him. 

MC: Right now, I can’t think of a better way to help you woo the person you like. But we could help out with your club’s activity.

The boy’s eyes brighten. 

Student B: Thank you both so much! Since you’d like to collaborate with the Glasses Society, why not wear a pair of glasses!

Gavin: ...I don’t have a habit of wearing glasses.

MC: It does sound pretty interesting though.

Even after digging through my memories seriously, I realise I haven’t seen Gavin in glasses much.

I sneak a glance at Gavin’s face, and start picturing what kind of glasses would look good on him.

We walk to the meticulously prepared activity booth prepared by the Glasses Society. As the boy mentioned, the booth is filled with a superb and dazzling collection of strange glasses. 

Student B: No worries, they are all clear lens glasses, so you can pick them freely. 

I casually select a pair and wear them, then pull Gavin, who is looking around his surroundings, to my side.

MC: Gavin, come and pick a pair of glasses which suit you!

Gavin can’t seem to comprehend my sudden enthusiasm, and he furrows his brows.

Gavin: I don’t need them. 

MC: Just treat it as trying out a different style!

Such a rare opportunity to see Gavin in glasses - I must definitely have a feast!

There are glasses with frames, glasses without frames, aviator sunglasses, golden-rimmed glasses... Not long after, a little mountain of glasses appears on the table before Gavin. 

Gavin: ...I’ll try two or three then.

I pick up the golden-rimmed glasses, putting them onto Gavin’s face excitedly. 

The delicate frame doesn’t shroud Gavin’s coolness, and even brings out the depths of his eyes. 

It’s just that... he looks a little too dashing.

I retrieve the glasses from Gavin’s face, putting them back in their original place without a second glance. Then, I hold up a pair of black-framed glasses which have a rounded edge. 

I place it against Gavin’s face and gesture with it.

MC: Oo... this one isn't bad.

Gavin: You like this one? 

MC: Mm, it looks especially nice on your face. 

Hearing this, Gavin leans down slightly. Gently, I hook the temple tips of the glasses behind his ears.

The rounded and blunt frame seems to soften Gavin’s sharp and distinct lower jaw. With the refraction of the lenses, his brown pupils exude refreshing coolness. 

In glasses, Gavin looks incredibly youthful. The black frames add a foreign, bookish aura to him.

Although they are clearly just a pair of normal glasses, they give off modelling vibes when Gavin wears them. 

I seem to enter a trance while staring at him.

Gavin: MC? You...

MC: [coughs] This pair then!

Having selected “equipment” for Gavin, I’m just about to head out when he pulls me. 

Gavin: Hold on. You’re not ready yet. 

I turn around to look at Gavin as he holds his chin, looking at the display cabinet and pondering seriously.

Before I can react, he has already made his choice. He holds up a pair of reddish-brown clear lens glasses. 

Turning around, he gently takes off the glasses I had picked out randomly just now. After tucking stray hairs behind my ears, he helps me put on the glasses in his hands.

Probably because we were outside for too long just now, his fingers are cold. However, when his ice-cold fingertips brush my ear, I feel my ears heat up slightly.

I cast a glance towards a mirror by the side, realising that the rounded glasses are extremely cute. 

MC: It doesn’t really matter which glasses I wear...

Gavin: But it’s very cute like this. [coughs] ...a different type of cuteness as compared to the usual.

I tidy my hair a little unnaturally, then meet his eyes expectantly. 

MC: How is it?

Gavin: As expected, very pretty. But it’s not the glasses that look pretty. It’s the person who looks pretty.

His hand lingers on my ear, his thumb and forefinger stroking my earlobe softly. 

Hearing such a direct compliment, my face flushes slightly. 

Now that the both of us are in glasses, we return to the activity area of the school with the male student. 

I raise the small signboard, calling out from time to time. Gavin stands next to me quietly. 

After a while, people actually start coming over to make enquiries. However, most of them are females, and they flock around Gavin so he can explain more about this “Glasses Society”.

Also holding onto a small signboard, the President of the club stands at the side, looking slightly defeated. 

Student B: I spent the afternoon running around to advertise, but no one came. This world really does look at appearances...

??: What are all of you doing? 

Turning towards the voice, I see a pretty and petite girl with shoulder-length hair looking startled as she stands nearby. 

Female student: President, you’re... 

At the side, the male student is akin to a boiled prawn, stuttering incoherently.

I know that this is probably the girl he likes. 

Student B: I’m... working hard to attract people to participate in the activity we prepared!

Female student: I see...

The girl looks at me carefully, then at Gavin who is standing at the back.

Female student: Since... you already have people helping you, I’ll leave first...

Just as the female student turns to leave, I pull her to a stop without hesitation.

MC: Please wait!

At this stage, why isn't that fellow doing anything! I frantically throw a glance at the male student. 

Gavin discreetly lifts his hand, and the male student suddenly staggers out, giving the female student a fright.

Standing behind the male student, Gavin gives me a look, and I immediately understand.

MC: This President has something to say to you.

The President, whose face is completely flushed, balls his hands into fists. He takes a deep breath. 

Student B: I hope you can return to the club!

Female student: Ah, w-why?

Student B: Because!

The President’s volume suddenly increases, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

Student B: Because you’re my most important member! I... I hope that I can see you every day, and be with you... to continue developing this club!

Even though the male student still fails to say the most straightforward words, the sincerity and urgency in his tone are evident. 

After being stunned for a moment, the girl seems to understand his unspoken words. She lowers her bright red face, hesitating for a while. 

Female student: Mm... then, I won’t leave.

The male student walks to her, nodding solemnly. Both of them burst into silly laughter, their faces red.

MC: He did it!!

Gavin can’t help but laugh. He walks to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

Gavin: It’s a good thing he didn’t miss out on even more. 

As Gavin speaks, he tightens his hold on me.

I lift my head to look at him. In his eyes, I can only see myself.

-

After saying goodbye to the students from the Glasses Society, Gavin and I experience several other open house activities in the school, and collect a full storage card worth of materials.

Right now, it’s almost evening. The twilight of early autumn dyes the sky a reddish pink.

As the day draws to a close, students from several booths have begun to pack up.

Gavin and I sit on a bench at the corner of the school. Lowering my head, I look through the various materials captured in the camera.

MC: Youth is really nice. It’s.a shame I didn’t have such a wild time in university. But no matter what, this task of collecting materials is a complete success. We even witnessed a beautiful romance, so there’s really no loss. 

Realising that I've been talking a lot, I pause and look at Gavin.

He’s still wearing the pair of glasses the male student gave to us as a souvenir. As a result, the sharp contours of his side profile have softened by quite a large extent.

Seeming to notice my gaze, Gavin turns his head towards me.

Gavin: How do you want to go wild? 

MC: Erm, for example...

At the moment, I actually can’t think of what could constitute a dynamic, spectacular experience that one definitely can’t miss out on. So I toss the question back to him.

MC: What about you? 

Gavin doesn’t respond. A strong gale suddenly whips up, causing fallen leaves to dance in the air, as though seeking to cover the both of us up. 

Students in the surroundings immediately hold down their items, and some can’t even open their eyes because of the wind. 

Only the air surrounding Gavin and I flows peacefully. 

Gavin gently caresses the side of my face. His gaze lingers, as though seeking to etch my appearance deeply in his mind. 

I place my palm on the back of his hand, concentrating on its warmth.

We stare into each other’s eyes, as though we have been paused in this moment forever. 

Gavin: This kind of wind... is it okay?

[Note] Our Bespectacled Boy uses wordplay here.

“Go wild” is translated from 疯一回 (“feng yi hui”)

“Wind” is 风 (“feng”)

-

👓 MOMENTS 👓

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: Deep respect for everyone who wears glasses!

Gavin: You were just saluting people who eat ice-cream in winter yesterday.

-

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: I have a feeling you’ll leave these glasses unused next time...

Gavin: I’ll wear them in the office to guard against blue light.

-

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: Hahaha just thinking about how we looked in the noodle shop makes me want to laugh.

Gavin: Still want to have supper tonight?

-

Call: First // Second

[0reblogufufu0]

Spoilers Ahead For IPYTM Finale!

Time for the end to this insane ride! Pumped and full of so many feelings of not wanting to let this series go, IPYTM and ITSAY, knowing there will be no season three of continuation and that this is it, but I feel so lucky to have gotten into this series and been along for the good and the bad!  Let’s watch episode five!

Immediately already in the first couple minutes we get a lot of contrast here from the ending of the last episode. Last time, things ended on a very somber note, with both Teh and Oh-aew struggling with their break up. But, here, having time skipped over to their senior year, the first thing we see is a lot of thriving while we’re on Oh-aew’s side.  He’s successful in school as well as in his internship, leading already to other options for him once he graduates, and the scene we get with his friends, is light-hearted as they all lament their tiredness from the work of it all. But, it’s obvious there’s a satisfaction in the work, things have definitely gotten better since last time. Also, the flashcards from ITSAY made an appearance! I always love to see the call backs (though I waited the entire time to see a call back to Oh-aew’s nose thing, and it never did, so a bit disappointed) Something that really solidifies the difference between now and then is Oh-aew’s reaction to Teh, as well as their status as exes. It’s not bitter or hung up, but genuinely happy seeing him succeed enough to be getting TV interviews about his projects, and he says he’s Teh’s ex to his friends without it seeming at all rough, like it’s totally in the past now. It’s really sweet, because the smile Oh-aew gives is so soft you’d think there was nothing between the two that was at all negative.  He’s really grown. But it also goes to show that after everything that happened Oh-aew’s feelings for Teh didn’t divulge into hatred, he’s still wishes him the best and wants him to thrive. But, oh my gosh how that contrasts with Teh’s condition is so great. Like, while Oh-aew is feeling more himself than he ever has, relishing in the life he’d always sought to have, even if some pieces had to be knocked out of place to achieve it, everything is falling apart for Teh in a way he can’t run from this time. When we meet him in his dressing room, just the coloring of the frame shows you the difference. Oh-aew’s space with his friends is vibrant, soft, and bright, while Teh’s is sort of dim, filled with neutral colors and soft lights. He talks with Top about feeling like he doesn’t want to do anything anymore, not his acting work nor his thesis which he’s struggling to come up with an idea for, and it’s a really big deal because Teh’s one consistent aspiration has always been chasing acting as far as he can, but now he’s achieved a relative fame and wants to take a break because the feeling is so not right. He says he feels like he’s missing something, and it’s obvious not just from last episode but from the conversation he has with Oh-aew later that it’s their relationship. Before, even if things were in shambles and changing, Teh could always turn back to Oh-aew being there with him, even if sometimes that was what was so overwhelming was turning back to face his boyfriend who kept on changing, Oh-aew was never missing in his core, but now that he’s basically entirely by himself with nothing feeling good for him to accomplish or strive towards, he feels how important that was now more than ever. I just gotta say wow to the scenes where Teh and Oh-aew meet again for the first time, there’s so much in it just with mannerisms or the way they speak. Oh-aew speaks with confidence, he answers Teh’s questions quickly when he asks them and doesn’t stutter or pause when he goes to ask some of his own. When he talks about Teh’s life he sounds and feels genuinely curious and happy for him in a way he really only can because he’s so sure of himself in it. He knows how he feels, how he felt, how he’s grown from then and that it’s time to move on, and he’s taken steps to do that. He’s really become his own person and it looks great on him. Meanwhile, Teh is awkward, averts his eyes whenever things hit too close to their past and dances around asking what he really wants to ask Oh-aew with stammers or lead on questions (like when he says Oh-aew can bring a plus one to Hoon’s wedding to see if he has a new boyfriend). It always feels like he’s kind of waiting for Oh-aew to say something to let him know he’s still thinking about him, that he feels how Teh does. But, Oh-aew speaks to Teh like they’re old friends, all the while Teh’s eyes linger on Oh-aew when he leaves, when he speaks, he leans in to sniff him when his head is down and he’s desperate to stay with him for as long as he can. It’s obvious what this has done to Teh and watching Oh-aew deny him what he’s looking for makes you feel pity for Teh and proud of Oh-aew all at the same time. It’s super great to watch when the facade breaks sometimes, though. Because, you can definitely see that some of Oh-aew’s confidence is definitely fake it till you make it type. He’s unsure at first whenever Teh makes his way into his space, and you can see how he still isn’t entirely ready or prepared to talk about relationships again with Teh, especially so when it’s revealed Teh broke up with his girlfriend weeks ago because they didn’t share the same thoughts anymore. I also think you can see it in their relationship status’. Though Teh isn’t in a relationship anymore, he’d opened himself up to someone else (though I think it was a Jai thing again, where it was just to have something to cling to which was familiar), while Oh-aew is single, turning away any chance of relationship (even when his friend hints to subtly liking him) even while he acts as though he is over Teh. It brings up bitter memories and Oh-aew ends up going deep into scolding Teh for not having fought harder for her or changed himself some to fit her when she couldn’t for him, it’s all spoken like he’s asking Teh why he didn’t do those things for him, like he’s telling him what exactly he wanted Teh to do for him when things got hard instead of what happened. But things ends on a warm note for their meeting, even if it’s obvious their both healing, they’re definitely not in any way holding resentment for the other, but rather a regret that seems to hang over both their heads for how things turned out, or a disappointment. Now, I just want to say, the play thing was a bad idea. Not just for showing to Oh-aew but also the play just seemed so bland? Like a spoken autobiography lacking a ton of context, I’m not sure Teh is passing with that work. But, for Teh, too, it was such a bad idea to force all that on Oh-aew. He thought it would be like a apology to Oh-aew through the play, that he’d be able to convey all his feelings in a way that wouldn’t have to be spoken recklessly in the moment and that Oh-aew would be able to understand him better, but again, he’s acting selfishly. He’s thinking about what he wants Oh-aew to see, what he wants him to hear, to understand and to even feel towards him but he never thinks maybe Oh-aew doesn’t have feelings for him anymore, or doesn’t want to get back together even if he does. Teh has spent all his waking hours feeling like something is missing without Oh-aew then becomes completely enamored with him all over again when they meet in person for the first time, it’s hard for him to believe Oh-aew hasn’t spent as much time on him as he has on Oh-aew, that he didn’t want everything to turn out differently and for them to still be together. But, Oh-aew has spent his time away from Teh trying his best to move on from him, to work himself into a place he can be happy for himself and for Teh without having those things be exclusive or his memories bitter, he’d been focusing on his gains and relishing in them, all up until Teh comes to crash the party with his presence and Oh-aew struggles not to fall back into him and what they had before, what he felt before when it ended. Still, he shows up to support Teh on his play when he receives a ticket, he’s being supportive and isn’t pushing Teh away or forcing the past on him when they meet, still, Teh forces his feelings on Oh-aew, what he felt again seeing him for the first time, his regrets, his struggles, and it’s all selfish even if he frames it in a way of wanting to make up to Oh-aew. He obviously doesn’t mean it as such, but it is the truth of the matter. It takes little for him to go back into the relationship because Oh-aew didn’t hurt him. He doesn’t have to make the decision to trust him again, trust his love, trust what he says about him because that was never a doubt for him, but Oh-aew has to think about those things in order to open himself up again. Bas was so cute when he showed up I screamed silently into the night because he is so baby faced I just want to squish his cheeks and hug him! He comes back to serve as some advice for Oh-aew on whether or not to take Teh back after he tells Teh he doesn’t want to get back together in the parking lot during the play. They talk about whether or not things can get better if you get back together after a break up and if Oh-aew’s feelings for Teh are good enough to warrant them getting back together or if there’s something better for him out there, whether he should allow Teh to ‘win’ by seeing he is still hung up over him or if moving on is better for his own sake. It’s short, but I’m just glad we get to see Bas. The scene feels weird a little, since we just saw Oh-aew having such an emotional reaction to the question of getting back together and now he is considering it, but I think it can be tied up to his feelings coming crashing down on him after he meets Teh again after all that time and even more so once he has to relive the failure of their relationship, so he’s stuck and conflicted with all these feelings on hand. This feeling of the revelation not exactly feeling right lasts all the way to the end, when they do get back together, because though it’s been built to for a little, we don’t even get the entire episode for it because they had so much to do this finale. But, okay, whatever, alright, I can’t stay mad at it. I love Oh-aew, I love Teh, I love ITSAY, I love IPYTM, there are flaws in all of those, but I love them still, I’m happy we got a happy ending, really. I was happy to see Teh’s mom again and Hoon, because they’re both a delight, was glad to see Teh’s friends and Khim making an appearance at the end, too. There are many upsets with how things padded out in them getting back together, especially the scene where it all comes together, because though I like Teh listening to Oh-aew, it skims over a lot of the issues we see reoccuring from before in this episode, so who can say if their relationship will be okay from here or not. I personally feel they may break up again but will not be able to stay from one another, so they may not be able to actually settle down until they’re old and grey and know each other best to avoid what has caused them trouble time and time again. Anyway, this was a ride and I definitely won’t stop talking about this forever, but yeah, it was the end! Goodbye to the crew, and the show, I’m gonna miss them so much and will think of them every time I play Skyline on my kalimba (it hits so different hearing the song this episode knowing how to play it now) and eat anything with coconuts or smell them, or see red and blue, or draw the sunset or when there’s a full moon or their songs come up on my playlist. I’ve accomplished a lot because of this series, accomplished a lot during, and I appreciate it so much. I always give so much grief to people blinded by nostalgia, but this is my exception, because I will always think positively of this series despite it all. Good bye! I am going to miss making time for this on thursdays and writing these at ungodly times of the morning! Thank you to all who worked on the series and read these reviews, I’ll miss it all! <3

[miceandmonsters]

Male Orc x Female Character

FWB to Friends to Lovers; nerd/jock; multi-chapter

You need to have actually had some old times for ‘old time’s sake’ to mean something, Ruban; 1.6k

Part 1

It was exactly four doorways, three hallways, and one frustratingly slow elevator ride between Nicole Williams and her crappy, crappy car in student parking. She knew the path well as she often left her advisor meetings to go straight to her car for… venting. Really it was the only spot on campus she could scream in frustration without having campus security called on her. Again.

As she watched her advisor give a personal lecture that completely missed the thesis of her project while belittling it anyway, the errant thought crossed her mind that she was paying for the privilege of being misunderstood and criticized. That was what broke her. 

She shot up to her feet, pulling her backpack over a shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Johnson. I just remembered that I have another meeting in ten minutes over in Windgate.” It was the furthest building that she could recall through the growing rage. “I’ll take your thoughts into account and email about setting up another meeting. Thankssomuch.”

Luckily, she made it out of the cramped, coffee-scented office without saying anything rude… well, ruder. She booked it around a corner and then collapsed against a wall, pinching her brow. Around her, doors slammed open and the hallway began to fill up. Deep breaths, she reminded herself, counting to ten before beginning again. At least this was the last appointment for her day. This nonsense from her advisor could wait till tomorrow. Plans of yoga pants and ice cream and trashy television immediately popped up, lifting her spirits somewhat. And then-- 

“Hey, Nikki.”

What fresh hell is this, she reactively wondered. 

Nicole turned around to find Ruban Stone, one of the star players on the school’s orc rugby team, standing just behind her with a notebook tucked under his elbow and a winning grin on his face. It was a large hallway, but he seemed to take up more than his fair share anyway. 

Checking surreptitiously around her to see if there was some other Nicole he actually meant to speak to, she frowned slightly and then replied, “Hey…” 

“Ruban Stone,” he said, resting a hand on his chest. “I don’t know if you--”

“Yeah, I remember.” 

“Oh. Good. Cool.” He nodded a few times, a rather pregnant pause following his introduction. “How’s the semester going for you?”

“...Fine?”

“Cool. That’s good.” Another pause, and her wonderings just got louder. Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped closer, asking in a lower tone, “Um, could I talk to you?”

Her frown twisted into something like confusion. What in the world could someone like Ruban Stone want with her? “Aren’t we talking now?”

“No, I mean.” He pointed to a classroom door then glanced around the hall. Right, probably didn’t want to be seen talking to little old her by any of his groupies. Honestly, she was surprised he knew her name.

She sighed but pulled the door open and stepped into the empty lecture hall. The lights were off but enough sunlight came through the windows to keep the room from being truly dark. As he followed, Nicole noticed his t-shirt was at least a size too small, the navy fabric pulling tight across his rather prodigious musculature. Normally, she might admire the view, but right now it just served to annoy her. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Ruban sucked in a breath. “You took College Algebra, right?”

“No, I tested out of it before I started college.”

His hopeful expression fell. “Right. Okay, how about this--do you ever do tutoring?”

Oh, this conversation made much more sense now. “I have in the past, but not this semester. There wasn’t time in my schedule for it.”

He nodded slowly, pressing his tusks into his upper lip nervously. “Would you… consider making an exception for me?” That winning grin spread across his face again. He must have thought it was charming. In other circumstances, it might have been a little.

Her eyebrows pulled together as she squinted at him--was he serious right now? “There’s a tutoring center on campus. They probably have someone whose whole job it is to tutor algebra.”

His grin grew brighter still, and he rolled the notebook between his hands. “I know, I just… I thought that you might give me a discount for…” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “For old times’ sake.”

“What old times?” she shot back before she could stop the words.

“We went to high school together,” he said as if she needed reminding.

“Yeah, and so did two hundred other students on this campus.”

He struggled for a moment to come up with some sort of counter argument, but eventually conceded. That stupid charming smile finally dropping away from his face. “Fine. Look. I know we’re not friends--”

“We’ve never spoken more than five words to each other.”

“Yeah. But I have a test next week in algebra. And if I don’t pull at least a B on it, I won’t have a high enough GPA to stay on the team. So Coach told me to find a tutor.”

Her eyebrow arched. “And I was the first name that jumped to your mind?” she asked, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

“Yeah, kinda. I remember graduation. You needed a wheelbarrow to cart all your medals around.”

“I didn’t need a wheelbarrow.”

“No, you’re right. You needed a forklift.”

She rolled her eyes. “So what? You thought because I’m smart, I would do pro-bono tutoring for you? Do you have any idea how busy this semester is for me? I’m graduating in May.”

He frowned. “We’ve only been here three years.”

“I’m graduating early.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”

She scoffed and shook her head. Today had already been far too long to deal with this shit. “Whatever, Ruban. Solve this yourself,” she snapped and turned for the door.

“Shit--wait.” Unfortunately, he was faster than she, getting to the door and blocking her way with a large hand slammed against the frame.

She glared up at him. “Move.”

“I’m sorry, alright? That was a dick move, I’m sorry. I just--I’m desperate here.”

“No, really?” she shot back, still pissed despite the apology.

“Yes. And I’m not asking for free tutoring, I promise I’m not. I figured we could trade.”

That made her pause. “Trade what?”

“You have something that I want, and… I bet I have something that you want,” he said, his voice pitching slightly lower and gaining an unmistakable gravel. It made her stomach clench in the best and most annoying way. But the idea came just far enough out of left field that she didn’t have a quippy come back.  

“Excuse me?” she replied, but she somehow couldn’t quite get the power behind the words that they probably should have possessed. Instead, it came out just above a whisper.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he held her gaze. “I bet you’re a busy woman, Nikki, too busy to really… take care of yourself.” His eyes, a warm amber brown, drifted from hers down to her lips then back up. “I could help with that. Throwing a ball and tackling guys to the ground aren’t the only things my body’s good at.”

Her mouth had gone very dry all of a sudden. “Uh…” Words, what were words other than mmmm yes? Should she be insulted by this? She honestly couldn’t quite decide because he was unfortunately very correct in his assumptions.

Ruban stepped closer, backing her up against the wall next to the door and boxing her in with his arms as her mind filled with exclamation points. He was quite a bit larger than her, all hard-packed muscle under deep green skin. He wasn’t actually touching her anywhere, but everything felt very palpable as he just stared at her. The air between them hummed with an electric current.

“If you’re not interested, just say ‘no’ and we can pretend this never happened,” he said in that same velvety tone.

But she really really didn’t want to say no. She had to look away from his face so she could catch her breath enough to respond. “I… um…”

“I remember the way you used to look at me back in high school. I bet I could make more than a few fantasies of yours come true.”

His voice was dark and full of so many promises. Combined with unhelpful inner voices reminding her precisely how long it’d been since she’d been with anyone else, she was having trouble coming up with a single reason to refuse. What was the harm, really?

“I’ll tutor you,” she finally said, looking somewhere past his elbow and blushing furiously.

His finger under her chin made her look up at him. “Thanks, Nikki,” he said, still low but more sincere than cloying now. He dipped his head, kissing her softly, reverently. By the gods, his lips were wonderfully full. The slight brush of his tusk against her cheek sent a thrill straight down to her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open a moment after he pulled back, and he was grinning down at her. “Little something in advance. Tomorrow night work for you?”

She nodded, pressing her lips together to stop the all too pleasant tingling. “Yep,” she squeaked.

“Cool. See you then.” He nodded once more and then left the classroom, leaving her blinking and feeling her still warm cheeks.

“What the fuck?” she whispered with no one but the empty desks to hear her.

Masterlist | Part Two

[amwritesitall]

The Sarahs as Songs from Folklore and Evermore

Masterlist

Link in the names are the Spotify playlists I have for each character. These playlists are a never ending work in progress. Some posts can be found on a few of them on the Masterlist link above.

The reasoning for these songs vary. Some are like I’m pitching you a thesis for an essay and others are just little blurbs. Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors! A lot of this was worked on after midnight, so there might be a few errors I missed.

Billie Dean Howard

“cowboy like me”

I've got some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me Never wanted love Just a fancy car Now I'm waiting by the phone Like I'm sitting in an airport bar You had some tricks up your sleeve Takes one to know one

You're a cowboy like me Perched in the dark Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear Like it could be love I could be the way forward Only if they pay for it

You gotta love Billie Dean. This song gives me Billie vibes in the way that the narrator never was really looking for love, they just kind of stumbled upon it. Billie Dean was never really looking since she was focused on her show and her career in general, wanting fame and fortune. Settling down for love wasn’t in the cards, but then she finds the perfect person and the person she ends up falling for is someone similar to her, never wanting to settle down. 

Long story short, two lady killers meet and fall for each other.

“august”

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

A lot of folklore gives me teen au vibes for a lot of these characters. This one makes me think of teen summer romance au with lady killer Billie Dean. For teen Billie, I just picture her having a whirlwind summer romance that doesn’t last long, but it leaves such an impact on her and the other person even after they’ve returned to someone else at the end of the summer.

Lana Winters

“betty”

Yeah, I showed up at your party Will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings? I'm only 17, I don't know anything But I know I miss you

I know this song isn’t gay, but I want it to be, so here we are. Pretty much my only reasoning for this one is teen au vibes.

“cardigan”

Sequin smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, I

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

Secret relationship with Lana and her giving her lover all the love she deserves. Lana Winters is such a loving person and from her trouble with her family and others in her life, she knows what it’s like to feel like “an old cardigan sweater under someone’s bed” and she doesn’t want her lover to ever feel like that.

Another thing about this is in the first three lines. Lana is a young woman working in a mainly male dominated field. All the men (most of them older as well) look down on her because she is a young woman assuming, as the lyrics suggests, that she knows nothing. I might be crazy, but I feel like these first few lines some up some of the Lana we know and see throughout season two and her multiple appearances in other seasons as well.

“dorothea”

Hey Dorothea Do you ever stop and think about me? When we were younger Down in the park Honey, making a lark of the misery You got shiny friends since you left town A tiny screen's the only place I see you now And I got nothing but well wishes for ya

Dear reader, I propose to you this, the narrator talking about our Lana Winters. Specifically, I’m referring to Lana towards the end of season two where she has gotten fame from her book and her newfound fame goes to her head a little bit. The spin is that along with this she’s got a lover back home that wishes her well, but misses her, yearns for her if you will. So, we’re going to pretend there’s an AU where Lana’s got a lover back home and watches this all occur.

Cordelia Goode

“my tears ricochet”

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears

CORDELIA HAS BEEN DONE DIRTY BY QUITE A FEW PEOPLE IN HER LIFE. Sis has been done dirty by Fiona, Hank, and problem a few other people we don’t even know about. 

This song makes me think of a few different things with Cordelia. The Fiona aspect is 1) Fiona’s anger with Cordelia for being the Supreme instead of being happy and proud of her daughter and 2) Fiona’s overall poor treatment of Cordelia.

You could also interpret this as Cordelia’s awful relationship with good ol toxic Hank. Cordelia didn’t deserve the awful treatment from Hank and Fiona. Cordelia is trying to deal with all of this and she loved these people, but they treated her so poorly and in the end it’s going to come back and bite them in the end.

“tolerate it”

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it If it's all in my head, tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine

This song HURTS me. You can interpret this song a few different ways, but the way I interpret it for Cordelia is to look at it as a mother/daughter relationship between her and Fiona.

As a child, Cordelia always wanted to impress her mother. Her mother was the Supreme after all, so she had a lot to live up to (makes me think of “Now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”). She’s giving it her all like the lyrics “Use my best colors for your portrait / Lay the table with the fancy shit.” The first line from the excerpt above also points to Cordelia still seeking this approval even now that she’s an adult. She does all of this for her mother, but in return her mother just merely tolerates it. It never seems like enough to impress her even though Cordelia is a successful and overall incredible woman. She always feels like she’s not enough, merely getting in the way (”Always taking up too much space or time”).

“ivy”

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed He's in the room Your opal eyes are all I wish to see He wants what's only yours

AU AU AU AU AU

Picture it: a historical au with a forbidden love between Lady Cordelia Goode and a normal working class gal, however, Cordelia has been promised to marry another, say Hank. Secret relationship ensues.

I have so many thoughts on this au

Bette and Dot Tattler

“seven”

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

This song just captures the innocence that I think fits Bette and Dot really well. It’s hard to find songs to fit these two, but I really think this one has their vibes.

“willow”

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in As if you were a mythical thing Like you were a trophy or a champion ring And there was one prize I'd cheat to win The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man

Like “seven,” this song captures the innocent, sweet vibes that these two have. This one adds to the hopeless romantic aspect that both Bette and Dot have as well.

Sally McKenna

“hoax”

This has broken me down My twisted knife My sleepless night My win-less fight This has frozen my ground

Stood on the cliffside Screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue But you No other sadness in the world would do 

Sally is a sad bitch. Poor girl has been heart broken and I elaborate on this next part more later. With her love, Sally doesn’t want to move on from that person since she believed they were the love of her life, however, now they’ve betrayed her and are gone and she’s alone once again.

“right where you left me”

Everybody moved on, I I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

Right where you left me You left me no Oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever You left me

AHHHH THIS IS A SALLY SONG! I’ve had this post in my drafts since evermore came out and I was worried I wouldn’t have much for Sally, but then this bonus track came out and I couldn’t not think of Sally when I listened to it.

This is another one of those songs that you can interpret literally or figuratively. In Sally’s case you could definitely interpret this as her being trapped as a literal ghost in the Cortez after her lover leaves her but you can also look at it in terms of Sally’s personality. In love, Sally seems like the person to hold onto someone long after they are gone and moved on. She loves hard, so it is extremely hard for her to move on. I think that if she found the person she believed was the right person and they ended up leaving her, she wouldn’t move on from them at all. She’d be holding on, waiting for them to come back even if they never do.

Audrey Tindall

“the 1″

But we were something, don't you think so? Roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would've been you In my defense, I have none For never leaving well enough alone But it would've been fun If you would've been the one

Audrey looking back on a love from another time. Basically I want all of the AUs. I wish I had more to say, but vibes.

“mirrorball”

And they called off the circus Burned the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

This song makes me think of Audrey having to be different versions of herself for everyone through her career path and being a celebrity because she wants so desperately for people to love her and everything she does. She loves the spotlight with “I’m still on that trapeze / I’m still trying everything / To keep you looking at me,” and she’s such a people pleaser that she’ll do anything to get people to continue to like her even if sometimes there’s nothing you can do (”And they called off the circus / Burned the disco down”). I come to this conclusion through Audrey’s insecurities about her age that we see in the second half of season six with her relationship with Rory. 

“champagne problems”

Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems

I’m not gonna lie, I don’t have a huge interpretation for this one. This kinda just makes me think of angsty au with Audrey.

“’tis the damn season”

So we could call it even You could call me babe for the weekend 'Tis the damn season, write this down I'm stayin' at my parents' house And the road not taken looks real good now And it always leads to you in my hometown

Out of everyone, Audrey is the person I picture going back to the ex for the holidays. She wants get cuffed for the holiday season even if it’s only for a little while.

“invisible string”

Green was the color of the grass Where I used to read at Centennial Park I used to think I would meet somebody there...

Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Audrey is definitely the type of person to believe in fate. To her everything happens for a reason and one day she’s going to find her soulmate. Overall, big Audrey Tindall vibes.

Ally Mayfair-Richards

“mad woman”

Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy What about that? And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry

And there's nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around And there's nothing like a mad woman

You cannot tell me that Ally did not ghost write this like damn this song screams Ally. This song is literally all about how society has a habit of gaslighting women and that’s exactly what happened to Ally for most of season seven. The entire season focused on Kai’s cult working to convince Ally that she’s going insane and when people wouldn’t believe the very real terror’s she was suffering from, it pushed her closer and closer to madness until she nearly breaks from it all.

“no body, no crime” feat. HAIM

Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen And I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me ("She was with me dude") Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

They think she did it but they just can't prove it They think she did it but they just can't prove it She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it No, no body, no crime I wasn't letting up until the day he died

We love a homicidal queen. Ally isn’t in SCUM for nothing. Also I’m pretty sure this is my favorite song from evermore because I’m in love with the vibes.

“marjorie”

Never be so polite, you forget your power Never wield such power, you forget to be polite

This bit of the song just makes me think of how Ally holds herself at the end of the season. It’s a simple, but still expresses the perfect message.

“closure”

It's been a long time And seeing the shape of your name Still spells out pain It wasn't right The way it all went down Looks like you know that now

Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better

ALLY DOESN’T NEED YOUR APOLOGY! SHE’S A BAD BITCH

Wilhemina Venable

“exile” feat. Bon Iver

All this time We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out  You never gave a warning sign 

All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around  'Cause you never gave a warning sign

For these lyrics I’m picturing Mina’s lover saying/thinking them. Mina isn’t used to love, so when she finally falls for someone and they reciprocate those feelings she gets scared. She shuts them out without any warning sign because she’s not sure how to handle all these intense feelings for this person.

“illicit affairs”

Make sure nobody sees you leave Hood over your head Keep your eyes down Tell your friends you're out for a run You'll be flushed when you return Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings And longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times

The connotation of these lyrics is everything in my interpretation of it with Wilhemina. The story line is similar to the song “ivy,” but the connotation of the affairs taking place is completely different. “ivy” is all about a forbidden but loving relationship, while “illicit affairs” has a more negative connotation to where the affair is tearing the person apart. This song makes me think of a secret relationship with Wilhemina where her lover wants something more than just a secret affair, but Wilhemina isn’t willing to open herself up enough for that. This affair turns into something that isn’t working well for the lover, but they want Wilhemina so much that they put up with whatever they can get.

Mildred Ratched

“happiness”

Honey, when I'm above the trees I see it for what it is But now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness You haven't met the new me yet And I think she'll give you that

I don’t have much in the interpretation department for this one, but this song does make me think of Mildred’s personality. This song has the vulnerability and a bit of bitterness that I feel like Mildred would have in a situation like this. I’m not exactly sure how to describe it but this makes me think of her outlook on love and heartbreak.

“evermore” feat. Bon Iver

I rewind the tape but all it does is pause On the very moment all was lost Sending signals To be double crossed

And I was catching my breath Barefoot in the wildest winter Catching my death And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar That this pain would be for Evermore

This girl has been “double crossed.” My woman Mildred has been done dirty. This makes me think of angsty Mildred getting betrayed by someone who she trusted in love. And I don’t it’s sad and I thought of some sad vibes with bb millie.

“epiphany”

With you, I serve With you, I fall down, down Watch you breathe in Watch you breathing out, out

Something med school did not cover Someone's daughter, someone's mother Holds your hand through plastic now "Doc, I think she's crashing out" And some things you just can't speak about

Nurse Mildred Ratched. That is all folks.

“gold rush”

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you

At dinner parties I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town We wandered 'round had never Seen a love as pure as it And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause you know it could never be

Call me crazy BUT this song makes me think of Mildred. She’s the type of person that isn’t really comfortable with love. She doesn’t like to be vulnerable and this pushes her to be uncomfortable with little things like someone making her blush. Love is new to her.

She is also envious of the effect this person has on her and, in turn, the effect that person has on everyone else because they are so stunning. When they do get together it is the type of love that poetry is written about. Witty banter and fiery gazes but also the gentle caress of a hand while walking along the shore. 

This love is perfect in every way, but of course there must also be a level of angst to nearly all stories and the angst with this one is the fact that the time period Mildred is around in does not allow her to love her lover openly and freely. Overtime this might cause a strain on the relationship with the line “And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea / ‘Cause you know it could never be.” Her and her lover both know that society would condemn them for who they are.

Harriet Hayes

“peace”

'Cause there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Harriet is a big celebrity. She has paparazzi hounding her all the time and once she’s in a relationship they start hounding that person too. It’s a lot for a person and a relationship. Harriet can change that aspect of their relationship (”But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me”), but she can provide her lover with as much love she can give. She will always try her best for the person she truly, truly loves her. There may be some bumps along the way (like the next song) but she will do her best and hopefully that’s enough for her lover because she can’t ever completely give them peace.

“this is me trying”

I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying I just wanted you to know That this is me trying

They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad

The last line gives me hella Harriet vibes because I feel like when she’s angry she’s kind of blinded by it. She’s the type of person that says some really hurtful things that she doesn’t mean when she’s angry. 

Looking deeper, I get Harriet vibes from the beginning in the sense that Harriet is just trying to do the best that she can in a relationship, but it’s just not really working out. She has her career the “shiniest wheel,” however, now that’s slowing down and she’s lost on what to do with her relationships. She wants everything to work out like how she did so well so quick with her career, but everything isn’t working out like that.

[scarletwinterxx]

Timeless pt. 1

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART TWO.5 || PART THREE || PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX || FINALE

“I’m here, i’m here I’m so sorry I’m late” 

The words rushed out of my mouth while Doyoung just looked at me with an unimpressed expression on his face. 

He looked like he has a thousand other places he’d rather be than here. I don’t blame him. I hated this too. The occasional dinner with the parents could be draining, we’re never sure what would happen.

“You’re fine, they haven’t noticed yet” he said then helped me with my bag, taking it from me and slinging it on his shoulder while I try to make myself look more presentable. 

“Traffic was bad, and my professor held me back to talk about my thesis and it’s raining outside. Everything was a mess”

A small smile appeared on Doyoung’s face, I knew it meant he understood what I was trying to say. Years of knowing him, I can already read what’s on his mind without saying a word. 

“Sounds like you had a fun day” he said making me roll my eyes in exchange, I hear him laugh a bit at my action

“You ready?” He asked me, handing me back my bag after I collected myself. He held his arm out for me to take. I took one deep breath before looping my arms with his, my hand grasping on his. The shiny ring I’ve been wearing for years on display. 

“Let’s do this.”

When we stepped in the restaurant where both of our parents were waiting, I knew we were in for a long night. There will be a lot of business talk, I already know that. With my graduation fast approaching they would probably want to talk about the wedding too. 

The plan was to get married after both of us graduated from college. Doyoung was a year ahead of me and is now working at their company while I was still attending university.

It’s my last year, a couple of months away from my graduation. We knew this dinner was going to be about the wedding.

We never really talk about it when it’s just the two of us, we don’t talk about our engagement at all. We’ve known each other pretty much our whole lives, our father’s met in their college days and are still friends until now. Somewhere along the way, they realized one has a son and one has a daughter.

We were good friends, Doyoung and I. I say were because ever since we got engaged it feels like we’ve been tiptoeing around each other. Both us didn’t know how to handle it, maybe it hasn’t sunk in yet. In our minds we were still just friends. No heavy burden set by our parents regarding our future. 

I didn’t hate our situation but do I wish it was different? Yes. 

I wish we had the choice to make this decision by ourselves.

“They’d probably start to ask about the wedding” Doyoung said from beside me, I looked up at him but he was still looking ahead of us

“I know, what do we say?” I ask him, this time he stopped walking making me halt my steps too then turned and looked down at me. I barely reached past his chin so when he looks at me he has to look down and I had to look up. 

It was cute, I used to think. 

“Say what you feel, say what you want to do. It’s our wedding. Don’t forget you call the shots” 

“As much as how fun that sounds we both know they would end up making the decisions for us” I replied back but he just shot me a quick smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He hated the fact that I was right but he didn’t want to be upset. 

“Want to just runaway and get married somewhere they don’t know?” his question made me smile and feel a bit relaxed, at least he could crack a joke here and there. It made me feel this night won’t be as bad.

“Don’t tempt me” I mumbled, holding a little tighter on his arm. Just as he was about to say another word we hear someone calling for us

“There they are. Just remember-”

“together. We’re in this together” I finished his sentence, this time a small but genuine smile appeared on his face. It was something we always say to each other whenever we had to meet with our parents. 

We are a team, him and I. Even if we’re still unsure about how we feel regarding our situation, atleast I know we’re in this together. We weren’t on opposite sides. I’m glad he never misses the chance to remind me we’re still on the same side. 

“There you are, you two look great” My mother said the moment we got to their table. We greeted all of them before taking our own seats, Doyoung pulling out the chair for me before occupying the seat beside me. 

“What took you so long?” My father asked

“It was raining and I got held up at university”

“You’re graduating this fall right?” Doyoung’s mom asked excitedly, we knew what was about to come next. 

“Yes she is, you know we should probably start planning the wedding. We’re a bit tight on schedule, we should’ve started at the beginning of this year” My mother droned out, the two matriarchs gushing on and on about our wedding. 

I looked over at Doyoung, saying ‘I told you so’ with my eyes

“Have you guys decided on a date yet?” this time all eyes were on us, the two of us exchanging looks because I wasn’t sure what to say too

“We’re not sure yet, we’ve yet to talk about it since Y/N’s been pretty busy with school. I’m sure we can plan after when her schedule’s less busy” Doyoung answered for the both of us, the words I had in mind didn’t need to be said because he already said it for me. 

He knew me too well. 

We know each other too well. 

“We can help out” my mom said, sharing a look with Doyoung’s mother to which she agreed to

“We appreciate that, thank you. We’ll tell you more once we talk about it” Doyoung answered again with a polite smile. My hand finding its way towards his, gently giving it a squeeze.

He didn’t even bat an eyelash, he just took my hand and intertwined it with his then rested it on his lap under the table. 

“How about you, dear? How have you been?” mom asked him, “He’s been doing good. I heard you’re the one who secured the merger with the Thailand branch” my dad added, he did sound genuinely impressed. 

My dad have always liked Doyoung, he was everything he wished his future son-in-law would be.

“He did, it was a smart move choosing them. Would have never thought of it myself but Doyoung convinced me otherwise” His dad said then landed a pat on Doyoung’s shoulder

“If we’re thinking about expanding, I want to be more than just in places where it’s already known. I try and think of partnerships that they would least expect, given that it’s risky but isn’t that how our business started. If we play on the safer side, we’d never see the full picture” Doyoung answered confidently, he knew what he was talking about. 

The thing about Doyoung is he was born for this. Some might think that it’s because he’s the smart guy, but really this is something that comes naturally to him. 

I’ve been a firsthand witness to his antics, multiple times during our childhood days he would bargain his lunch with mine, always setting up for a trade and somehow he would always convince me to do so. 

The rest of dinner was spent just like that, going back and forth to the topic of wedding and business. When it was time to go, we bid our goodbyes and went our own ways.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home” Doyoung said as he guide the both of us out of the restaurant. His hand on the small of my back. 

“How long do you think we have?” I asked, breaking the silence inside the car as he drives me home

“Mhm?”

“Before they ask about the wedding again”

“Before your graduation probably, if they can have it their way they would schedule a fitting for your wedding gown now” he chuckled

“Uh we kinda already did” I mumbled, I never really told him because well one it never came up two isn’t there this old belief that the groom isn’t suppose to see the wedding dress before the wedding anyways

“You did? When?”

“Like last year before Christmas, my mom and your mom thought it was the perfect time to go. I couldn’t say no”

“You didn’t call me?” he asked again, at this I smiled. I knew he was going to ask that

“You’re not suppose to see me in the dress until the wedding day, silly”

“We’re going to get married no matter what, might as well see if you look cute in it” His reason made my cheeks burn but I knew he was just teasing me

“I looked cute it in, thank you very much”

After that we just went back to the comfortable silence, for a while neither of us said anything. We enjoyed the silence, it’s never an awkward atmosphere but more comforting in a way. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re the one I’m marrying” Doyoung said out of nowhere, we were at a red light so this time he looked at me when he said this

“Well that’s good to know” I chuckled, this was the first time since we were told we were to be engaged and married that we fully acknowledge it. Most of the time we only talk about it with our parents, but right now it’s just the two of us. 

“I’m sorry if this isn’t the way you imagined getting married, you didn’t even get a proper proposal” His voice sounded sorry and sad even when he said it with a chuckle. 

I know he’s probably feeling the same way, but he didn’t have to say sorry over something we both had no control over. 

I took his hand in mine, rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. Besides, I’m happy too”

The light turned green, instead of letting go of my hand which I thought he would do he just kept his hold on mine. One hand on the wheel and one on mine. 

“I feel like I lost a friend when they told me about the engagement. Out of everyone, I thought why you. Why did they have to take that one constant person out of my life and make it more complicated”

I’ve never heard his point of view before, I never knew that was how he felt. For so long I believed he was acting a bit cold towards me because he disliked our engagement.

It did feel like I lost a friend. Turns out he was feeling the same way, but not for the reason I thought of

“What made you change your mind about it?” I asked him

“You”

“Me?”

“My first thought was why you when it should have been why not you. No one knows me like you do, atleast I don’t have to walk on eggshells or worry over not liking my future wife”

When he said future wife I got this feeling in my chest, like my heart beat twice before returning back to normal. My cheeks starting to turn crimson again because of this guy beside me. 

“It wouldn’t be too bad to spend the rest of my life with my bestfriend, don’t you think so?” he spared me a quick glance before turning his attention back on the road. I just smiled at him, gave his hand a squeeze before turning my attention back outside.

Suddenly, this day just got a bit better.  

[koala-otter]

a little gaang modern AU

more (zukka!) prompts coming but for now have some modern AU silliness featuring the gaang as a bunch of goofy young adults on a road trip

might write another part to this but also might not :) (so lmk if you like it)

that’s all i have please enjoy 

2k words

Aang rings the doorbell of the small, white house only for the door to swing open as soon as he pulls his hand back. Katara stands in front of him with a dazzling smile, immediately grabbing his arm to pull him into the foyer. 

“I watched you walk up,” she explains. She lets him go and starts up the stairs to her room. “I just have to finish packing, and I’ll be right down. Two seconds.” At the top of the stairs, she turns and calls back down to Aang, “Sokka’s in the living room!”

Aang smiles as he watches her go and tugs on the straps of his backpack on his shoulders. He hears someone walking toward him, but where he expects to see Sokka, Hakoda appears in the archway leading to the kitchen and dining room.

“Aang,” Hakoda says warmly, coming forward to clasp the young man’s arm. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too, Chief Hakoda,” Aang replies, grinning broadly. 

Hakoda stands back and looks down at the empty space next to Aang. “No Appa?” he asks of the dog normally at Aang’s heels.

“Appa hates long car rides, so Gyatso offered to take care of him for the week,” Aang explains. “Now that he’s getting older, we just want to do what’s most comfortable for him.”

“Makes sense,” Hakoda says with a sympathetic smile. “How is your grandfather?”

Aang shrugs, but keeps the smile on his face. “He’s managing. I keep asking him to lower his hours at the bakery, but he won’t let up.”

Just then, Sokka walks in bearing a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Hey, Dad, have you seen—Aang!” Sokka rushes over to rub his bald head, even though Aang has grown taller than him in the last year. 

“Hi, Sokka.” Aang laughs good-naturedly as he pulls away. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Almost.” Sokka turns back to his father and asks, “Have you seen my keys? I can’t find them anywhere.”

“Are they not on the hooks?” Hakoda asks, gesturing to where they’re mounted on the wall. 

“My car keys,” Sokka clarifies. 

Hakoda’s face betrays his complete ignorance of their location. “Maybe you should ask—”

“They’re in the pocket of your blue hoodie.” 

The three men look up to find Katara coming down the stairs, a large tote bag tucked under her arm, and her wavy hair loose and bouncing around her shoulders. She points out the hoodie in question, tossed on a bench under where the family hangs up their jackets, while she steps into a pair of white sneakers. 

“You left them after we got back from dinner last night,” she explains as Sokka fishes through the sweatshirt. 

He holds the keys up triumphantly. “Finally, men, our journey begins!” he cries. He lowers his arm, tossing the keys in the air and catching them, and then flinging the hoodie over his other shoulder. “All right, let’s go.”

They each take turns hugging Hakoda and promising him to drive safely, and then pile into Sokka’s car, a fifteen-year-old SUV, sporting big tires and a fairly high ride height, handed down to him by his father.

“Aang, you sit in front,” Sokka says as he pulls open the driver’s door and climbs up into the car.

“Why does Aang get to sit in the front?” Katara asks even though she’s already seated behind them.

“Because Zuko’s actually going to sit in front,” Sokka replies matter-of-factly, checking his mirrors, “and I don’t wanna fight with you when I have to tell you to get in the back.”

Katara scoffs. “We wouldn’t have to fight.” She grabs the backs of their seats and leans toward Aang. “Aang, trade seats with me.”

“Okay,” Aang says readily. He unbuckles his seatbelt.

Sokka puts his arm out across Aang’s chest to keep him where he is. “Aang, don’t move,” he says. “Katara, he’s 6’3”, you’re going to make him sit in the back where there’s no leg room?”

“You’re about to make him sit in the back where there’s no leg room!” Katara exclaims. 

“Uh, guys,” Aang says uneasily, “it’s really no big deal.” The fight is typical of the dynamic he’s been managing since they were all kids.

“See?” Sokka says, finally pulling the car out of the driveway and out onto the road. “Aang says it’s no big deal.”

Aang hears Katara retreat to the backseat with a little huff of breath. 

“Don’t worry, Katara,” he says, craning his neck to look back at her. “I’ll be in the back with you soon.”

Katara smiles back at him despite herself.

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive at Zuko’s house, and as soon as they do, Sokka gives two short blasts on the horn. Almost immediately, three figures emerge from the house. Zuko and Suki wave goodbye to Iroh and begin walking toward the car, while Sokka jumps out and runs over to help grab their bags.

“Hey, Iroh!” Sokka calls out to the older man. He kisses Zuko’s cheek and grabs his boyfriend’s black leather backpack. 

“How wonderful to see you again,” Iroh says kindly. His expression turns analytic as he scans the space between Sokka and the car. “Where is your sister? I thought she was going with you.” It’s no secret that Katara is a favorite of his.

Katara rolls down her window and thrusts her upper body through the new hole in the door. “Hi, Uncle Iroh!” she calls.

He waves at her enthusiastically. “Have a fun trip,” he tells her. “You must be very excited; you are practically glowing, like an early summer moon flower.”

Aang cannot help smiling and agreeing as he watches Katara brighten. 

“Thank you,” she says sweetly. “You look wonderful, too! I hope Zuko’s help at the shop is giving you the chance to get more rest.”

“He didn’t say I was glowing,” Suki hisses to Zuko. After going over to Zuko’s to wait for their ride, she’s just spent an hour bonding with Iroh herself.

“You don’t write your thesis and buy three pots of tea at the shop every day,” Zuko whispers back with a shrug. In a louder voice, he says, “We should hurry. We don’t want to be stuck in traffic.”

“Zuko, where are your manners?” Iroh stops him. “You haven’t asked your friends if they’d like any tea.”

“But, Uncle, we’re about to leave,” Zuko says in a slightly exasperated tone.

“So? It’s no excuse not to offer them a refreshment. You’re in for a long drive.”

Zuko turns to his friends with a sigh. “Would anyone like a cup of tea?” he asks, clearly conscious of his uncle watching expectantly from behind him. 

“I’d love one,” Aang says, popping his own head out of the car, “but Toph just texted me asking if we were on the road yet, and I really don’t wanna see what she’ll do to me if I tell her no.” He waves his phone in the air. “Sorry, Iroh!” 

Iroh raises his hand in the air as a greeting. “It is no problem,” he says with a smile. “You mustn’t keep her waiting.”

“We’ll come by the shop as soon as we get back,” Aang promises, gesturing between himself and Katara. 

“Well, you heard him, team,” Sokka says, leading the charge back to the car. “Let’s not keep Toph waiting.”

Aang gets out of his seat so Zuko can sit next to Sokka, and Katara moves into the middle so Suki and Aang can sit on either side of her. They all wave goodbye to Iroh as the car pulls out of the driveway and heads for the highway. 

“How far is it to Toph’s house anyway?” Suki asks after a while.

“Well, I wouldn’t really call it a house,” Aang says thoughtfully. “It’s more like an estate.”

“It’s the old Beifong summer home,” Katara clarifies, “built over a hundred years ago with their mining fortune. ‘Estate’ might not even cover it—it’s not quite a palace?” She looks to Aang for confirmation. “But it’s as close as you’ll get to one today.”

“And the real question,” Sokka adds, removing his hand from Zuko’s thigh to raise it in the air, his index finger extended to emphasize his point, “isn’t how far it is, but where it is.” 

He puts his hand back, and Zuko smiles contentedly.

“Wait, what?” Suki asks. “Did you just say we don’t know where we’re going?”

Sokka shrugs and glances in his mirror before moving his eyes back to the road. “Don’t worry, I put together the directions,” he says. “Zuko?”

Zuko pulls something out of the glove compartment and unfolds it to reveal a laminated map of the western Earth Kingdom. Roughly-drawn red arrows point to blue circles sketched on top of mountain ranges and lakes, and a looping dotted line has been thrown in, too, seemingly to throw the viewer off any sort of trail. Suki tries to study the markings. Katara sighs when she sees them. Aang takes one look and chooses instead to stare out the window.

“The Beifong summer home sits in a valley between two mountains an hour outside of Gaoling,” Zuko explains. He points to the map. “Here.”

He waits for Suki’s nod before continuing. 

“And we’re all the way over here,” he says, pointing again. “So, we have to go through—huh.” He studies the map. “Oh, we have to go through here. But wait, that’s not right. The Serpent’s Pass? Oh, no, what I meant was here. Or, hold on.” He stares at the map and its markings again, and the only sound in the car is the rush of the wind coming in through the windows. 

“Sokka, this is impossible to read!” 

Sokka gasps. “You called it ‘meticulous’ before,” he says with an accusing tone. 

“Yeah, before I actually tried to use it.” Zuko shakes the map. “How the hell are we going to get there with this?”

Suki leans in close to Katara to whisper, “Boy, am I glad it’s not me up there.”

Katara stifles a laugh into her hand.

“Look, I made the map, so I can read it,” Sokka says with finality in his tone. “It’ll take us right to the Beifongs’ front door.”

“But Sokka, you’re driving,” Zuko almost complains.

“So? I can look over if I need to.” Sokka starts craning his neck to view the map on Zuko’s lap. “I can even keep one eye on the road while I—”

“Sokka,” Katara says sharply.

“All right, all right,” Sokka says, focusing back on the stretch of road in front of them. “Sheesh.”

“Come on, guys,” Aang says cheerfully, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

“I asked if you were prepared this morning, and you said you were,” Zuko continues arguing.

“I was! I made the map!” Sokka cries indignantly.

Zuko shakes the map once more. “How is this prepared?”

Sokka sighs in aggravation. “Look, if you’re so worried, Wan Shi Tong it.”

“What?”

“I said, just look it up!”

“Are you crazy? The Beifong summer home is not going to be on Wan Shi Tong maps,” Zuko says almost condescendingly.

A loud beep sounds from the backseat, followed by an automated, wise-sounding voice monotoning, “Starting route to the Beifong Summer Villa.”

Everyone but Sokka whirls around to look at Aang. 

“Hey, look at that,” he says. He holds his phone up with a grin. “They have it.”

Katara laughs out loud as Zuko begrudgingly looks up the address on his own phone. Everyone settles into companionable silence, allowing the sounds of the wind and the automated voice giving directions to replace any conversation. After a while, Suki even begins to drift off, her temple pressed against the glass of her half-open window. Aang watches the trees and the other cars on the highway pass by them, until he feels a tug on his arm. 

He looks down to find Katara looping her arm through his and leaning her head on his shoulder. She tilts her head up when she feels his eyes on her. 

“Is this okay?” she asks. 

Aang nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” She smiles lightly and lets her head drop back down to his shoulder. “It’s a good thing you’re here,” she says quietly to him, amusement in her tone.

A light blush rises in Aang’s cheeks, and he cannot help grinning. When Katara’s this close, he can smell the jasmine of her perfume. 

“Yeah, good thing,” he agrees. 

The smile stays on his face as he looks back out the window.

[starrynite7114]

everything is you: four

A/N: My lovelies! Happy weekend! So, I got carried away and wrote over 8000 words for this update. You all had me so inspired with just the feedback you’ve given this story. I am truly honored by all your comments, reactions, likes and everything. I hope you all will continue to support and like the story! This is just the beginning and it’s going to get better from here! 

All of your reaction to Angel was absolutely amazing! Hope he wins you some of you back on this update!

I hope to post some other content by the end of the weekend! Whether its snapshots or a request, I will try my best to post something!

Requests are open if you lovely peeps would like to make a request!

Love you all! <3

everything is you

one : two : three

Word count: 8466

Masterlist

Request list

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @ifoundmyhappythought : @carlaangel86 : @marvelmaree : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @whyisgmora : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @briannab1234 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespasta : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life : @mheart27 : @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @soamayansfangirl : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon  : @getyourcrayoncas : @nich0lasmatthews : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @nakusaych9 : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @itskiranbitch : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @khyharah : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @fuzzy-jellyfish : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy​ : @courtrae89 

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave a comment or shoot me with a message! My memory can be awful at times, please don’t be shy to remind me! 

CREDIT TO THE ORIGINAL GIF CREATOR

Angel watched as Cruz walked in front of him, trying to not be annoyed with Alena. It was her so called friendly date last night and she didn’t answer her phone and she didn’t come home. Now, Angel wanted to be reasonable that she fell asleep or drank too much after her date, but his irrational side was winning. Did Alena sleep with him? Did he take advantage of his sweet innocent Alena? 

Cruz stopped in front of the door, waiting for his father to open it. Angel unlocked the door letting Cruz run inside. He closed the door and he almost fucking lost it.

Victor was chuckling walking out of Alena’s bedroom, with her following after him, messy hair and giggling. 

“The fuck is this?” Angel let out before he could stop himself.

“Mommy! You had a sleepover without me?” Cruz pouted, running to Alena’s arms. She picked him up, trying not to look at Angel. She knew how bad this looked, but they were binge watching Umbrella Academy and fell asleep.

Completely innocent.

Completely platonic.

But she knew Angel wouldn’t give a fuck.

This was so confusing for her. He was acting like a jealous husband, but he had stated multiple times he wasn’t interested.

“Hey, man, sorry about that. I know your routine but we fell asleep binge watching Umbrella Academy.” Victor explained but he could tell nothing was even registering. “I’m gonna go, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.” He kisses her cheeks before fist bumping Cruz. He nodded his head at Angel, but his eyes were just on Alena. 

When Victor was gone, Angel just shook his head. “Where’s your phone? Do you not know how to charge your phone?” He was trying to hide his annoyance but he couldn’t.

“I, it was on silent, sorry.” Alena rarely put her phone on silent, just in case Cruz has an emergency. But last night, she really wanted to enjoy her night out with Victor, a pure adult outing that she didn’t know she needed. Carla was right, she gave so much to Angel and Cruz, mommy needs a break too.

“How was your date?” Angel moved past her and into her bedroom. He had to check, make sure there was no fucking condoms. 

Fuck, what if she let him go bare. 

No fuck that.

“We didn’t do anything Angel. We really just watched Netflix.” Alena knew what Angel was doing and she wanted to smack him for even thinking she would sleep with Victor. Their situation was different, which was why she slept with Angel, but not anymore, she had to be strong. No more crossing boundaries. Kisses were acceptable, but sex, absolutely not. 

“I know, I saw Umbrella Academy pop up on my tv.” Angel turned to her, hands on his hips. “This is ridiculous Alena, you can’t just silence your phone. What if there was an emergency?” He was being unreasonable, he knew, but this was bothering him. How could she even go on this dinner with Victor? She was basically entertaining the idea of giving him a chance. 

“Why is daddy mad?” Cruz wrapped his arms around Alena’s neck, whispering it into her ear. 

“Daddy isn’t mad, he’s just frustrated cause Mommy’s phone was off again.” Alena kissed Cruz’s cheek. “You’re not mad, right daddy?” 

Angel wanted to scream. How can she call him daddy with Cruz right there? He knew her meaning right now was obviously different, but she was driving him crazy. He tried to initiate sex with her four times and each and every time, Alena rejected him. She’ll let him kiss her, but as soon as he even tried to take it to the next level? Fucking forget about it. Now, he was sexually frustrated and everything going on with the club, he could just take so much.

“No Cruzito, daddy isn’t mad.” Angel narrowed his eyes at Alena who had a knowing smirk on her face. “But aren’t you mad at mommy? She promised you that she would come home when we called her yesterday and she didn’t come home. She had a sleepover without you.”

It was now Alena’s turn to narrow her eyes at Angel. How dare he try to use Cruz against her. 

“Cruzie, you’re mad at mama?” Alena pouted and Angel groaned inwardly knowing Cruz’s answer.

“I can never be mad at you mama.” Cruz kissed Alena, hugging her, his cheek against hers.

Alena smirked at Angel who rolled his eyes. 

“Cruzito, you’re gonna throw papi under the bus like that?” 

“Mommy’s my favorite.” Cruz continued to hold Alena.

“Cruz, what about all the times you and I spend together? When mommy comes, daddy is thrown away?” Angel crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. “Ooh, you two just wait, when we have a little girl cielo, me and her are going to have tea parties and you’re not invited.”

“A little girl? We’re having more kids?” Alena wasn’t aware of this plan. Cruz always asked them for a playmate, to ask the stork for a playmate, but Alena and Angel were always able to weasel their way out of it. At times, Alena was wondering when Angel was going to have another kid. And if he did have another kid, what happened then? Though, Angel always seemed devoted to her and Cruz, but they technically weren’t together regardless of the rings on their fingers. Angel had discussed having another kid with her and he would tell her unless she was the mom, he didn’t want another kid. If she was being honest, with the amount of time her and Angel had sex without a condom on, she was surprised she wasn’t pregnant. She took a plan B a few times and she was currently on birth control. The only time Angel ever used a condom with her was when they first had sex otherwise, he was always bare. 

Which brought them back to Angel’s confusing words. He could be a thesis class in college. One day he was seemingly in love with her then the next day, it was like nothing happened. She was done with it and she was putting her foot down. The more distance she put between them, the better it would be at the end of them. It would be easier to break free.

That was a joke, but Alena had her hopes. 

“Oh, don’t play now cielo, we’re definitely having more kids. Right Cruzito? You want a playmate?”

“Yes!” Cruz cheered. “Halmeoni (grandma) is waiting for us.” 

“Oh, right, let me get ready.” Alena handed Cruz to Angel. 

Before she could step away, Angel pulled her back and he kissed her, making Cruz giggle. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she bit her lip, running to her bathroom and locking the door behind her. 

Angel Reyes was going to be the death of her. 

=============

Angel parked his truck in front of Michelle’s home, making note of Bryan’s car. Alena hated the drive to her mother’s.  Angel gave her the fucking silent treatment after Victor came back to the apartment to drop off her phone. Her skirt didn’t have any pockets and they ended up walking around the beach after their dinner. He held her phone for her and she just forgot about it. She honestly lost herself in her conversation with Victor and that answer didn’t go well with Angel. 

“You’re really not going to talk to me?” She questioned as she unbuckled herself.

“Alena, let’s just get through dinner and we’ll talk later.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry, I didn’t do anything wrong. We had a friendly dinner, fell asleep while watching Umbrella Academy. You act like I committed some crime.”

“I told you not to go right? What would people think when they see a married woman out with a man alone?”

“This is the 21st century and it's normal.” She paused, a small smile appearing on her lips. “Are you jealous Angel Ignacio Reyes?” Angel was usually not unreasonable. He was a good guy with a big heart and tough guy exterior. But when it came to her, Alena, and his family, he was a sweetheart. This Angel was new, she’s never seen it before. Well, she has, whenever a guy was too close to her, but nowadays, that was rare.

These confusing feelings were getting a bit ridiculous.

“Yes, yes I am jealous.” Angel huffed and puffed. “You happy to hear that? I’m fucking jealous Alena so quit fucking around and stop seeing him.” 

“Why are you jealous? You said you don’t have feelings for me.”

Angel looked at Alena. He doesn’t, but she was the mother of his child. He just didn’t trust Victor, he didn’t feel comfortable. He fucking hated it that Alena’s attention was being taken by him. So many things were aggravating him, he didn’t even fucking know anymore. Did he have feelings for Alena? He was attracted to Alena, that much he knew, but something deeper than that. 

Fuck. 

No, he wasn’t going to let his jealousy and Victor’s obnoxious presence dictate his feelings.

He didn’t even fucking know anymore.

“Cielo, I haven’t been with another woman besides you for the last five years. I want you to sit on that.” Angel tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I think it’s cute you keep saying no to me, but you have needs too baby, and I’m sure your fingers could never satisfy you like how my fingers can.” 

Alena hated the effect Angel had on her. She wasn’t sure if it was that bad boy aura he had, the swag or whatever the fuck charm he had, but it was so hard with him at times. 

Alena pulled away, exiting the car. She opened the back door and unbuckled Cruz who was asleep. Thankfully their son was a heavy sleeper, he did not need to hear all of Angel’s words. 

She took him and almost gasped when she saw Angel right next to her. He closed the door and shot her a smirk as he took out a cigarette stick. She made her way up her mother’s driveway, the front door opening before she could even knock.

Her mother opened her mouth to greet her, but she saw the sleeping Cruz and quickly shut her mouth. 

“Umma(mother), how are you?” Alena greeted her mother, kissing her on the cheek. 

“I should beat you for avoiding me for four months, but I want to hear about this man you're dating so I will excuse you.” She teased, hugging her daughter. “I’ll take him.” Michelle took Cruz, placing him on the couch, a pillow next to him so he didn’t roll over and off the couch.

“You owe me.” She heard her older brother, Bryan beside her. 

She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “Compared to the amount of times I’ve covered for you?”

“I’m kidding.” He pulled her into a hug, kissing the side of her head. “Where’s your shadow?”

“Right here.” Angel announced his presence, before giving Bryan a hug. “How are you?”

“Waiting for you two to have another damn kid so my mother can get off my back.” Bryan replies making both Angel and Alena laugh.

“We gave her Cruz, your turn.” Alena walked over to Mina, her brother’s girlfriend of nine years, giving her a hug. “You still haven’t gotten rid of him?”

“I’ve been trying, he always comes back.” Mina laughed. “How have you avoided your umma for that long?”

“I live in San Diego, it makes it much easier.” Alena giggled.

“My favorite son-in-law!” Michelle has such a soft spot for Angel. She remembered him when he was that punk ass fourteen year old who followed around her daughter. And look where they all were now. Still just friends with rings on their fingers. She never tried to understand their situation, it worked, that’s what mattered. And Cruz was so cute. Though she wasn’t on board at first, Alena was giving up her twenties for Angel and a woman’s son who had harmed Alena before. But she couldn’t tell her daughter anything when it came to Angel.

He’s always been her weakness, which has been her downfall.

Now, she’s almost thirty and doesn’t have a potential husband after this whole thing falls apart.

“Hey mom,” Angel greeted Michelle, chuckling at her enthusiasm. He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. “You always keep getting younger whenever I see you.”

“It’s called living alone.”

They all laughed. Michelle ushered them to the dining table where she prepared braised ribs, Tteokbokki, fried pork belly, and assorted side dishes. Angel loved coming to Michelle’s home. She always made such amazing food.

Michelle sat at the head of the table with Angel on one side and Bryan on the other. Alena looked over at Cruz who was still asleep. This didn’t bode well for later since that meant he would be wide awake.

“So, you’re dating someone? They got passed my son-in-law?” She pinched Angel’s cheeks. “Or did you wake up and realized you’re in love with my daughter?” She turned to her son. “Is this not odd to you? They’re married but he sleeps around and she’s dating someone? You kids. Aish, giving me heart palpitations.” Pointing at Bryan. “Cruz needs a playmate, you’ve been with Mina for nine years, time to pop one out.”

“Umma, we literally just sat down, can we eat first then you can pester us about our lives?” Bryan whined. He loves his mother, he really did, but he didn’t need to be constantly reminded he needed to have kids. It’s not like they weren’t trying.

“Yah, are you talking back to your Umma?”

Bryan looked at his sister. “Can you just tell her who you’re dating?” He wanted the spotlight off of him.

Alena laughed. She opened her mouth, but Angel beat her to it.

“She’s dating me.”

Everyone at the table gave Angel an incredulous look, in disbelief by his statement. Bryan knew Angel had a soft spot for his sister and one could pretend to be married for so long and not feel something. He never tried to understand their relationship and he still wasn’t.

“You’re what?” Michelle looked at Angel and Alena, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“We didn’t want to say anything until it was serious, but we’re dating.” Alena wanted to slap Angel. How can he tell her mother that? Does he not know her mother? She stepped on his foot, he turned to her and smirked, not even flinching that she stepped on his foot. He gave her a kiss as some type of resounding proof.

“This is amazing! I always knew you two would end up together.” Mina broke the silence between all of them.

“Not say anything until it was serious? You two are married, how much more serious do you two have to get?” Michelle rolled her eyes. “No matter, this is good! I’m glad you finally got your head out of your ass Ignacio.” She picked up the braised ribs, putting some on Angel’s plate. “Now, we gotta strengthen you up, mom wants at least three more grandkids.”

“Umma!” Alena was honestly too flabbergasted to answer her mother. Angel was going to hear it from her. He shouldn’t give her mother false hope like that.

“So no more matchmaking?” Angel was a devious little shit, but he didn’t give a fuck.  

“That’s what pushed you? Should have done it long ago.” Michelle kept placing food on Angel’s plate, making Bryan pout.

“Umma what about me?”

“Ssh, he can get me grandkids, you? That’s a debate. Mina, leave him.”

“Umma!”

Dinner went on without a hitch. Cruz ended up waking up and sat in between Alena and Angel. He eventually moved to see on his grandmother’s lap, loving the spoiling he was getting from her. 

“I’m glad you finally took a chance Angel.” Michelle and Angel were smoking outside on her porch while Alena and Mina cleaned up the kitchen for Michelle.

“Yeah? Sorry for taking so long, you know us men, take a while to realize we have a good thing.” Angel let out a puff. He enjoyed his time with Michelle. Not once did she make him feel like he wasn’t one of them. He was always included. 

“You always knew of your feelings for Alena, but you just didn’t think you deserve her.” Michelle has watched this dance between them. Angel only had serious girlfriends when Alena had a serious boyfriend. But Angel didn’t pull away from Alena, he always made his presence known and strong. He made sure that Alena’s boyfriend knew he was number one and there was nothing he could do to change that. Michelle had to admit, Angel’s lack of movement made her angry, but he also knew how Angel was. At least she knew that her daughter would always be protected but what worried her was, who protected Alena from Angel.

She knew Angel would never physically harm Alena, but emotionally? It was a different thing. Angel didn’t mean it, it was his defense mechanism. Which was why this whole situation worked out well for them. He had something to fall on because they’re married and he knew Alena would remain faithful while he got his head out of his ass.

So she was glad he finally did.

Angel let Michelle’s words sink in. Always had feelings for Alena? Again, he always found her attractive and he was drawn to her, but it was mostly attraction. 

“Naw, I just realized it recently.” Angel reasoned, blowing out smoke from his lips.

“Angel, why’d you date Valeria?”

“She was hot.” He smirked, earning a smack up the head from Michelle. “Okay, fuck. I don’t know, she was there and Alena was occupied by Dante. I couldn’t be single while Alena had someone.” The sadness that overtook him every time he watched Alena with another man was unbearable.

“What kind of reasoning is that? You should want to be with someone because you like them.”

“I did like Valeria, sort of.” Angel didn’t remember much of his relationship with Valeria. He saw her a few times a week. He knew she was married prior to their relationship because she still had their wedding picture on her nightstand. From what he understood, Victor and Valeria were already in the process of divorce but she was making it difficult for him. She was a warm body and entertained him enough when he would become irate with Alena for putting Dante before him.

Angel closed his eyes then, the realization hitting him.

“I dated Valeria because Alena was with Dante.” Angel’s foot began to move up and down then, throwing his cigarette butt and slipping another stick in between his lips. “I was going to ask out Alena and she brought Dante to the clubhouse.”

He decided that night to bury his feelings for Alena. 

It would never be their time he reasoned.

They weren’t meant to be.

So he turned to Valeria. Alena’s friend who hung onto his every fucking word.

“Angel, you are worthy of Alena. You’re the only person that makes my daughter as happy as she is. I’m glad you’ve realized that you’re in love with her too. And I’m glad she realized it too. You two have always drifted to one another and depended on one another.” Michelle threw her cigarette butt. “You’ve always been Alena’s hero, protecting her from the monsters of the real world, just fitting for you two to end up together. You deserve love too Angel, even though you like to sabotage your own relationships, I don’t think you’d survive without my daughter. Good job getting your head out of your ass.” She patted his shoulder. “Remember, grandkid, as soon as possible.”

She left Angel to ponder in his own thoughts.

Fuck.

Angel couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t have told Michelle that.

What does Michelle know anyway? Why would she even say that to him? 

“Fuck. I gotta get laid or something.”

=============

Angel parked his motorcycle under the shaded area, taking off his helmet and hanging it on the bar. He walked over to EZ, Gilly and Coco who were sitting down at the picnic table. Michelle’s words weighed heavy on him. The feelings he had for Alena were always so complicated. Angel had a savior complex, he had to admit that and he always ran whenever Alena called for him. He was this girl who needed his protection, someone he took care of, and they became adults. Alena turned into this beautiful young woman who was too kind for her own good. Someone who didn’t ask questions. She was always there for him and he knew he could count on her. She looked at him like he held the fucking world for her and at first, he thought that’s why he was attracted to her. For once, someone didn’t even look twice at EZ and just stayed on him.

But as the years passed, he quickly realized that wasn’t it. 

Sure, he liked being number one to her, but he fell for Alena because of Alena. He wanted to be the one she ran to always when she had troubles. He wanted to be the one she told all her deepest and darkest secrets to. He wanted to hold her at night and make sure she was safe. He wanted to see her pregnant with his child. He wanted so many things with her. They may have done things unconventionally, but he wanted something with her. 

To be with her forever.

Fuck.

He couldn’t be selfish with Alena, not like this. She wouldn’t be safe with him. She would prosper with him.

But did he really care? He couldn’t push Alena away even if he wanted to do so. 

Cruz loves her so much.

And fuck.

He loves her too, so fucking much that it was fucking suffocating at times. It was easier to be cold towards her because then he didn’t have to acknowledge the ache in his heart whenever she was away from him. He didn’t have to acknowledge the loneliness that seeped in when she wasn’t in his arms. 

This was fucking ridiculous. 

EZ and Coco looked at one another, trying their best to hide the laughter that wanted to come out. They’ve been called Angel for the past five minutes and he was just standing on his own, smoking. 

Fuck it.

Angel deserved some annoyance in his life.

“Angel, you in deep thoughts hermano, guess Alena’s date went well.” Coco teased.

“Did he get it in?” EZ couldn’t help it. If Angel couldn’t realized his feelings, they could push it out of him.

The two men laughed as Angel rolled his eyes at them. 

"Haha, glad you're both having fun. But jokes on you cause I'm fucking happy for her." Angel grinned. "Fucking delighted."

"Oh, absolutely, we can tell." EZ couldn't resist teasing his brother. "So are you gonna be this tense during their wedding or are you gonna blow up before that happens?"

Coco snickered. "Blow up? That would mean he actually recognized he had feelings for Lenny. But he doesn't, right hermano?"

“Fuck you.” Angel lit up another cigarette, sitting down at the picnic table. “He’s not even her type.”

“What is Alena’s type? You?” Gilly joined in the ribbing on Angel. 

“I don’t fucking need this shit right now.” Angel stood up and was just gonna go for a ride out at the desert, just to clear his thoughts. He always buried his feelings for Alena, but as of late, with her reminding him it’s been five years and their agreement was technically to divorce, he couldn’t do it. How could he let Alena go now?

“Hey, settle down there hot head.” Coco blocked his way, gesturing for him to sit down. “So what happened?” Coco was over last night when Angel was having a mini meltdown when Alena wouldn’t answer her phone. He ended up staying over the night to make sure Angel didn’t ride over to her apartment. 

He was looking out for Alena. If Angel wasn’t going to get his head out of his ass then Alena should put herself out there. He was loyal to Angel, but after all the kindness Alena has shown him, the club, how could he not look out for her?

“Nothing, her mother and I talked earlier.” The rest of the night was fine. Angel dropped off Alena and Cruz at home and went to the clubhouse. He was gonna go to Vicky’s but decided against it.

“Did you bring leftovers?” EZ perked up. He loved Michelle’s cooking. 

“Yeah, it’s at home and no, you’re not going to the house. Alena and Cruz are most likely asleep.”

“Why aren’t you with your family?” Coco knew Angel spent the weekends with them since Alena was home on the weekends. He was surprised the Angel decided to come to the clubhouse.

“Can’t hang out with you guys?” Angel leaned back, resting his arms on the table.

“You can, but this time is sacred for Alena, we all fucking know that.” Gilly chuckled. “You two fighting?”

“No, not exactly.” Angel muttered. “I just realized something is all.” He was hesitant to tell his brothers, but he could trust them, he trusted them with his life. “I’m in love with Alena.”

“What?!” They all exaggeratedly replied. 

“No fucking way.” Coco shook his head, feigning his absolute shock. “Can you believe this Boy Scout?”

“Yeah, fucking shocking.” EZ chuckled.

“So what brought this epiphany? Victor?” Gilly wondered.

“No, Michelle.”

“That’s right! Pay up!” Coco clapped his hands at Gilly and EZ. 

“What the fuck?” Angel looked at the three. Gilly and EZ grumbled handing Coco twenty dollars each.

“I told Boy Scout and Gilly that Michelle was going to get to you.” Coco pocketed his money. “Alright, so what happened? Did she smack you with that stick she has?”

“No,” Angel shook his head. “What the fuck did you two bet?”

“I thought Victor would push you over the edge.” EZ answered.

Angel turned to Gilly.

“I just said you’d get your head out of your ass, which I should have known better, but I always thought Alena was a good influence on you.” Gilly shrugged.

“Fuck you guys.”

The three men chuckled.

“We’re not trying to be assholes, but we always knew you were into her. Just about fucking time for you to realize.” Coco shrugged. “Told you hermano, prime real estate. You can keep men at bay here, but in San Diego, who knows what she does there.”

“Alena literally goes to work and back home.”

“Doesn’t Victor live at her building?” EZ knew he was poking the bear, but he could take on Angel. 

Angel just tuned them out, just shaking his head. The fact that everyone seemed to know everything he was trying to hide, it was ridiculous. Though he was awful at hiding his emotions, but just finding out he was in love with you, letting feelings he buried so long ago resurface, it was painful.

Not in a bad way.

He loves Alena, he knew that much.

But the fact he let all of this time just pass, it was ridiculous.

=============

Alena yawned, the light hitting her eyes from the cracks in between the blinds. Looking behind her, Angel was nowhere to be found so she was almost certain that the club had a late night, which was fine. After these last few days and how hot and cold Angel had been, she didn’t mind not having him around. 

A day with just her and Cruz was what she needed.

She checked her phone and she had a text message from Angel.

Angel

Hey, I had to do a run. I’ll be back tonight. 

She quickly replied.

Be safe. 

Short and simple.

She opened another message, this time from Victor.

Hey sweetheart, up for another marathon?

I’m in Santo Padre, sorry. :( 

I’m ten minutes away from your house.

Alena sat up then, looking at the clock. It was noon, which wasn’t awful since it was a Sunday. But at the same time, she debated if she should text Angel and let him know about Victor’s visit.

She paused.

“I own this house, I don’t have to ask permission. I don’t know who he brings home here while I’m not here.” Alena stood up and checked on Cruz who was wide awake, playing with his toys in his room.

Cruz and Alena always thought of how blessed they were since Cruz didn’t do anything mischievous when they weren’t around. He could stay in his room, play with his toys until he needed his parents. 

“Baby, how long have you been awake?” Alena questioned.

“Um, eleven?” Alena tried her best to teach Cruz things. She taught him his ABC’s, how to count and how to read. Cruz was an easy learner so it was a fun thing to do between them. 

“Why didn’t you wake up mommy?” Alena sat beside him.

“You were snoring.” Cruz giggled. “Daddy always says to let you sleep in cause you don’t sleep much.”

“Did you see Daddy?”

“Yes, he told me he has work.” Cruz walked over to Alena, sitting on her lap. “I’m hungry.”

“Uncle Victor is coming, when he gets here we can go and get something to eat?” Alena offered.

“Uncle Victor is coming?” Cruz stood up excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to show Uncle Victor my toys here.”

Alena smiled watching Cruz as he excitedly gathered his toys. She heard the doorbell ring and left Cruz to pick his toys. She opened the door and found Victor holding two bags of what she presumed was take-out. 

“Hey,” he greeted her as he stepped inside her home.

“I can’t believe you drove all the way here.” Alena cleaned out the dining table which had some folders from the research she was doing for Mr. Johnson. Victor chuckled watching her. He placed the takeout on the table. 

“Uncle Victor!” Cruz ran into the dining room, greeting Victor enthusiastically. “You came to our house this time, is mommy going somewhere?”

“No little man, we’re all hanging out today, how does that sound?” Victor picked him up.

“Cool, I can't wait to show you my toys.”

“Victor you didn’t have to bring all of this.” Alena unpacked the bags and her stomach grumbled, she didn’t even realize how hungry she was.

They sat around the table, enjoying the lunch Victor brought. Once they were done, Alena, Cruz and Victor sat on the couch and watched Umbrella Academy. In hindsight, it may not have been a good show for a five year old, but Cruz was on his iPad the whole time. 

As they were starting the last episode, there was a knock on the door. Victor offered to answer it and Alena heard Coco’s voice.

“Who the fuck are you?” Coco narrowed his eyes at the man who opened the door. 

Alena looked over at Cruz who was sleeping. She stood up and walked over to the door. 

“Hey Coco, this is my friend Victor.” Alena introduced them.

“My bad bro, just weird to have another man open my hermano’s door.” Coco made it a point to remind Victor who the man of the house was. 

“None taken,” Victor waved him off. “I should get going Alena, I have dinner plans with my family.”

“Yeah, not a problem, thank you for coming.” She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Victor chuckled and waved goodbye to Coco before walking out of the house. They both watched as Victor got in his car and pulled out of the driveway. Once he was out of sight, Coco turned to Alena and shook his head. 

“No wonder Angel is rattled.” He laughed. “I just need to grab something at the shed in the back, is that cool?”

“Sure, I thought you guys had a run?” Alena questioned as she closed the door. 

“We did, Angel is still out with EZ. Asked me to grab something at the shed.” Coco had to get Angel’s stack of guns in case he and EZ needed it. “Does Angel know you had a visitor?”

“This is my house too Coco, I don’t have to ask permission.” 

Coco nodded his head. “Damn right sister. Have you heard anything about my daughter?”

“Letty? No, I asked Victor for help, he knows a few trucking companies so he’s going to check with them. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.” 

Coco gave her an appreciative smile before going to the back to grab Angel’s duffle bag. He gave Alena a hug before leaving. Alena locked the door behind Coco and started the last episode of Umbrella Academy. She had this feeling of dread at the bottom of her stomach, she couldn’t shake it. She hoped Angel was okay, with whatever he was doing.

=============

Angel walked into the house fuming. 

He didn’t mean to be, but with everything that happened earlier, Coco informing him that Victor was at his home was just the fucking icing on the cake. How could Alena let this man into the home they share? She wanted to let him come to her apartment, that’s her, but not at their home, not their family home. 

Angel found Cruz giggling in Alena’s arms as she tickled him. That scene made his anger slightly fade, but it was still there, brimming.

“Cruz, go to your room, daddy has to talk to mommy.” Angel didn’t leave any arguments to his request and Cruz looked up at Alena. 

“It’s okay baby, go get ready for bed, mommy will come tuck you in.”

“Okay, hi daddy, I missed you today.” Cruz stopped in front of Angel, hugging his leg.

“I miss you too Cruzito.” He ruffled his hair, feeling a bit of weight off his shoulder. He actually thought he may not see his son anymore, that he wouldn’t see Alena and it changed things for him. He didn’t mind helping the rebels, but there had to be an end soon, he didn’t know how much more he could risk. 

“You okay? Coco came earlier and he left in a hurry.” Alena stood up, making her way over to Angel. 

He held his hand up, shaking his head. She froze, not walking any further.

“You really had that motherfucker in our house?” Angel’s anger came back and he really didn’t mean for it to come, but he couldn’t help it.

Alena sighed. “Angel, it’s my house too.” She was not in a mood for his poor attitude. 

“I don’t give a fuck. Alena, this motherfucker doesn’t care if we’re married, he’s disrespecting me and you invite him to our home?” It frustrated him that Alena couldn’t see why he was angry. She wouldn’t want him bringing a woman over here. “You wouldn’t want me to bring some woman here, I’m sure that would piss you off.”

“Angel, I don’t care if you sleep with someone, you’re more than welcome to do so.” Alena turned away from him, walking down the hall to her room so she could change and sleep with Cruz. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Angel. 

She went inside the closet and changed, finding Angel standing at his side of the bed waiting for her. 

“I’m not done talking to you.”

“Well, I’m done talking to you.”

“How can you not see why I’m upset here? You’re my fucking wife, act like it!” Angel didn’t mean that, but she had him so riled up. 

“What the fuck have I been doing for the past 5 years? Fuck you Angel. I don’t get why you’re so upset when you sleep that everything that walks.” Alena felt herself getting worked up, her hands closed into a tight fist at her sides. 

“Oh, I’m good Querida because I have you. I haven’t touched any other pussy besides yours.” Angel smugly informed her. 

“What?” Alena took a step back by that revelation.

“I don’t sleep with anyone. I told you last night, before going inside your mother’s house, you’re the only woman I’ve touched in the last five years.”

“I think you should expand your horizons then.”

“Why would I? I have you.”

“You cheated on Valeria all the time!”

“Yes, well, you’re my fucking wife. And I actually care about you. Fuck Valeria, we both use one another as a means.”

“Are you two fighting?” Cruz was by the door, clutching his bunny, looking at Alena and Angel.

“No, we’re not baby. Mommy and daddy are just talking.”

“Can I sleep on your bed?” Cruz asked.

“No Cruz, be a big boy and sleep on your own bed.” Angel didn’t want Cruz in the bed tonight. He was done and he wanted to hash it out with Alena. With Cruz being there, they wouldn’t be able to talk. 

“But I wanna sleep with you and mommy.” He pouted. “And I wanted to show you my drawing, that I made for you with the crayons mommy got.”

“Cruz, stop it. It’s bedtime!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but he had a hard day and too much was going on.

Alena frowned, seeing how Cruz’s face scrunched up. She picked him up and he immediately hung onto her.

“Yeah, good job, teach him it’s okay to throw a fit when he doesn’t get what he wants.” Angel rolled his eyes, taking off his kutte and placing it on the armchair he and Alena had in their room. 

“Stop it, you’re being a real jerk right now. Cruz has been waiting for you all night to show you his drawing.” Alena snapped. She had enough of this poor attitude from Angel. If he wanted to be a dick towards her, that’s fine, but he was not going to take it out on their son. “We’ll be at pops.” 

Alena grabbed her purse and walked out the door, slamming it behind her. 

“Fuck.” Angel yelled out before following her.

Alena just finished buckling Cruz and getting in the driver’s side when Angel prevented her from closing the door.

“Alena, please, I’m sorry. Don’t leave.” Angel pleaded, holding the door. 

“Let go of the door Angel.” She tried to pull the door, but he wasn’t budging. 

“Come on, I just,” Angel sighed. “There’s just so much going on with the rebels, the club, I may have bit off more than I can chew.”

“I don’t care. When you walk through that door, it’s about us, our family. You can’t let out your frustrations out on us. We’re here for you, but you will not yell at Cruz for being excited to show you something he did specifically for you. And if he wants to sleep on our fucking bed then he is allowed to do so.” Alena was starting to breathe hard, obviously becoming worked up. Angel frowned, watching as she gripped the steering wheel to try and help her breathing.

“Baby, hey, breathe.” He knew Alena has been feeling under the weather lately. The change of season was always hard on her and her asthma would act up. Top that off with emotional stress and congestion, well, that’s a trigger. 

Alena clutched her chest, rubbing it hoping it would help. She grabbed her purse as her chest was tightening, she was slightly shaking, unable to open it. Angel took her purse from her and took out her inhaler, handing it to her. 

“Mommy!” Cruz began to cry, seeing the obvious distress on Alena’s body. 

“It’s okay Cruz, daddy has mommy.” Angel turned her towards him, cupping her face with one hand and placing a hand on her inhaler. “One more baby, just calm down.”

Alena took one more puff, the tightness slowly going away. She had tears streaming down her eyes, closing her eyes to try and calm her breathing. Cruz unbuckled himself, crawling through the middle console. He maneuvered so he can sit on Alena’s lap, hugging his mother.

“Mommy,” Cruz cried out. 

“Sssh,” Alena managed to say, her chest expanding better. She laid her cheek on top of Cruz’s head. She felt like her heart was hammering, struggling to open and close to let the blood flow. She started crying too and Angel felt his heartbreak.

Seeing the two of them cry, especially when it could have been prevented, was far too much for him.

“Baby,” Angel opened his mouth but Cruz turned towards him shaking his head.

“Bad daddy!” He narrowed his eyes at his father. “You made mommy cry and she got her attacks.” Cruz called his and Alena’s asthmatic episodes as attacks. He turned back to Alena, rubbing her chest to try and help his mommy.

Angel was dumbfounded as Cruz had never scolded him before, but he always knew that Cruz was team Alena. She was his mother and damn anyone who thought otherwise.

“Mi cielo, lo siento.” Angel’s voice was low, but Alena still looked up at him. She held her hand out, making Angel sigh in relief. She intertwined their fingers, pulling him closer. Alena wasn’t hyperventilating any longer, her heart no longer felt like it was hammering.

“Baby, daddy didn’t mean it okay? Mommy isn’t upset with daddy, can you forgive daddy and give him a hug?” Alena told Cruz once she was able to breathe better.

Cruz turned to face Angel. “You can’t hurt mommy, we’re supposed to protect her and make her happy, right daddy?”

Angel’s tears streamed down then, nodding his head. He enveloped Cruz in his arm, one hand still holding Alena’s. He pulled her towards him, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“Cruzito, daddy is sorry. You’re right, we’re supposed to keep mommy happy.” Angel kissed his forehead. “Come on, let’s go back inside.”

The trio went back inside, Alena immediately going to her and Angel’s room with Angel and Cruz following behind her. She was already in her pajamas and slid in at her side of the bed. Her chest still felt slightly heavy, and all she wanted to do was lay in bed and relax.

“Don’t, you’re gonna trigger it again.” Angel placed Cruz on the bed before he helped Alena sit up. He got her nebulizer, handing her the mask. Her asthma has been awful recently due to the winds, but he was certain the fight they had didn’t help either. 

Angel turned it on, Alena putting the mask on her face so that she could start the treatment. Cruz sat beside her, watching her. Angel quickly changed out of his clothes and slid at his side of the bed. Cruz turned to look at him, still upset at his father. He snuggled closer to Alena, wrapping his small arm around her middle.

He didn’t want to try and force his son to talk to him. Cruz was just like him and was very overprotective about mommy. Angel was the same way with his mother. But he felt fucking terrible, the last thing he wanted to do was upset his girl and Cruz. Him and Alena have been at this in between ever since he realized his feelings for her. He hasn’t exactly told her, but he figured Alena would figure it out. She was a smart girl and Angel has only been attached to her.

When Cruz was only a year old, he did try to sleep with other women since in all technicality, he was fucking single. But the one time he did sleep with a girl from Vicky’s he said Alena’s name. After that, he somehow convinced Alena to sleep with him every now and then, which kept his desires at bay. He was a bastard, but he couldn’t help it. The first time he ever slept with Alena, she was twenty years old and shit just happened. He felt like an asshole for taking her virginity, but fuck did he feel like a fucking champion too. 

You know when people say that whoever your first time was you would always be obsessed with them due to that shared intimacy?

Well it was the fucking opposite.

Angel became fucking obsessed with Alena. Seeing her in the midst of ecstasy. The way she would bite her lips to try to muffle her cries. The way she would reach out to him, just wanting to touch him. The way she would gasp for air, the little noises she would make when he was hitting her deep, fuck he was addicted.

It wasn’t even just sex.

He found himself looking for Alena always. She calmed him down like no one else. If she was in the vicinity, he felt a certain sense of calm just envelop him. 

He was going to do better for his family. Alena was right, whatever happened in his day shouldn’t be taken out on them. 

They were his lifeline. 

Looking over at Alena, he saw how her eyes were closing, Cruz still watching her.

“Cruzito, daddy is sorry for shouting at you.” Angel was never good with apologies, but for his son and Alena, that was nothing.

“It’s okay daddy.” Cruz turned to Angel. “You’re just tired.”

“But that doesn’t make it okay to yell at you.” Angel frowned. The last thing he wanted was for his son to think it was okay to be yelled at. “Daddy loves you Cruz and don’t ever forget that.”

Cruz nodded his head. “I love you too daddy.” He crawled over to Angel, giving him a hug. Angel felt so relieved to gain his son’s forgiveness. Cruz pulled away and went back to Alena, checking on her. She turned to him and smiled. “Mommy, are you feeling better?”

Alena nodded her head and looked over at Angel. He was watching her, waiting for her treatment to finish. She reached out her hand to him which he gladly took, kissing the back of her hand. Angel couldn’t even describe their family dynamics, but he would never trade it for the world.

Once the treatment was done, Angel put away her nebulizer. He came back to the room and Cruz was snuggled to Alena’s side. He finally fell asleep. Angel went back to his side after he turned the lights off, the television was on to provide some illumination since Alena needed background noise to sleep. His eyes was still on her, her back was still against the headboard, a few pillows behind her.

“Stop watching me, I’m fine.” She told him, her eyes closed. She felt Angel’s eyes on her and as much as it was endearing it also made her nervous. Angel always had such an intense stare and the butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t let up due to his stare.

“Nope, you know I can never take my eyes off you.”

Alena laughed, opening her eyes and looking right at Angel. “You shouldn’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Easier said than done querida, I always worry about you.” Angel was sitting just like Alena. He didn’t plan on sleeping. He wanted to make sure she was good the whole night. 

“Is everything okay? With the rebels and all that?” Alena’s voice was an octave lower as if someone was in their home listening in.

Angel held no secrets from Alena. He couldn’t. Not her. He could never keep one from her.

“Just starting to hit close to home. They kidnapped Emily’s kid.” Angel felt awful cause he couldn’t imagine what he would do if someone kidnapped Cruz.

“Angel,” Alena frowned.

“I didn’t know, okay? It’s not like I wanted this to happen.” Angel watched those two people burn a few days ago and then with the heroin Adelita took from Galindo burning in his mind, there was so much going on. He wanted to get the MC away from Galindo, to not do their bitch work, and to provide longevity to the MC. But sometimes he thought he was way over his head.

“I’m scared.”

“What?” Angel looked over at Alena confused by he words. 

“What if something happens to you? What about Cruz?” She wanted to add herself, but she didn’t matter, at least not in that way.

“He has you.” 

“Don’t say that.” Alena felt the tears well up at her eyes. “Cruz needs you Angel. I know the mission and what you want for the club, but your son needs you too. Just be careful.”

“You don’t need me?” He was a selfish bastard and he wanted to hear Alena say that she needed him, that she needed him alive for her too.

“I don’t matter, Cruz is who matters.” Alena rubbed circles on her chest, helping ease out the tension as she took deep breaths.

“You matter to me. I stay alive for both of you.” Angel hated it when Alena put herself down. She meant the world to him. Without her he would be nothing. Without her he wouldn’t have Cruz. And without her he wouldn’t know what love was, true unconditional love. A love so consuming that it overtook your mind. A love so powerful that it could be in the shadows and still make one act on impulse. He figured he’s always loved Alena but the realization as it hit him.

As he sat there watching Alena hold Cruz, her eyes closed as she hummed a lullaby that his mother used to hum to him and Ezekiel, he was far gone. The way Cruz always hung onto her whenever he was upset because mommy always gave the best hugs. The way she accepted every aspect of his life. The way she took care of not only him but his family including the MC and Vicky’s girls, hell even Chucky. 

He was so in love with her, it wasn’t even funny. 

At this moment he didn’t give a fuck about Victor. About the rebels. About the cartel. About the club.

All he cared about was his family, his little slice of heaven. He only ever wanted a family with Alena, no one else. Cruz wasn’t a mistake, he would never think of his son as such. He was just glad that he was raising Cruz with Alena.

Being with Alena made the pain of being the second thought after EZ go away. Being with Alena showed him that being selfless was not weak, but could be the strongest trait anyone could have.

He’ll be selfless when it came to Cruz and Alena, they came first. But he would always be selfish with Alena. He’s always had her and he intended on keeping it that way. 

He was going to fight for her. 

He’s wasted enough time. 

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 4

Hello everyone,

I submitted this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy.

This chapter is less action heavy, but just as important. Thanks for hanging in there and reading!

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 3812

Part Four: The Aftermath

           The weathered professor seemed very confused but stood her ground and insisted, “Miss King, take the summer off.”

           “I just need a week, that’s all—and then I’ll get the methodology section to you—Dr. Watts I just need another week, please!” Antha pushed back. Dr. Watts set her glasses on her desk and then waved her over to a deep-tufted-leather sofa.

           “Antha,” her voice lowered, “I’ve known you for what—five years? You don’t become a valedictorian because you don’t like to write. You have been moody these past few weeks, you barely passed the final exam, and you’ve pushed back the thesis methodology three times. Last class, you were so distracted I would have rather you skipped. I know you, talk to me, what’s going on?”

           “My sister and I had a Friday night out with some friends and something happened.” Antha murmured, staring down at her feet.

           “Friday nights aren’t what they used be; did you hear about the fight that broke out at that dive bar off of—oh, what’s it called? You know the place—well, it was all over the news,” she paused gravely, “you weren’t there were you?”

           The twin nodded slowly. She felt overwhelmed in front of her advisor. She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut before replying. “Tessa’s date got into a fight with an old flame, it was a whole thing. But after…” She couldn’t continue. The advisor took her hand gently.

           “Did someone hurt you?”

           Antha’s eyes welled and all she could do was stare. As if she said the words out loud, it would become more true than it already was. The doctor’s forehead wrinkled as her brows gathered together. Having lived through the revolutions of the sixties and the proceeding struggle for equality, Dr. Watts knew the dangers women faced. She didn’t need an answer; she just wanted to offer shelter to a young woman. She knew just from looking at her student that whatever happened, it was beyond words.

           “You’re taking the summer and fall semester off—or at the very least take the summer off and go to a student counselor; its free, it comes with your tuition, so please use it. If you need anything you know you and your sister can come to me.” She wrote down her personal number and one for the counselors’ office. Antha held the little shred of stationary. She promised she would do just that.

        Shortly after, she left her advisor’s office and floated through the campus green and then waited by the bus stop. Her feet told her she was going home, yet her attention was somewhere far away. What can I say to a counselor? Who would understand what we saw at Hollow House? Without realizing, she had retrieved something from her pocket; she stared dumfounded at the pewter-colored iris that gleamed back.

        Antha couldn’t get rid of it. But in a moment of frustration, she chucked the marble-like eye into a nearby drain. She returned to her spot and tried to focus on scheduling a counselor. Moving forward, that’s what I need, she figured.

        A familiar wheezing crawled up the street. The sluggishness of a muffler that had seen better days filled her ears as she dazed at the phone number-laden scrap paper.  “—Antha!” Someone yelled. To her surprise she peered up to see Doug hanging out of his rusty Buick, looking just as timid as ever. He seemed anxious, for what reason she didn’t know. “I’ve been calling your name. You’ve gone deaf ol’ girl—you want a ride?” He asked with forced humor in his voice. She watched him blankly as his expression fell. “You alright?”

        Antha thought about it and suddenly felt stupid. All of her gusto about moving forward had evaporated; she lamely shook her head like a weary child. She felt like a little girl in a world that was too big for her. It all just seemed too much.

        The July swelter didn’t let up even with the windows down. The two didn’t speak as they made their way to their favorite pizza joint. Thrilled to be out of the unairconditioned Buick’s steel embrace, they collapsed into the far back booth of the pizzeria. All the servers knew it was Doug and Antha’s spot; they habitually kept it clean and empty, knowing they would eventually roll in. They made it to the “golden hour”. The sacred three hours between the lunch and dinner rush. It was their favorite time.

        “Whatchas want?” The straggly blue-haired waitress chewed her bubblegum like a goat.

        “The usual—uh hold on—when did you eat last?” Doug asked. Antha shrugged and realized she didn’t know. She couldn’t even think that far back. “Can we get a double order of the usual? But make two of them to-go?” The waitress didn’t even answer as she went to get drinks. “You want to talk about it?”

           “Nope. I said everything already.” Antha wasn’t mad at him, she was just tired. She was more annoyed that he would ask about the matter and then dispute the realism of what she explained. Doug grumbled when the waitress slopped the pitcher and straws down, vanilla coke-a-cola splashing everywhere.

           “—Hey, don’t we get like a punch-card or something? You know, for every hundred pizzas we buy, we get the next one free?” He politely suggested, his way of being confrontational. He was growing exasperated with the women in his life; he didn’t mind taking it from his close friends, Zoey and the twins, but he was having none of this waitress. She paused, chewed her gum, and left again.

           “Whoa, cool off killer,” Antha snarked, her spirits lifting with each sip of her fountain soda. She looked him over and thought on their friendship for a moment as he griped about that one particular server.

        Doug was a shy, lanky, ginger-bearded young man. He was passionate about things and supportive of the people he loved, but didn’t reserve much attention for the people outside of that parameter. He lived in vintage band t-shirts, had friendly light eyes, and a funny smile. No one could resist his unkempt wolfish hair or his corny sense of humor; he had a way of growing on a person. But he always showed up, his guitar in tow. That’s why Antha didn’t fight him when he asked about that night; she knew he actually cared and was trying his best to understand. He couldn’t help her though. No one could help.

        “How about we hang out this weekend, do a barbeque? Nobody grills a burger like you—and Tessa can make her sangria, huh, what do you think?” He tried to turn the conversation to open her up.

        “Uhh… I don’t know. I can’t plan that far ahead, I’m real busy.” She declined. The sausage pizzas arrived faster than expected and Doug dropped slices on their plates.

        “Busy yeah? Mmm-hmmm,” he bit into his slice, cheese tangling in his five o’clock shadow, “busy not writing your thesis, not eating, and not sleeping? Ant, the last time I saw you eat was a few days ago when I brought pizza over. You gonna talk to me?”

        Antha sighed loudly and glared at him. She was worn-through with the people in her life too. I’m too tired for this shit, she thought. She pushed her plate forward and abandoned her half-eaten slice. He saw her mild protest and his cheeks tinged pink. They silently stared each other down, him chewing as loud as he could manage while she obnoxiously slurped her soda in reply.

        Before they could hash out their issues a patron burst through the front entrance. “Hey—hic—you seen Ant? Where she at? The back?” Tessa was hiccupping and talking all sorts of loud, like she was in a club on a Saturday night. “Oh hey girls!” She pointed at the staff and sashayed herself to the booth; her bedazzled sandals slapping the linoleum like a jackhammer in the quiet place. The front door jingled again and in rushed Zoey.

        “I’m sorry,” she apologized to the front of the house and then chased after Tessa. “I picked her up because she was texting me weird messages—I thought I could calm her down with something to eat.” She explained to the table as she took a seat next to Doug.

        “I already ate today.” Tessa insisted, sliding in next to her sister and almost toppling over a pizza.

        “Oh yeah, what did you have for lunch?” Doug asked, his patience wearing thin.

        “GIN and uh—” she had to think about it but excitedly rebounded, “and uh water ice. Breakfast of champions!” Tessa thought she was quite funny, regardless how everyone else disagreed.

        “How about we have a little slice of pi—” Doug pandered but she wasn’t going to hear any of it.

        “Now who would put sausage on a pizza? Oh, no. I have enough meat in my life—you know what I’m sayin’ Zo—you feel me?” She howled.

        “That’s cute.” Doug’s patience officially went on vacation as of that second. He tore the sausage off some of the pie and then thrust the mangled slice in front of the drunk twin. “There ya’ go, just cheese—And you eat your damn slice too! This has gone on long enough—we’re going to have a barbeque and chill like we always do! It’s Fourth of July this weekend, did you know that?” He directed at the other twin.

        “This white boy’s hollering at you, oh lord…” Tessa cackled; her cheese dripped down the side of the table as she reached for some ice chips from an empty cup. Zoey was mortified and motioned to Antha for help, her friend was out of control.

        “Yeah—well this boy’s about tired of this foolishness! I don’t know all of what’s happened that night, but neither one of you will talk to me about it! Ant you’ve been practically dead, a walking zombie for three weeks—and Tessa, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon, what the hell has gotten into you?”

        “Gin.” She giggled.

        “Hey Katy? Can we get all this to go, with some two liters?” He yelled across the full length of the restaurant.

        Zoey handled the food transport as Doug buckled the twins into his car. He mumbled to himself, “…goddamn vampires my ass…” as he cleared his fogging glasses. Tessa began to mildly complain about the heat when the car stopped at a red light. They all noticed a young man struggling to get into a car at the gas station across the way.

        “Is that José?” She whispered. They witnessed his mother trying to steady him, juggling his crutches and searching for a spot on him that wasn’t bandaged. Adorned in a neck brace, shoulder sling, full posterior elbow splint, and full left leg cast. Poor José appeared like he faced-off with a combine. Doug glared at the girls in his rear-view mirror. The light turned green and not another word was said.

        He parked the Buick under the tree closest to the house and got the girls inside. Zoey did the same and brought the provisions to the shaded porch. It was too hot to do anything other than sit around by the fan or stay in the AC. Tessa went to her room when they got in; she felt awful about what she had seen at the gas station.

        They worked together to set up the tall pedestal fan on the porch, because the porch fan just couldn’t combat Mother Nature alone. They were in the midst of dawdling about when Antha accidentally fell asleep on the porch swing while Doug played the guitar. Zoey elicited his help inside to leave Antha to nap. The two were shocked with the state of things.

        Momma’s house was a frightful mess. They never saw it in its condition before: Dishes with dust, articles of clothing haphazardly dropped, laundry either half started or half done, it was difficult to tell. “Momma would roll over, I swear…” Zoey whispered. They agreed to tidy up while the twins rested, lest Momma rise up and haunt them. That woman was meticulous and was not above coming back from the grave to tell everyone what’s-what.

        As if life had been frozen in time from the month prior. The twin’s incident hit like a meteor and their friends now saw the wreckage. While they hadn’t admitted it out loud, they had stopped living too; obsessed with what happened that night at Hollow House. Grasping for a truth that they couldn’t reach.

        The overloaded dishwasher whined as it cycled and it reminded Doug of seeing José, busted up and struggling. That’s what really happens after a bar-brawl. There’s always a winner and always a loser. He half-heartedly swept the floor and thought to himself: these are the parts they edit from movies. The aftermath. The guns, the glory, the blood all made the cut; but the estranged motions we go through to try and find the thread leading back to our lives doesn’t. These are the quiet moments without answers, like loose ends dangling.

        Zoey crept into the kitchen and signaled for him to follow her to the porch. She had just hung the last load of laundry on the line for the afternoon. They were both beat and sweat through from cleaning. They shimmied the big metal ice bucket to the front, fearing they’d disturb Antha. She was so far gone that an earthquake couldn’t wake her. They popped two well-earned beers and exchanged the bits and pieces of what they learned from the twins over the past few weeks.

        “…that’s crazy, right? Like there’s no way what Tessa told me could be real, right? Did someone roofie their drinks?” Zoey asked him as she tied his wavy hair into a top-knot.

        “I’m just worried that something happened they won’t say, like they’re traumatized—I mean, Zo, I was driving to the bar and I seen them covered in blood on the side of the road. Tessa was screaming in the ER that a vampire attacked her sister—and then Antha all of a sudden, calms her down and explains to the doctors that they were lost in the woods, came upon the bed and breakfast for help, and that a strange man assaulted them there. Said they used a fireplace poker in defense, bloodied him up real good, and they escaped to the main road.” Doug took a swig of beer to recuperate.

        He was getting worked up just relaying the story, “But the cops, they investigated that place and found six bodies—slaughtered—in the basement, two of them the owners. The bodies had been sitting there for days before the twins got to ‘em. I’m scared that maniac’s out there. I mean—I’m scared in my own damn apartment when I think about it. What if they were found in that basement? What if we couldn’t find them?” He shook his head.

        “What can we do for them? Are there groups for people like this, who think they’ve seen something supernatural?” Zoey mused aloud as she pinned her jet-black pixie cut hair out of her face. The two pulled fresh beers out of the ice bucket and vowed to do some research after the weekend. They agreed their first goal was to get the twins fed and cared for.

        They watched the sun set into folds of purple, pink, and orange over the high grass. The heat of the day receded with the light, but the humidity persisted only to remind them that it was an intermission; the threat remained that the summer’s full force would return at tomorrow’s dawn.

        The grasshoppers were summoned as Doug strummed his guitar, not truly playing anything particular. Zoey brought out cards to shuffle, waiting on Tessa to play. The evening began to set in peacefully until a rumble cut through the twilight.

        A huge pickup truck barreled down the long drive and parked in front of the house. Out jumped the infamous Flake. His blond hair contrasted against the lavender sky, budding starlight glinting off his aviator sunglasses, and a tooth pick in the corner of his mouth completed his redneck-chic visage. He swaggered up to the porch and was met with a startled Antha; she had jumped up like a viper at the sound of his wheels. He donned a large patch like bandage over half an eye and his hands were wrapped too.

        “Tessa around?” Franco didn’t even offer small talk which had Antha go straight from just waking up to furious.

        “Not for you.”

“Well, I wanted to check in on her—haven’t been able to call on account of that scuffle at the bar. Them boys got my tires and my phone.”

        “Looks like they got your eye too.” She scoffed.

        “Yep,” he laughed and pulled his sunglasses down to reveal those piercing big blues, “you should see the other guy.”

        “We did.” Her disdain seemed to suck the air out of the whole yard. Franco leaned on the porch banister and pulled a smoke from behind his ear. Her eyes burned so hot on him she could have lit his cigarette.

        “I can see you’re not much for visitors, so I’ll just leave this. If you could give it to Tessa, I’d be mighty grateful.” He handed her a number, but she walked away not even considering it. Zoey jumped up and took the note. “Night ya’ll.” Franco flicked his butt into the yard and made his way back to his truck.

        Long after he left and the noise of his truck faded Antha sat, her arms crossed, on the porch swing. Her friends idled by, every so often glancing in her direction waiting for her to speak her mind. The disgruntled twin couldn’t connect the pieces of her dislike for Franco. It wasn’t as simple as his jeans were too torn, his truck too loud, or his gaze too heavy; it was the fact that she knew nothing about him. No one did. Where did he come from—and where was he going? It didn’t add up to Antha that he was the first hillbilly she ever met without a tan. What working man doesn’t have a farmer’s tan? Finally, after a good twenty-five minutes of contemplation Antha announced, “I need a drink.” With a flutter of Zoey’s sundress, she presented a liter of honey whiskey, lemon wedges, and shot glasses.

        A few shots and some pizza in her stomach, Antha started to feel somewhat whole. The four-hour nap revived her a bit, or least lessened the haze she had been wading through. She could finally take in her surroundings: she was lucky to have her friends. When the mosquitos really started to bite they brought their party inside and relished the cool—and now clean—house. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two, I’m sorry I can’t,” she paused, “I just can’t right now.” Before Antha could work out her sentiment the queen bee descended from her room.

        “That’s it! I have decided!” Tessa announced, thumping down the stairs like a sentinel charge. “I’m going to visit José tomorrow—even though it’s not my fault he got his ass beat, I still think it’s only fair to show love.” She waited, her hands on her hips, for their unyielding approval or preferably a round of applause.

        “Look at you growing a conscious,” was the general consensus of the other three. Tessa saucily tossed her braids as she dusted her shoulders. They all scooted into the kitchen table and fed her dinner. Just like a heart, she had a way of pulsing life into a room. Before they knew it, they were swapping stories like always.

        Tessa was laughing and teasing Doug when she took a shot. She threw her empty glass down on the table as was customary, but when the glass met the table it then clinked as if something had been dropped into it. They all sat forward to see a silvery-gray eye in the bottom.

        “Did you just spit that in there?” Doug’s eyes were wide.

        The twins beheld each other knowingly.

        In the beginning, they initially freaked out over the eyes returning. Now it became a sickening fascination of what they could do to them. The eyes always returned. They burned them, they drowned them, and they threw them away; every time the eyes returned to the twins.

        “I tried to tell you, but you’re not listening,” Antha began, “these eyes are following us. Ever since we killed that thing at Hollow House, we’ve had them.” Doug and Zoey’s faces were pained in disbelief.

        “Here.” Tessa got up roughly and held the eye over the sink. She turned on the garbage disposal and dropped it in; it made a grotesque metal sound and then after a few rotations, crunched like glass. Antha showed the eye that was always in her back pocket and explained she threw it away in a drain across town earlier that day. She threw hers in too, directly into the disposal.

        “Well, how long does it take for them to come back?” Zoey asked.

        “They’re not coming back—this is a trick!” Doug looked like an angry leprechaun with his reddened face and stubble. The twins’ faces didn’t even shift with the accusation.

        “Sometimes its seconds, sometimes hours, or a day. It doesn’t matter, they’ll be back.” Antha confirmed and the twins took their seats at the table. The room became solemn as Tessa popped another round of beers and poured a flight of shots for them all, knowing the liquid courage was needed. Doug jumped up from his seat and began checking under cushions, searching cupboards, and drawers. The girls sat back and waited as he processed.

        He huffed, “…you got back-ups, or hiding ‘em somewhere—I don’t know why you’re playing with me right now…it’s not funny…” But then a loud plop sounded on the kitchen table, like a golf ball dropped from the ceiling. He turned to watch a second oversized marble drop seemingly out of thin air. He returned to the table and gawked at the two eyes sitting in front of the twins. “You got to tell us what happened at Hollow House.” Doug’s voice was hushed as he shakily accepted the whiskey shot from Tessa. In unison they saluted and threw back the shots with beer chasers.

        While the four friends went over the sordid events, in gruesome detail, a mysterious figure watched from the unlit porch window. The uninvited guest crept off through the yard, down the dirt-path driveway, and made a phone call:

        “They got them eyes,” it reported, “I reckon there’ll be a war.”

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken​ @just-the-hiddles​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @nildespirandum​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @latent-thoughts​ @emeraldrosequartz​ @villainousshakespeare​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @caffiend-queen​ @poetic-fiasco​ @lokimostly​ @dianamolloy​ @marvelgirlonamarvelworld​ @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0​ @cateyes315​ @mooncat163​ @nuggsmum​ @myraiswack​​​ @wolfpawn​​ @plastic-heart​​ @confusednerd09​