#i literally went to write down the word FRIDAY today and my fingers real life autocorrected it to fucking FRIDAYA

[dayabot]

daya....... dreamy.... daydreamy..... dayadreamy..... dayadreamy dayadreams

[raibebe]

Sugar and Spice

Genre: Fluff? Words: 4.390 Warnings: none for this chapter

Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | masterlist

A/N: Sugar and Spice is a series now, I know you all probably wanted more smut but I chose to write a prequel about how Jeno ended up being a sugar baby in the first place.  Since this is going to be a longer story, I wanted to try to do it in chapters instead of writing one giant thing. Later on I will switch the POV but I felt like it was needed to start off with Jeno’s.  Do not worry, there will be smut in later chapters.

Taglist: @yutaalove​, @byunniebaekhyunnie​

Like all the bad decisions Lee Jeno had made in his life, this one started with none other than Lee Donghyuck. The two boys were sitting in the university’s cafeteria where Donghyuck watched Jeno eat the food they had served with a disgusted look on his face. “I don’t understand how you can even swallow that.” “It’s either this or instant ramen again and I am pretty sure my body consists of 60% ramen already,” Jeno whined, trying to wash down what must be the most dry piece of meat he had ever tasted his entire life with some water. “Dude you work like three jobs,” Donghyuck groaned, kicking his friend beneath the table. “Got fired from the library because they caught me sleeping,” Jeno sighed deeply. “You look like you’re ready to pass out right now.” “Hyuck, I am functioning on three hours of sleep and two redbull.” “Jeno,” Donghyuck sighed and Jeno hated it when he used that tone of voice. He didn’t need Donghyuck’s pity. He could do this. He was fine. Well mostly. Apart from the fact that he got an average amount of four hours of sleep, was barely passing his classes and got fired by one of his many part time jobs every few months his life was absolutely peachy. “I’m sure if you talk to your parents again-“ “No,” he cut Donghyuck off, “I won’t come begging at their door. I chose this path for myself and they simply don’t agree Hyuck.” “Your parents suck ass,” his friend sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Pretty sure my parents would throw a party each day for a week straight if I had told them I wanted to become a vet.” “Well mine aren’t,” Jeno sighed and raked a hand through his messy hair. It was getting too long again, his bangs hanging into his eyes. Could he ask Renjun to cut it again? Did he trust the furious Chinese man with something sharp that close to his eyes?

For a while it was quiet between the two friends while Jeno continued to stuff his face with the cafeteria food. He didn’t have much time before he had to go to his shift at a little record store not far from his dorm building. It wasn’t paying the best but the owner of the shop and no issues with him doing his readings there when no customers were around. “You know that we miss you, Jeno. Right?” Donghyuck cut the silence which made Jeno stop mid bite, “We haven’t done anything with all the boys in forever and I am not counting the times we were at the club while you were working and declining the tips we were trying to give you.” “I don’t need nor want your pity money, Hyuck,” Jeno groaned again and shoved the plate with his food away. His appetite had left him. Donghyuck and him had this conversation every other week always with the same outcome: Donghyuck explaining how he was worried about him and Jeno telling him that he was fine (which he most likely wasn’t but he managed). “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make it to our meets ups, I really am,” Jeno tried to explain and Donghyuck’s eyes immediately went soft, “I just- I’m behind on my tuition again and haven’t paid the lease for the dorms for the last moth yet. I really need to take every minute and hour of overtime I can get and my grades aren’t getting any better either. This will all be for nothing if I fail my anatomy class again.” “Jeno,” Donghyuck tried again, “You can’t keep on like this for another three years.” “I have to Hyuck,” Jeno sighed, slouching back into his chair, “I have to.” His body had been screaming at him to stop whatever he was doing for weeks now and to be completely honest, he was aching for a full eight hours of sleep and not the usual four that were just disconnected naps throughout his day.

“I’m going to make a suggestion and I need you to promise me to not be mad at me, alright,” Donghyuck suddenly said, holding out his pinky finger. “Hyuck, I won’t take money from any of you. I don’t want Chenle to pay for my lease again. That was a one-time thing and I told him that I would pay him back,” Jeno immediately argued, shame running through him. He hated constantly being treated to meals and the thought that he had a debt with his younger friend even though the Chinese had told Jeno hundreds of times that he didn’t need to money back. “That’s not what I wanted to suggest. Now promise.” Jeno rolled his eyes before interlocking his pinky with one of his arguably best friends. “Actually this isn’t my idea. But Jaemin and Renjun brought it up last Friday at our movie night.” That alone made Jeno feel bad again. While his friends had been all cuddled up in Chenle’s apartment to watch some movies and eat popcorn while drinking cheap beer, he had been working in a sweaty club with horrible music that made his ears ring. “I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath but Donghyuck didn’t seem to hear him. “But hear me out: Have you ever thought about becoming a sugar baby?” Jeno lost all control over his facial muscles and was pretty sure his brain had just short circuited, his open mouth free real estate for the fruit flies that were all over the cafeteria. “No, no, think about it Jeno,” Donghyuck immediately argued, “I did my research and you can get a monthly allowance for at least a thousand dollar if not more. You’d be able to quit that job at the shady bar.” “Hyuck,” Jeno cut in when his brain had successfully rebooted, “In case you haven’t noticed in all the years we’ve been friends: I’m not gay.” “So what?” “What do you mean so what? I’m not going to prostitute myself for some old man just because I need money,” Jeno hissed between his teeth. “Oh my god Jeno,” Donghyuck sighed, “You’re so 2010. There are plenty of wealthy woman out there looking for some arm candy to pass their time.” “You’re insane Donghyuck.” “Insanely brilliant that is,” his friend grinned, “This is literally the perfect solution for all your problems.” “How is fucking some old hag going to solve any of my problems?” “Oh come on, Jeno,” Donghyuck groaned, “There are plenty of sites that let you choose your preferred partner for this kind of arrangement. And don’t even try to deny that you’re into older girls.” At that Jeno flushed a deep red color. His preference about his partners was basically an open secret in their group of friends that he had confessed after a drunken round of truth or dare some time in highschool when Renjun had asked him why he had rejected the confession of a cute girl a year below them to keep crushing on the substitute teacher they had. Chenle had not let this thing die until Jeno had started to date a girl from Mark’s class and even then the boy had made some cruel comments about their age difference. “Here, Renjun found a site that seems very legit,” Donghyuck brought him back from his memories, scribbling down a link on a piece of paper, “Please just check it out.” “That’s a lot of promises I have to give today,” Jeno mused but took the paper to put it into his pocket. “We’re just trying to look out for you Jeno.” “I know,” he sighed, “And I appreciate that.” “You’re running thin Jeno.” “I know Hyuck!” He said, making his friend flinch at his outburst, “I fucking know, okay. I’m sorry I am making you all worry with how terrible my life currently is. It’s not like I am happy about it but you could really stop bitching about it.” Just when Donghyuck opened his mouth to reply something, Jeno’s eyes shot to the big clock on the wall. “Safe it Hyuck, I need to go to my shift.” With that he got up to hoist his bag that was barely holding together onto his shoulder and basically fled the cafeteria. Donghyuck could bring back his plate, that was the least he could do.  

Once outside, the student quickly plugged in his earphones into his phone and played his favorite playlist on his way to the record store, inwardly scolding himself for being so proud and not leeching off of Jaemin’s spotify anymore when what felt like the third ad in ten minutes interrupted his vibing. At the record store, he quickly unlocked the front door and put on a random record to play over the speakers before he got situated behind the counter to try to revise his notes from today that were unreadable at best. He had fallen asleep at least twice in his morning class and had to be shaken awake by one of his classmates once the lecture was over. Great. So self-study it was.

Over the course of his shift, he was only interrupted twice from reading the chapter in the book that he was pretty sure he should have brought back to the library last week. But since he really didn’t have any money to spare for the fine, he had decided to keep it a little longer until he was at a financially better place which was nowhere near in close sight now that he was fired from his job at said library. Which brought him back to what Donghyuck had said to him. But him becoming a sugar baby? Jeno really couldn’t think of himself in such a position. Sure, he wasn’t bad looking but when he thought of the word sugar baby he thought of beautiful and petite boys like Renjun or maybe even Jaemin but him? Even though he had lost quite some muscle mass since this shitshow had begun, he was still built quiet broad and had more of a masculine, handsome feel than sweet and beautiful. And wasn’t that was sugar mommies would look for? If they wanted a man, they wouldn’t search for a someone younger. Jeno sighed loudly and let his head hit his book. This was a hopeless situation.

But he guessed having a look at the site wouldn’t hurt and so Jeno ended up typing in the address of the sugar baby site into the computer at work, praying the owner didn’t know how to check which sites he had opened once he’d delete the browser history. The site itself looked clean, mainly consisting of muted pastel colors and black font and accents. If you weren’t signed in, you didn’t get much information on what exactly was going on but the site claimed that keeping their clients data safe was their main concern since very influential people were using their site. Jeno completely blamed Donghyuck and the two redbulls he had already had for clicking on the pastel blue ‘sign up’ button. He then had to fill out basic data about himself: His gender, age, profession and interests along with his sexual orientation. He hesitated for a second when the site asked if he was okay to be partnered with someone of the same sex for a strictly platonic relationship but denied it in the end. Next he was asked to choose a nickname to chat with potential benefactors as the site called the sugar mommies and daddies. Was this where he should choose something cute to attract people to his profile? Whacking his brain for any cute plays on his actual name, he came up with exactly nothing other than the No-Jam nickname he had earned in highschool which really wasn’t cute at all. The only other thing that came to mind was when Jaemin jokingly called himself Nana and Jeno Nono in that god-awful aegyo voice which never failed to make Jeno cringe. Why did he have to choose a nickname anyways? It was to protect the benefactors; he really didn’t have anything else to lose than his dignity. Sighing, Jeno quickly typed in: ‘Jenonono’ as his nickname, only cringing slightly when choosing a password and entering his email address to confirm everything. Once he had activated his account with the link he was sent, Jeno only had to choose a couple of pictures for his profile to complete it. Well this was a problem. Jeno couldn’t even remember the last time he took a selfie where he wasn’t looking like death on two legs to send them to his friends. He quickly scrolled through his camera roll in search for at least one decently attractive photo. He only stopped scrolling when he found photos from almost a year ago before he had changed his field of study and had the fall-out with his parents. His hair was bleached a bright blonde color and the sides were shaved but he was looking good, more toned than he was now and like he actually slept at night. Not even close to how he was looking right now but it was still him, so did this count as catfishing? He quickly chose two photos with his blonde hair styled up and one with his natural haircolor from before he and Jaemin had the great idea to bleach each other’s hair and send them to himself via mail so he could upload them onto the website.

When Jeno pressed the ‘complete’ button, the site showed him on overview of what his profile would look like and it wasn’t even half bad if he did say so himself. He still felt a little uneasy about the whole thing and the fact that he was basically catfishing people into thinking he still looked so bulky and put together like he had looked last year didn’t help. “Come on Jeno, you have nothing to lose,” he grumbled and pressed the ‘confirm’ button one last time. His profile disappeared and the site instead showed Jeno their actual layout for the matching. Unlike other dating sites, he couldn’t swipe through potential benefactors himself; he had to wait until someone actually message him. Great. So he had to hope that his pictures and his honestly not great profile would lure someone in who was at least mildly attractive. Maybe no one would ever contact him and he could just throw it back into Donghyuck’s face how this had been a shitty idea to begin with. Sighing, he closed the site for now and deleted the browser history just to be safe as well.

The rest of his shift went by in a blur of trying to make sense of his scribbly notes and whatever the authors of the book he was reading were trying to teach him about the anatomy of different species and Jeno didn’t even think twice about the site he had signed up for when he closed down the shop and went home to his shitty dorm. The short trip to the convenience store only made him more aware of how poor he was when he had to choose between an actual meal and food for the cat he had recently (very much illegally) saved from the streets and taken in. He’d be more than damned if the kitten he had named Bongsik would have to suffer, so it would be a delicious meal for her and more instant ramen for Jeno.

Back at his dorm room - a single one that could barely fit his bed, wardrobe and desk - the little cat immediately rubbed its tiny head against his pant leg and Jeno couldn’t help but smile and bend down to pet the little creature. He felt a little bit of tension immediately seep from his tired muscles and indulged the kitten in a little cuddle session until he felt his eyes starting to itch. His allergies be damned! Sighing the boy got up to actually shed his jacket and shoes and opened the fresh can of delicious cat food for Bongsik who immediately devoured it. If she thought it was delicious, would it taste good for Jeno as well? Chuckling he turned back to prepare his own food, all this instant ramen might have started to take a toll on his psyche. He ate his meal in silence before throwing both containers in the trash. Jeno knew he had to work on his essay for one of his classes but for a moment he just felt the need to relax for a bit, especially now that he didn’t have to rush over to his job at the library. Taking out his phone, he quickly replied to the group chat of his friends where they were animatedly planning a trip to the cinema on Friday which Jeno had to decline. Not only did he have a shift at the bar but he also didn’t really have the money for it. Sighing he locked his phone again. Well that went great, now he was stressed again. “Bongsik you love me right?” He asked and turned towards his cat again who was lounging next to him on the floor, her belly full with delicious food. Oh to be a cat...

Jeno sighed again when his cat of course didn’t answer. He really was going insane. But it was going to be worth it, he reminded himself again. Once this was all over he would be a vet and able to help all kinds of animals. He would make good money and could pay off his tuition slowly and maybe a couple of years later he could even have his own medical practice. But to have all that, he really needed to up his grades. Especially this godawful anatomy grade. Groaning Jeno got up from the floor to plop down on his desk and start his laptop that made an awful lot of noise while booting up. Knowing that it took the device a good two minutes give or take to completely be ready, he started to go through his notes again before typing them into the document where he compiled all his notes just to have them all nice and neat in one place.

By some ungodly hour in the morning, Jeno’s eyes started to close more and more often on their own accord and the letters on the screen started to blur together despite wearing his glasses. “We should probably call it a night, Bongsik,” he spoke into the silent room, his cat already fast asleep at the foot of his bed. Fondly smiling at her, he saved his progress on both his notes and his essay and shut down his laptop. Jeno didn’t really dare to look at the time, so he just quickly grabbed his stuff for the bathroom and got himself ready for bed in the vacant bathroom he shared with a couple of other students. But at this time it was almost guaranteed to be empty.

Once back in his dorm, Jeno quickly climbed under the covers and plugged his phone in to make sure his alarm would actually go off in about 4 hours. Even though he was dead tired now that his body was surrounded by the warmth of his bed, a notification caught his attention. Leeching off of the free wifi at the record store, he had downloaded the app that came with the sugar baby site praying it would work on his outdated phone which it luckily did. Maybe the programmers had actually thought about broke students with shitty phones just like him for once. Taking a deep breath, Jeno clicked on the notification that had told him that a potential benefactor wanted to text him. Well that was quick. A lot quicker than he had anticipated. When the app had finally loaded with the shitty wifi he definitely not stole from his dorm neighbor (he had set his password as 1234, he was begging to have it stolen), a profile of a woman showed up. She smiled warmly in the picture she had chosen and it seemed to be taken at some tropical place judging by the palm trees in the background. Jeno quickly skimmed through the rest of her profile that only said that she wasn’t that much older than him. Well she was but not to the extent where she could have been his mother - ew. As her job she just had just listed estate agent. Did that pay well? Jeno didn’t know. His thumb hovered over the pastel button that said ‘accept’. If he would press this, this wasn’t just a ‘I’ll take a look at this app for Donghyuck’s sake’ then he was actually invested. But even if he accepted, he was not entitled to the woman. He could still say no if she turned out to be a creep. Hell, he didn’t even have to meet her ever if he didn’t like chatting with her. Before his courage could leave him, Jeno quickly accepted the offer and a new page opened that looked just like every other messenger.

To: Jenonono You’re up late.

What a weird way to open up a conversation. But it certainly was better than perverted innuendos or a ‘hi’ like Jaemin was continuously whining over whenever he had reinstalled tinder. But what was he supposed to reply? Should he try to act cute and coy? Was that what she would be looking for? But before he could even type anything, she had sent another message.

To: Jenonono You don’t seem like the typical boy you find on here.

What was that supposed to mean?

From: Jenonono I’m not? what are those like then?

To: Jenonono They’re not as handsome as you.

At that Jeno flushed a deep red color. He wasn’t used to such blatant flirting.

To: Jenonono I really like the blonde on you but the darker color is cute as well.

From: Jenonono it’s dark right now

As soon as he hit send, Jeno wanted to hit himself. What was she supposed to answer to that message? God he was such an idiot.

To: Jenonono Cute. Are you nervous?

From: Jenonono I have never done this before and didn’t think someone would message someone like me

To: Jenonono I haven’t been doing this for long either. And what do you mean by ‘someone like me’?

From: Jenonono you said yourself that I’m not the typical boy you would find on here...

To: Jenonono Well occasionally there is a diamond between all the rocks.

Jeno wasn’t sure if this was even an actual saying but it made him feel warm nevertheless.

From: Jenonono you’re pretty forward with your flirting

To: Jenonono Am I making you shy, baby?

As if to prove her point, Jeno almost choked on his own saliva, coughing loudly which ultimately woke up Bongsik who threw him a very much not amused gaze. He hadn’t known that just reading the word baby would have such an effect on him. A voice in the back of his head that sounded a little too much like Donghyuck called him a ‘bottom bitch’. Biting his lip he contemplated whether he should flirt back. Up until now it was fun talking to her. And he still had nothing to lose.

From: Jenonono What if I maybe blushed just the smallest bit?

To: Jenonono You’re so cute. I’m glad I found you. But you should go sleep, baby. It’s late already.

From: Jenonono shouldn’t you be asleep as well then?

To: Jenonono I just came back from a long flight and my bed seems a little lonely.

Was this his chance to get a little flirtatious himself? Was she testing him?

From: Jenonono would you want me there with you? so it’s not as lonely?

To: Jenonono That does sound very tempting, baby boy. Let me take you out for a meal before I take you to bed.

Jeno’s breath caught in his throat for a little before he broke out in little giggles. He had completely forgotten how good it felt to feel wanted between all the stress that his life currently was. Maybe but just maybe Donghyuck had been right and this truly could be the solution for many of his problems.

From: Jenonono is that an invitation?

To: Jenonono How does lunch tomorrow sound like baby? I’ll treat you to something delicious.

Gnawing at his thumb, Jeno read the message over and over. He didn’t even know the woman. Meeting up with her might be a risk. For all he knew she could be a serial killer.

To: Jenonono I know this is sudden. But I want to get to know you better. Face to face. Not just over a stupid text box.

Taking a deep breath, Jeno took all his courage and replied with shaking fingers.

From: Jenonono I have a little break between my last class of the day and before I have to go to my part time job.

To: Jenonono There is a cute little bistro not too far from where I remember the main dorm buildings were. [link attached]

Clicking on the link, a website opened and showed him a French-style bistro that judging by the address was right between his dorm and the record shop. He should be able to do it. Curiously he clicked on the menu and immediately regretted it. The prices were ridiculous. For the price of a simple piece of bread, he could easily feed Bongsik and himself for two days.

From: Jenonono isn’t this a little too much?

To: Jenonono Let me spoil you, baby. Just tell me the time and I’ll make sure that I can be there.

From: Jenonono would around one work for you?

To: Jenonono I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to meeting you. Now sleep tight and have sweet dreams, baby.

From: Jenonono maybe I’ll even dream of you

Screaming into his pillow, Jeno threw his phone away. He couldn’t believe that he just send that. Quickly grabbing his kitten, he pressed his face into her soft fur while she struggled in his hold. “Bongsik I have a date,” he whispered, “An actual date. With a potentially very rich woman. I can’t believe I actually did that.”

[jubilantwriter]

It All Began with a Big Crash

(AO3)

Summary:  It's the one year anniversary of Boyfriend and Girlfriend's growing relationship, and Boyfriend absolutely, totally, DID NOT forget that today is that special day. And yet, that one single DID NOT FORGETTing leads to a domino effect, resulting in quite possibly one of the best nights of their lives.

After all, what's the point of a performance if no one's having fun during it?

Word Count: 7154

(A/N:  Happy 1st Anniversary of Friday Night Funkin’!  I literally wrote and edited this all in one day.  Got home at midnight, started writing, and then I posted it at 10 am, took a nap, went to work, AND NOW I’M HERE ON TUMBLR :D  Anyway, FNF has been a big comfort for me these past months, so it’s only fitting that I put myself through hell to get this little bit out.  I hope you all enjoy!)

\\\\

Now, Boyfriend isn't a forgetful man.  This thought crosses his mind as he stands up abruptly after paying for his lunch and racing for the door.

"Be-!"

"Eep!"

CRASH .

But sometimes things... slip from his mind, and while he's not one prone to panic, THIS is something worth panicking over.

"-EP.  SHIT.  SORRY!"

"My dishes!"  A blonde server kneels on the ground, surrounded by the clumsy carnage created by Boyfriend inadvertently crashing into her on his rush out.  She glares accusingly at him as the boy jogs in place.  "Again, really?!"

"Sorry, sorry!"  He waves his hands in front of him before looking over his shoulder.  "I'll pay for the dishes and shit uh, later!"  He dashes out the door as she calls out behind him.

"That's what you said LAST time!"

Well, last time he was dirt poor, but now that he's pretty famous around town, he's actually got the moolah to pay for damages!  So yeah, next time!

...Is what he meant to tell her, but he's already busting into the conveniently placed flower shop, panting as he looks around wildly for help.  The florist in question glances at him completely unbothered by his entrance.  

"Forgot an important date again?" she quips, staring back down at her phone as she drapes herself over the counter.

"BAP!" he says defensively, because he DIDN'T forget!  It just... slipped his mind a little.  In his defense, he'd gotten so used to being with Girlfriend that it felt ... normal!  Like they've been together for YEARS and being with her just felt so right, and every day was the greatest day of his life because he had her by his side.  So yeah, maybe the days slipped past him in a blissful sort of way, like when he gets super focused on his music or some arbitrary task, and the hours slip by and suddenly it's the next morning!  It's kind of like that, but with a girl who makes him smile and laugh and forget that life is supposed to be difficult and hard, and not fun and invigorating.  And to think they've only been together for a year...

...A year.

...Wait.

Shit.

SHIT.

He's doing it again!

He bustles over and slaps a fifty on the counter.  "Bop!" he announces in a rush, tapping his fingers impatiently as the florist holds it up to the light. 

With a low whistle, she puts it back on the table.  "Wow, you're really going all out this time, huh?"  Before Boyfriend can respond to her sarcasm, the florist calls out to her partner in the back.  "Flower!  Miku's lil bro is back at it again, dropping a fifty and hoping for the best."

"Again?"  A husky voice makes its way over as a familiar bush of thick hair pops out from beyond the doorway.  "Boyfriend, you should know by now that apology bouquets are at least a hundred."

"Ba- skida- AUGH!  It's not an apology bouquet!"  He stomps his foot, irritated to break out the English but knowing full well it’s a matter that needs clear communication.  So not really a waste of words, just a waste of energy on two ladies who will give him shit regardless of the noise he makes.

"Oh yeah?  What's the occasion?"  The taller florist - Lily, hilariously enough - leans forward with a smirk as Flower keeps her deadpan stare.  

"It's for my anniversary!"  He crosses his arms and harrumphs as Lily whistles again.

"Damn, and you didn't invite us to the wedding?  Harsh."

"No, not that-!  Ugh, you know what I mean."

"Do we?"  Lily and Flower exchange a look before Lily's smirk widens.  "I dunno, you don't give us the dirt anymore.  Remember when you'd come in here all the time, red in the face trying to get apology bouquets for that one boy?  What's his name-"

"Pico," he answers, a bit flustered as the memories rush through his mind before shaking his head, "and he liked them all, by the way!  But this isn't about him-"

"No, it's about your new girl, right?"  Flower cuts in, leaning against the doorway with a bored expression.  "What's her favorite color?  It's not green, is it?"

"It's red, and please can you make it quick?  I dunno when she wants us to meet up, so...!"  He flashes them two thumbs up and is about to bounce, but Lily grabs the collar of his shirt with a chuckle.

"Not so fast, dumbass."  She pulls him back to the counter as he whines pathetically.  "You really think a fifty is enough for an anniversary bouquet?"

Oh no.  He starts to sweat, feeling his wallet tremble in fear.  They're doing it again.  "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean, Flower?"  Lily turns back to the shorter florist as the other makes a thoughtful hum.

"One hundred, at least."

"Yeah, at least one hundo."  Lily holds her hand out.  "C'mon, cough it up, shorty."

This is beyond unreal, but at the same time, it is completely expected from people who teased him relentlessly since he was a kid.  "If it wasn't for Miku, you guys wouldn't even be here!"

"We're only here because of convenience, please."  Lily snorts as the boy continues to struggle.  "So you aiming for an apology bouquet or an anniversary bouquet?"

"Just cut me a deal, please?  For old time's sake?" He clasps his hands together and bats his eyelashes.  "I'm still that cute little kid who used to pretend to be like Miku!  Who could forget good ol' Mikuo?"

"One hundred."  Flower cuts off the potential reminiscing and steps up to the counter.  "Or it's an apology bouquet."

Grumbling miserably, Boyfriend digs around in his pocket and manages to snag something.  He pulls out his hand and counts out four quarters.  Quietly, he puts it on top of the fifty.

Flower and Lily both look at it silently.

"...Well," Flower begins, slowly taking the money, "I did say one hundred."

Roll with it roll with it roll with it-

"Yeah, and uh, four twenty-fives makes one hundred, right?"

"What, are we speaking French now?"  Lily asks with a sneer.

"No," Boyfriend begins, blinking slowly, "pretty sure we're speaking English." 

"Oh my god."  She slaps her hand over Flower's.  "We are not doing this."

"I gave you one hundred," he argues, sweating miserably as he turns up the confidence.  

"He did give us one hundred," Flower agrees.

"You are not giving this to him.  You know he didn't even plan this!  He's too stupid to pull a slick move like that!"

Boyfriend just smiles and gives them a double thumbs up.

"It's not like anyone else is gonna be coming in to give us another job."  Flower hums and stows the money in the register, much to Lily's chagrin.  "And besides, if I get bored making it, I'll just take a nap."

"Flower-!"  Before Lily can protest even more, Flower disappears into the backroom, no doubt to either work on the bouquet or take that nap.  Lily turns back to Boyfriend and glares, jabbing a finger against his chest.  "Be back here in a few hours.  You're taking whatever the hell she makes for you, stingy little bitch."

"That's all I have on my person!"

"We accept credit and debit."

"I have bills to pay."

"You're such a little-!"  Lily makes a strangling gesture with her hands before grabbing and shaking him.  "You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

"I'm trying!"  He backs up and shoots the tall florist finger guns before vacating the premises.  Okay, one thing down.  Next: chocolates.  Easy-peasy.  What place sells heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and other cutesy, anniversary items?

Boyfriend makes a beeline for the local grocery store and spends only a total of thirty minutes there, making the proud purchase of a box of chocolates, a little teddy bear holding a heart, and even a balloon that says, "I Love You".  Score!  Damn, he's doing great so far.  And it was such a quick purchase!  Maybe Miku's friends could learn a thing or two about making quick sales instead of harassing him over every little thing.

What's next, what's next...

A place for dinner, right!  Girlfriend loves the local bar.  Great food, a nice atmosphere, open mic nights, a server who's familiar with them...

A server that he crashed into and made her drop all those dishes to the floor... like that other time he did it to her and held up the service for a sizable amount of time...

He gulps.  Hm.  She's probably still mad at him too.  But uh, huh.  He's not sure what to do.  Maybe, maybe...

He takes out his phone and dials a familiar number.  It rings only twice before a gruff, annoyed voice answers on the other side.

"I'm busy, the fuck you want?"

Without missing a beat, he gets on his metaphorical hands and knees.  "Pico, can I ask a favor, please please pretty please?"

"Wow, English.  Must be desperate."   There's a loud crash on his end before Pico's voice yells at a pair of playful, young laughter.  "Hey- hey!  Watch it!"

"Pico, so uh, could you-?"

"Hey- give me that!"   More raucous laughter fills the line as Pico sighs.  "Sorry, Bee, don't think I can help ya today.  I was supposed to just watch these two kids 'til Lila came back, but then I got a call from a pal who needs help at her joint and- Skid, Jesus fucking Christ -"   There's some shuffling and a grunt as a playful squeal rings a little too close to the phone.  Pico continues as though nothing happened on his end.  "-and so basically I'm double booked for the night."

"Oh, okay."  He tries not to let the disappointment seep into his voice, but another sigh from Pico suggests that he heard it regardless.  

"Look, I'm real sorry, wish I could help, but a line's formin' and I can only do so much."   Pico grunts and a soft thump is heard.  Two voices chatter away distantly in the background, but Boyfriend focuses solely on Pico.  "Why?  What happened?"

"Well, today's me and Girlfriend's anniversary, and I wanted to take her out but-"

"Can't figure out a place to take her?  C'mon man, you- Jesus, you two, slow down, I'm comin'- you already know one."

"Yeah, the bar but-"

"What, ya worried about 'bout lines or somethin'?  I know it's busy and shit, but I'm sure Serv will get ya guys' a table easy.  It's just you two, you'll be fine."

"Okay, but-"

"Oh my GOD, what the HELL is THAT?!"  

A faint, childish voice answers Pico's horrified question as Boyfriend listens in.  "That's Moloch!"

"...MOLOCH?"

A roar sounds from Pico's side of the phone call.  The voice - uh, Skid, was it? - laughs excitedly.  "Yeah!  He's our friend!"

"He lives in Skid's attic!"

A demonic voice nearly blows out Boyfriend's eardrums.  "GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"...Does your MOM know about this?!"

"Sorta!  She thinks he's a rat."

"Hey hey HEY, back OFF-!  Sorry, Bee, I'll call ya later!"  

The last thing he hears is another roar before the line hangs up.  Pico will probably be fine - he's handled worse after all, and even Boyfriend's faced off a demon or two!  Maybe three, if that Lemon Man those two kids were friends with counted as well.  Man, demons are just everywhere, huh?

...Speaking of demons.  There’s one demon he really should be focusing on.  Like getting their dinner date set up at her favorite bar in town.  Even though he’s probably on that bar’s shitlist for knocking over their number one employee again .

But Girlfriend really does love going to that bar, and if it's for her...  Fuck it, he'll suck it up and take whatever Server-chan's got against him.  He'll just challenge her to a quick rap battle, win, and THEN they can have a nice dinner!  Yeah, that's what he'll do.  Lily's words replay in his mind as he walks off to his apartment to change into something nicer.

"You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

Fuck yeah he will.

"Damn, after all these years, you still can't tie a tie."  Lily frets over his outfit as she helps him tidy up a bit.  A colorful ribbon now decorates the box of chocolates, tying it together with the teddy bear with the balloon also tied around its wrist.  He grabs the tied together present after she rolls his sleeves up to his elbow.

"Bouquet?" he asks hopefully as Lily dusts off his shoulders for the hundredth time.  

She huffs and shakes her head, blowing a stray hair out of her face.  "You're lucky Flower didn't take a nap halfway through.  It's her best work so far!  All for the low, low cost of $51, tax not included."

"There's tax?!"  He almost falls over, but Lily grabs him by the collar of his dress shirt.

"Chill out, we'll charge it to Miku's account."

"Oh, thanks."  He swats away her hands when she tries to tuck in the other half of his shirt.  "Fuck off, it's part of my style!"

"What, being sloppy?"

"The ladies love it."

"Your lady deserves better."

"But I'm the best there is!"

"Oh, God," Lily groans as her expression falls into despair.  "Egotism really does run in the family."

"Enough about the family ego," Flower pipes up, her hands full with a large, beautiful bouquet.  "These flowers need to be appreciated."

"Holy shit."  Boyfriend takes the entire bouquet, admiring the reds, pinks, and whites.  There's a smattering of small, lavender flowers here and there, making the other colors pop.  "Roses!" he points out, the only flower he recognizes.

"Yup, and there's also lilies, alstroemeria, and-"

"Don't waste your breath," Lily cuts in, covering Flower's mouth before she can list them all out.  "He won't remember any of the names."

A disappointed sigh escapes Flower, so he gives her the biggest grin he can muster.  "Yo, I still think it's hella bomb to look at.  I really think she'll love it!"

Flower perks up a bit, a small smile forming on her usually stoic face.  "...Cool."

"Alright, get outta here."  Lily shoves him back to the door with a grin.  "You got a hot date, yeah?  Go give her the night of her life!"

"Yeah!"  He waves to the pair before leaving.  "Gonna have a great night at the bar!"

Lily's smile falters as Flower's smile immediately disappears.  "...The what?"

"See ya!"

"Wait, Boyfriend!  You're taking her out to the fucking BAR?!"  

He doesn't have the time to turn back and answer Lily, so he goes along his merry way, bouquet clutched tightly against his chest with the bear.  Hopefully the incident from earlier today has been swept away.  He really doesn't want to have a rap battle with Server-chan, but if he has to...

"Boyfriend!"  A sweet, melodic voice pulls him from his thoughts as he looks over to see his beautiful, wonderful Girlfriend.  Her iconic look now sports a sleek, black jacket reminiscent of her mother's own jacket.  It looks stunning on her, and a soft, longing "beep" escapes him as she giggles and kisses his cheek.  "Hey, hun.  Happy anniversary!"

"Happy anniversary!"  He holds out his gifts for her to take, and he delights in her unabashed joy as she takes them.

"Oh!  This teddy bear is so cute, and these flowers are lovely!"  Another giggle escapes her as she points at the bouquet.  "Roses!"

"That's what I said!"  They both share a laugh before her smile settles into something soft and relaxed.

"Now I wish I got you something too..."  Girlfriend pouts a bit, but he kisses it away with a grin.

"Hey, don't sweat it!  Lemme spoil you for the night instead."  He offers her his arm, and she happily loops hers with his.  They walk into the bar together and are met with a familiar face standing behind a podium.  Despite being the hostess, Cassette Girl keeps her iconic cap on as she notices them and greets them with a lazy smile.

"Wooow," she drawls out, giving Boyfriend a knowing grin.  "Back again so soon?  And after that huge fuss you made."

"Fuss?"  Girlfriend gives Boyfriend a curious look.  

"Uhh, beep bah."

"Didn't tell her about your mishap, huh?"  Cassette Girl raises an eyebrow and shakes her head.  "Well, if you wanted to know, Serv got it figured out.  Called in a favor last minute, and luckily he was nice enough to help out."  

"Sorry about that," he says sheepishly, and Cassette Girl merely shrugs.

"It's whatever.  Not the first time you messed her up real good.  And besides, you're not even the first person to make her crash and burn for a hot minute."  

"Is this still about the fuss you guys are talking about?"  Girlfriend looks between the two as Cassette Girl chuckles.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it.  Lemme take ya to your seats.  Bar or nah?"  

"Nah, it's our anniversary date today!"

"And you guys are spending it here?”  She pauses for a second in thought before shaking her head.  “Alright."  Cassette Girl takes it in stride and seats them near the miniature stage.

"Oh, is it open mic night tonight?"  Girlfriend sits down, already excited for the night as Cassette Girl chuckles and hands them the menus.

"Nah, originally we had a band booked tonight, but their back-up vocalist got injured, so they called it off last minute.  It's gonna be a quiet night instead."

"Aww."  The pout on Girlfriend's face lasts only a second before her smile returns.  "Oh well!  Sometimes quiet is nice too."

"Right you are.  Anyway, your waiter will be with you guys in just a sec, so take your time.  We're not too busy tonight, so feel free to cause more havoc."  She flashes a grin before walking back to her station.  

Girlfriend waves goodbye and turns back to Boyfriend with a smile.  "Cassey is so nice!  I wish we could talk to her more."  

"Maybe we'll catch her on the street one of these days."  He cracks open the menu, perusing the contents before deciding on getting his usual.

"Maybe!  Should I try something new tonight?"

"Wouldn't hurt."

"But I don't know what to get..."

"Maybe we can ask the waiter?"  He looks around for their supposed waiter, but all he sees is an unimpressed Pico standing at their table.  "Oh!  Pico!  You're dressed like a waiter!"

True to his observations, Pico is dressed similarly to Server-chan; a black long sleeved shirt replaces his usual green sweater, and a pair of black slacks replaces his usual beige cargo pants.  The only splash of color on his outfit is the bright orange apron that all servers seem to wear as per uniform, and it absolutely clashes with Pico's own bright, red hair.  

"That's because I am the waiter, dumbass."  The bite from his remark is lost from the tired slump of his shoulders, and the ginger begins to resemble Server-chan with each passing second.  "At least for tonight.  She called me in for a favor, and I agreed to help."

The conversation from earlier today pings in Boyfriend's memory.  "Is this what you meant when you said you were double booked?"

"Yeah.  Told me some blue-haired douchebag steamrolled her on his way out, and she ended up breaking a whole buncha dishes.  She went out to go replace the whole set, so I'm coverin' for the rest of her shift while she takes care of it.  Now that I think about it," Pico fixes him with a stern, knowing glare as Boyfriend shrinks under his sharp eyes, "I kinda already know about a certain blue-haired douchebag."

"I'll pay her back, I promise."  

"You fuckin' better."  Pico looks over to Girlfriend and offers her a tired grin when she waves cheerfully.  "Hey, Red, he treatin' ya well tonight?"

"Yup!  He got me chocolates, a bear, a balloon, AND a bouquet!"

"Really spoilin' ya there."

"Only the best for Gigi, right?"  He nudges Pico playfully, the earlier irritation already melting away from his expression as he rolls his eyes and ruffles Boyfriend's hair.

"Yeah yeah.  Ya guys ready to order?"

Pico takes their orders and departs quickly, the couple watching him disappear somewhere in the bar as their collective thoughts gather on one thing only.

"Mm, Pico should wear uniforms more often, huh?"

"It definitely looks flattering on him."  They both hum before taking sips from the water Pico had set down earlier while taking their orders.  With no ginger to distract them, Girlfriend's attention centers back on Boyfriend as she smiles.  "Thanks for taking me out here for dinner!  I know it's not easy for us to go out on dates since my parents still hover, so I'm really happy that we went out like you planned!"

"Oh yeah, totally."  His easy grin hides the absolute panic he had for the entire half of his day when he realized he had nothing planned.  "I wish I could treat you out for something better, but nothing else is really happening around this time of year-"

"Except for Spooky Month!"  Two voices pipe up out of nowhere as the costumed duo surprise the couple.  

"Oh, goodness, hello!"  She laughs as Skid and, uh, Pump?  Stand by their table looking curious.  "How have you two been?"

"Okay!  Mr. Pico has been babysitting us since Mom's been busy with her work stuff."  Skid bounces on his heels as Pump looks up more calmly.  "We wanted to introduce him to Moloch, but..."

"He didn't like him too much.  He said Moloch is more scary than spooky."  Pump sticks his tongue out and laughs.  "Silly Mr. Pico!  He does not understand that Moloch is our friend!"

"Moloch?"  Girlfriend hums as bobs her head in thought.  "That name sounds familiar.  There was a demon that went missing months ago by that name..."  

"Oh, weird!"

"Moloch came to us months ago too!  But now he stays in Skid's attic."

"It's like a sleepover every day!"

"That sounds like fun!"  She giggles as the kids bounce around her.

Boyfriend watches with a smile before remembering that “double booked” thing that Pico mentioned earlier.  Were these the kids he was watching when Boyfriend called…?  "So why are you guys here?  If Pico is supposed to be babysitting you guys, but is working here instead..."  Boyfriend wonders how Pico manages to balance so many jobs at once.  He himself can barely handle the one!  

"Mr. Pico said that he didn't trust Moloch and wanted us to stay somewhere safer."

"Which is weird, because Moloch is our friend!  But it made him happier, so we came here with him."

"It's boring here, so Pump and I have been teaching lots of people how to spooky dance!"

"Oh?"  Girlfriend indulges them and smiles as they crowd closer to her.  "Can you show me too?"

"You don't know the spooky dance?"

"We should show her!"

"It goes like this!"  The pair of children do a little dance for her, and a happy laugh escapes her as she watches.  Boyfriend leans back and enjoys her happiness as the kids continue to chat with her.

"That looks like fun!"

"You can do it too!"  Skid tugs on her hands, and it's enough to get her to stand up.  "Just hold out your hands like this-"

"-and then you move like this!"  The two of them demonstrate one more time before looking at Girlfriend expectantly.  It takes her a few times, but the kids are surprisingly patient and more than happy to show her as many times as she requests until she gets it right.  The sight of her having so much fun melts his heart, and he sighs as he watches her enjoy herself.  

"Damn, look at you, meltin' into the table."  

Boyfriend nearly slams his face against the table, making Pico guffaw as he puts their meals on the table.  "Dude!"

"What?  Just spittin' facts.  Hey!"  Pico's hands come to rest on his hips as he glares at the kids.  Both Girlfriend and Boyfriend exchange a look, hiding their amused grins behind their hands as Pico takes on his caretaking role.  "Skid, Pump, what did I say 'bout botherin' the customers?"

"Uhh..."  The two kids freeze in place, looking at each other before looking at Pico.  "Don't?"

"And what are you two doin'?"

"Bothering your friends!"  Pump grins as Skid nods in agreement.  "They are not customers, right?"

A puff of a laugh escapes Girlfriend as Boyfriend nudges Pico.  "Yeah dude, we're your friends, not customers.  We should get a de-"

A glare is enough to silence Boyfriend, but Girlfriend's composure quickly falls apart as a fit of giggles escapes her.  Pico ignores her as he focuses his attention on his two charges.  "They're still customers."

"But it's boring here!"

"Yeah, it's too quiet.  You said there'd be music!"

"But there's no music, except for the soft elevator music."

"But that's boring too."

Both boys pout as Pico sighs and massages his temples.  "Look, I didn't know the band would cancel today.  After I'm done here, we can do something fun , okay?"

"Like getting candy?"

"Yeah, like gettin' candy."  The two kids cheer and run off somewhere before Pico can stop them.  "Hey-!"

"Damn, Pico, I didn't think you'd be good with kids."  Boyfriend snickers as he eats a fry, watching as Pico sighs for the umpteenth time.

"You call that bein' good with kids?"

"It's better than I'd ever expect outta you."

"Rude little bitch."  Pico snatches a few fries and chomps on them, ignoring Boyfriend's protests.  

"When do you get off, Pico?"  Girlfriend spins her fork around in her pasta before feeding the first bite to Boyfriend, keeping her eyes on Pico as the ginger hums thoughtfully.

"Technically nine, but I gotta watch the kids 'til ten.  That's when Lila comes back from her shit."

"Do you wanna come over for movie night?"  She looks over to Boyfriend who nods in agreement.  Pico laughs and shakes his head.

"Ain't this supposed to be ya guys' anniversary date?  Why the hell am I bein' invited?"

"'Cause it's more fun when you join us!"  Boyfriend pipes up, making his eyes go wide with hope, knowing how much of a sucker Pico is for his puppy dog eyes.  Like he predicts, Pico grumbles and looks away, a slight blush to his cheeks as he tries to regain his composure.

"Touchin', but nah.  It's y'all's day.  It's not my place to interrupt."  

"You wouldn't be-!"  A ringtone goes off in the middle of her sentence.  Girlfriend pauses, taking her phone out as her smile vanishes.  "Oh, just a minute."  She leaves the table quickly as she answers her phone with a faint, "Hi, Daddy..."

"Hm."  They watch her go outside before Pico turns back to Boyfriend.  "I hope you have somethin' really good planned for tonight."

"Well, I don't have anything planned, per se-"

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"But!  Movie night is gonna be a thing!  Or, was."  Boyfriend frowns, not liking how it was her dad who called her.  Knowing him, he could be asking her to come home earlier than planned, ruining their romantic movie night.  "I was gonna play it by ear, y'know, in case something like that happens."

"Fair."  Pico crosses his arms and fixes Boyfriend with a stare.  "So how are you gonna save this night then?"

"Dunno yet."  Boyfriend bites his lip and scratches at the table.  "Like I said, I don't have much planned, so like..."  His eyes wander over to the stage.  A keyboard is the only instrument present on the stage alongside the stereos.  He blinks slowly at the sight of it, a hum low in his throat.  

"What?  Ya suddenly got an idea?"  Pico follows his gaze and whistles low.  "Gonna sing a love song?"

"What?  No."  A pause.  "Maybe.  I dunno."

"You dunno?"

"I don't really have a song lined up."  But it would be perfect.  She loves it when he sings.  Or raps.  Or does anything really.  And she did seem a little disappointed when she found out that there wasn't going to be a show tonight...

"You're a rapper," Pico supplies easily.  "Just freestyle."

"But I don't have any beats."  Which is true, unless he gets some help.  His eyes wander up to meet Pico's gaze.  "...Can I ask a favor?"

"Shoot."

"You still beatbox?"

And Pico smirks.  "Only if ya got a plan."  

Boyfriend looks around the bar, his eyes landing on the Spooky Boys and Cassette Girl.  Music flows behind his eyes as he maps out the beats and flows on the spot.  Fingers tap out the rhythm he wants to follow, and Pico taps his foot in tandem.  "I think," he says, watching as Girlfriend comes back into the bar with a gloomy look on her face, "I've got a plan."

Pico leans forward, and Boyfriend quickly whispers it to him before shooing the ginger away.  When Girlfriend takes her seat, Boyfriend takes it upon himself to buy some time for Pico as he keeps Girlfriend's attention on him.

"Something up?"

"Oh, it's just Daddy."  Her frown deepens, and Boyfriend can feel his heart drop from the sight.  She shouldn't be unhappy on their anniversary - of course her dad would ruin things for her.  "He wants me to come home early, says he doesn't want me to stay over too late since he doesn't trust you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Tch.  Your old man needs to lay off."  From the corner of his eye, he sees Cassette Girl wander to some backroom, only to reappear with a few more coworkers as one of them takes over her position by the podium.  Pico follows her next, helping her set up a couple of mics as she tests out the keyboard.  The noises catch the attention of the patrons, including Girlfriend as she turns in interest at the ruckus.

"What's going on?  Oh, is there a show happening after all?"  A small smile forms on her lips as she watches the prep.  "I wonder who they managed to get!"

"Yeah, I wonder."  Boyfriend lets her watch them for a second longer before taking her attention again.  "So how long can you stay out?"

"Mmm, at most, maybe an hour?  Daddy's imps will come and pick me up, regardless of where I am."  She puffs her cheeks out, which would normally be cute if she wasn't so distressed.  "Mommy was okay with me spending the night!  But Daddy won't even let me stay before midnight, so that ruins movie night..."

"Hey, don't worry about it.  We can always have movie night whenever."  He reaches over and takes her hand, giving it a firm, comforting squeeze.  

"But today was supposed to be our day."  She frowns again, holding onto his hand as she sighs softly.  "We were supposed to have a nice night doing whatever we wanted.  And now that's going to be ruined because my dad is being... himself again."

Random beats start playing.  It takes them both by surprise as they turn around to see Pico messing with... some kind of pad?  Is that a launchpad?  Cassette Girl shakes her head and points to some buttons before Pico nods and- ah.  So he didn't steal it from someone.  Clearly, it was Cassette Girl's own device.  

"What are they doing?"  Girlfriend watches with more interest as the two kids clamber onto the stage, Pico talking to them softly as they nod along to whatever he's saying excitedly.  He wags his finger like a metronome, and the boys both follow its movement before nodding furiously as he grins and pats the tops of their heads.  As Pico looks up from the boys, he meets Boyfriend's gaze and gives a small nod before standing up.

"They're getting a show ready for you."  Boyfriend grins when Girlfriend looks over to him bewildered.

"What do you mean, for me?"

"Heeeellloooo, everyone!"  Cassette Girl speaks into the microphone with her familiar drawl, getting the patrons to quiet down as they watch with rapt attention.  "Now, as you know, our booked gig for tonight ended up cancelling, but at the very last minute, we managed to snag another performer instead!  You may be familiar with his bright blue hair and obnoxious voice," a rumble of laughter rolls through the crowd, but he takes it all in stride as he waits for the intro to end, "but he's gotten pretty famous throughout these parts for his amazing freestyle rap!  Dedicated to his lovely Girlfriend of one year, we have Mr. Boyfriend, here to perform for one night only!"

"Boyfriend?!"  Girlfriend's eyes widen in excitement as he stands from his seat, grinning confidently as he winks to her.  It's not often he gets to perform for the sake of performing, so he wants to make this the best performance she's ever seen.

"You better give this girl a helluva anniversary."

As if he wasn't.

He takes the offered microphone from Cassette Girl as she takes her place behind the keyboard.  

"Heya, folks!"  He waves out to the crowd as the people who recognize him from his many rap battles cheer him on.  Girlfriend cheers from the crowd, for once enjoying the show as just a normal person, instead of being in the thick of it.  "Like Cassey said, this show is dedicated to my Girlfriend.  I started this whole career for her, and if it weren't for her, I never would have found this flow in my life.  I love her more than any song can convey, so I hope a show's worth of songs can get the message along.  Now are you ready to get funkin' lit?!"  

The crowd erupts into cheers as Girlfriend stands and cheers the loudest, her smile wide and bright as she pumps her fist in the air.  They wait for the crowd to calm down before Pico starts his beatboxing.  The beat begins slow, the notes sounding familiar as recognition settles on Girlfriend's features.

"Yo," he begins, holding the microphone close to his lips as he gets into the beat, "it's the remix."   Pico's beatboxing continues before Cassette Girl joins in with her keyboard.  The beat plays from the launchpad as the beatboxing ends, and that's his cue to start rapping.

"Don't look complacent, wearin' those rags, you ain't adjacent.  Lookie, I'm fly, and you look basic.  Look in her eyes, and I feel like takin' it for the win."   He meets Girlfriend's gaze with a grin as he waves his hand back and forth, pumping the crowd up as he continues to rap.

"Her dad be evil, no twin.  Skin purp' like the Sprite, sippin'.  He open his yap and you wouldn't believe it's the sound of an angel when he spittin'."   At Pico's cue, Skid and Pump join in with a chant of, "Go man go!  Go man go!"   They keep it up as Boyfriend continues to rap, the energy high and exciting as he performs for fun.

"Even though he look like a demon, hold my blue nuts as I battle for the takin'.  Of this girl, I just wanna hold her hand.  Look in our DM's and it's like candy land."   Boyfriend kneels on the stage and gestures for Girlfriend to come closer.  Without missing a beat, Girlfriend makes her way over, her head bobbing in time to the rhythm as she smiles blissfully.

"Yo, I really can't bust when her evil ass dad tryna make my ass be grass.  So I got one shot, learned to spit real hot, and it might just go like this."   As he takes her hand, he pulls her onto the stage and the Spooky Boys go quiet for his next lines.

"I don't mean no disrespect, but there's something about her I can't let go.  Baby, you know that I love you, even though my balls are blue."   The joke gets a giggle from Girlfriend, and it takes all his willpower not to stop rapping just to kiss her right there.

"I want to spend my life with her, even if her dad is evil or some shit.  Now spit it like this: we gettin' freaky on a Friday night, chyeah!"  The crowd goes wild as he scoops Girlfriend up in one arm, cradling her against his body as he continues to rap.  Her arms wrap around his neck as she leans against him, warm and happy in his embrace.

As she should be.  

The Spooky Boys return with the chant, pumping the crowd up some more as they cheer loudly with the rap.

"I just want to hold her tight, chyeah!  Her hair, her eyes, her thighs, yeah.  If I die, it'll all be worth it.  Just to get a chance to show she's worth it!"  He sways with the beat, watching as the crowd gets into the performance.  Besides him, Cassette Girl is grinning, nodding her head to the beat as she plays the mellow tunes on her keyboard.  Pico meanwhile focuses his attention alternating between beatboxing and playing the right beats on the launchpad, all while paying attention to the song and directing when the boys start and end their chant.  Despite the amount of tasks on his shoulders, he holds himself high and proud, enjoying himself with a smile as he moves with the beat.  Even the kids are enjoying themselves, bouncing on the spot and watching Pico intently for his cues.  A part of Boyfriend wonders if they're even paying attention to the lyrics or if they're too engrossed in the beats and sounds coming from the keyboard and launchpad to even care.

Not that it matters.

All that matters is that they're all having fun .  He looks out into the crowd and sees smile upon smile as they're all enjoying themselves to the music.  This.  This is what performing is all about.  The energy, the enjoyment, everyone losing themselves to the music and forgetting their woes and worries for even just a minute-

That's what makes it all so worth it.

He raps the chorus one last time before letting the beat peter out, Pico ending the song with his beatboxing increasing in tempo before ending it abruptly.  The crowd continues their cheers as Boyfriend yells into his microphone.

"You guys ready for more?!"

There's no doubt in his mind that he will absolutely be banned from the bar after this show, just with how rowdy the crowd is getting.  But it's all worth it in the end as he nods to his friends to play whatever beat that comes to mind.  He'll come up with the lyrics on the fly, all of them dedicated to Girlfriend as he sets her down and holds her tight to his side as they sway together.

He doesn't know how long they go for.  All the hype and excitement pushes him to continue, and when he looks over to see if Pico or Cassette Girl or even the boys look just a little tired, he's surprised to see them too excited to even consider taking a break.  The night is filled with raps filled with jokes and love as the clock finally strikes ten.  

Time to end the show.

"Alriiiight, everyone!"  Cassette Girl takes the microphone back from Boyfriend, panting slightly as she gestures to the crowd that grew during the performance.  "Unfortunately, that's it for this show!  Thanks for watching, hope you enjoyed your meals, and please, come back again when we host another gig or open mic!"  The crowd applauds as they all bow.  Cassette Girl pats his shoulder with a grin and turns back to help Pico clean up.  Girlfriend clings to his side, giggling and burying her face against his neck.

"Ohhh, that was so much fun!"  Her giddiness makes him laugh as he hugs her tight, covering her face in kisses as he breathes for the first time since the performance began.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Are you kidding?!"  She laughs and picks him up, twirling them together in a circle before cuddling him midair.  "That was the most fun I've had in ages!"

"I'm glad," he admits, relief washing over him that their night was a success after all.  "Sucks we didn't finish our dinners though."

"I can get boxes for them."  Pico shows up next to them, both kids curled up in his arms as they cling to him.  "Or, uh, I can get Cass to get 'em for ya."

"Aww, are they tired?"  Girlfriend sets Boyfriend down to take a look at the kids.  "They did a really good job tonight!"  Skid lifts his head up, a tired but bright smile on his face as he giggles.

"That was fun!  I wanna do it again, Mr. Pico!"

"I'll think about it.  Remember what we promised before the show?"

"No repeating the bad words around mom," both boys respond, although Pump's words are muffled against Pico's shirt.  He chuckles and nods towards the couple.  

"I gotta get these kids home.  You guys get some rest too."

"We will."  Boyfriend stretches, feeling worn out from the show.  

"See ya."

"Bye, Pico!"  Girlfriend waves as Pico walks off, the two kids waving from Pico's arms.  "He really is good with kids, even if he won't admit it."

"He's always been protective of them."  They both hum, the thought sobering them a bit as they watch the ginger disappear in the crowd.  "We should visit him later and make sure he's okay too."

"Sounds like a plan."  Girlfriend smiles and takes his hand, swinging their arms between them.  A waitress comes by quickly, helping them pack their barely eaten dinners and shooing them out of the bar.  As they leave, Boyfriend passes by Server-chan, her expression still looking exhausted as their eyes meet.  But despite this, she smiles when she sees him, and he hopes she had fun too during his show.

He and Girlfriend walk for about five minutes before a limo pulls up beside them.  She sighs and turns to hug him tight, her face buried in his shoulder before she kisses him softly.

"Thanks for the lovely night," she whispers, soft and tender as the warmth from her cheek seeps through his shirt.  "It really was the best night of my life."

"I'm glad then," he whispers back, pressing a kiss to her temple.  "'Cause I'm gonna make sure I make every night the best night of your life from now on."

She giggles, pulling herself away reluctantly before climbing into the limo.  He watches as it drives away into the night, leaving him alone.

The night air is cold and brisk, but he finds himself warm regardless.  A smile wide and bright on his face as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, a tune coming out in the form of a whistle as he walks home.

What a night to remember.

[pikapikabishes]

It's Okay Now(Kirishima x gn!Reader)

Disclaimer: all characters rightfully belong to their original creators, only thing that is mine is the plot. Also do not copy my writing. Thank you

Summary: Class 3A's Y/n was having a jolly day hanging out with the BakuSquad, including her amazing bf of over 6 months, Eijirou Kirishima, even with all the stress piling up, like a shaken soda bottle ready to burst, until said explosion finally happened. Triggered by the littlest, probably stupidest event

Warnings: anxiety (?), panic attacks, not eating for days, mentions death, suggestive themes, a bit of swearing

Mentions: mental breakdown, overworking oneself, starvation, hyperventilating, ugly crying, kiri being absolutely biggest sweetheart, daddy!Kiri breifly

A/n: this is my first fic on Tumblr so please be nice, and if you enjoyed it, like and comment

Everything hurt. My head, my eyes, my chest, my mind. I don't even know what happened. One minute I'm perfectly fine, having a good time with my friends, the next I'm in this situation.

Im sitting in the middle of my dorm on the floor, crying and sobbing over the smallest thing. I admit being stressed with everything going on in my life; with upcoming school exams , training every single day to improve my ultimate moves, and the biggest clicher... my dad's passing a couple months prior.

This whole time I've just been bottling it all up, trying my hardest to put up a brave front as to not worry my mom, who already has a lot on her plate, my friends and boyfriend, Kirishima. To be frank, I haven't even told my class or Kiri, keeping a bright smile as to not hint them in on my life crashing down around me. Some days are easy to keep up my smile, to let my mind focus on something else, and then there are harder days when everything reminds me of my dad.

I was real close to him, we did a lot of fun stuff together; going to amusement parks, going out to see movies we both were really excited to watch, going out to eat at our favorite restaurants.

It still doesnt feel real after all this time. It felt just like yesterday he was perfectly fine, we were celebrating my grandma's birthday, and literally the next day, I find him stiff and eerily still in his bed. And then everything crashing down on me as the paramedics regretfully tell me that my dad was no longer of this world, when I sob into the phone to my mom that my dad was gone, when I listened to my grandma's wails as my mom told her of her son's passing.

It all felt so surreal, like if I go over to see my grandma at her house, I'll see my dad sitting there in the living room, greeting me with his smile and warm hugs and kisses.

I sob harder as I remember all the times we watched Disney movies and me crying at some scenes as my dad happily comforts me. Buying me a toy from one of the movies I adored at the time. Him gifting me a puppy when he moved into a new neighborhood and I didnt have anyone to play with.

My head's pounding, a deep pressure in my brain, as I clutch tightly to the same doll he bought me all those years ago. My screams silent as I try to keep my classmates from finding me in such a pathetic state and worrying about me, my brain not processing that everyone was still at school. I fought to take control of my emotions again, wanting to be strong for my mom, grandma, and my friends. Unknowning of the pace of my breathing as I desperately tried to grasp my emotions.

My stress and anxiety climbing higher with each panicked breath. All those late nights I stayed up studying as much as I can for the midterm exams, catching up to me. I even forsaken eating as to study so I can at least get a passing grade. And the times I didnt spend studying was spent training to try and get my mind to focus on anything rather than fully face the reality that I no longer live in a world with my dad in it.

When was the last time I had a fulfilling meal? Three days?? And the time before that?? I dont even remember, the pounding in my head preventing me from thinking too much. All I can think about is what caused this stupid meltdown in the first place, my frustrations climbing higher with my stress and anxiety.

~~~

Today was one of those days where it was hard to keep up my smile for people. In an attempt to cheer myself up, I made myself the same lunch my dad and I used to make together for later, excited to eat as this was my first actual meal in days.

As I stroll down the hallways to meet up with Kiri and the rest of the BakuSquad, someone in a rush, bumps into me full force, causing me to fall and drop my lunch on the floor. I only had a moment to grieve as I see my precious lunch splattered all over the floor before the person that bumped into me uttered a measly, rushed "sorry" before hurrying on their way, stepping my lunch in the process.

I stayed there in my position on the floor, looking at my lunch with grief. I know it was stupid to start crying over something that can be replaced with something else that Lunch Rush made, but there the crocodile tears were. My heart and mind had wanted that lunch.

Without thinking I got up and ran out of school and towards the dormitories, deaf to the calls of my fellow 3A classmates and the incoming call on my phone.

~~~

I was brought back to the present by the sound of pounding coming from my dorm door. I was still fighting for control, not able to send a reply without my sobs mixing in with my voice.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through the door. Of course it would be Kiri to be checking up on me. "I tried calling you to see where you were, but you didn't answer. Tsuyu told me she saw you running off upset when I went to go looking for you."

For some reason I sobbed harder, barely able to keep quiet.

"Princess/Prince, please tell me what's wrong, I'm getting really worried."

He stayed quiet for a moment, anxiously waiting for my response. And of course my body betrays me when an ugly sob wracks through my very being, unable to quiet it down.

"Princess/Prince, are you crying?!" Kiri's voice carried his panic and worry. "I'm coming in!" He warned before slamming the door open.

I barely raised my head to meet his worried crimson eyes as his giant frame took up most of the doorway, frozen. His expression falls at the sight of the giant crocodile tears running down my face, distress written all over my expression.

Without saying anything, he rushed over to my side, his big, warm hand landing on my back, immediately rubbing gentle circles as to comfort me.

"Baby, what's wrong? Tell me," he asked, voice trying to soothe me. I shook my head, unable to say or utter a word and I dropped my head again, breathing erratic. "You're hyperventilating, baby. You need to try and calm down a bit."

More sobs was the only thing I responded with. Hearing some shuffling, a moment passed before a soft calming melody sounded through the storm in my mind, along with the sound of gentle falling rain. It was the same several hour music track that I would usually listen to when something was bothering me.

I've always loved the sound of falling rain and ocean waves.

Kiri dropped his phone to the floor, letting the music wrap us in its soothing melody. He brought his hand to my cheek to gently bring my face up and face him. His expression sad as he gets a better look at my distraught, of the crocodile tears streaming down my face, of the deep sadness in my eyes.

Letting his other hand to join my face, he gently wiped away my tears as I tried to control my breathing. "Baby, you have to calm down. It's okay now, I'm here," he said in a gentle voice, bringing me up onto his lap, and wrapping his strong arms around me.

I clutch onto his uniform jacket, burying my face into his chest as I sobbed away, ruining his uniform with my tears and snot.

He gently rocked the both of us, bringing one of his hands up to my head as he softly brushed his fingers through my hair. "Shhh, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he whispered in my ear.

I don't know how long we sat there, listening to falling rain, Kiri rocking us, whispering calming words into my ear before my breathing was back to normal and my sobs turning into sniffles. Even long after I've calmed down, Kiri still held onto me tightly, grounding me from the storm whirling in my mind.

Only when I lifted up my head from his chest to look up at him did he give me a soft smile, reaching up to brush away strands of hair from my face and eyes. Then, Kiri reached over to his phone, pausing the music before turning back to me.

"Feeling better?"

I slowly nodded my head, my voice hoarse as I finally managed to give a reply, "Yeah, a little bit."

"What happened back there?" Kiri asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

Tears were already welling up in my (e/c) eyes, my bottom trembling as I fought to hold back the tears. Kiri reached up one hand to hold my chin, his thumb softly brushing my bottom lip.

"Please baby, I hate seeing you so distraught," he told me, eyes full of concern as he continued to stroke my bottom lip, as if trying to coax the words to come out, to explain what was paining me so much so he can fix it.

"I-" I stuttered, sniffling back the tears. "I miss him."

"Miss who, baby?" Kiri asked, confused.

"M-my dad," I said, voice now shaky as the tears started falling again. "I m-miss him so much."

Kiri seemed to come to the conclusion that I might have only been extremely homesick. "Why dont you go visit him today then? It's Friday, so you can just stay with him for the weekend."

I violently shook my head. "I-I can't."

"Why not, baby?" He started stroking my back again to try and comfort me.

"H-he died! Two months ago!" I sobbed, pressing my face to his chest again.

"Oh fuck. Shit, I am soo sorry baby. Why didn't you tell me?" Kiri asked, hugging me tightly to him. "I would've been there for you."

"I-I didn't w-want to w-worry y-you," I cried.

Kirishima started rocking us both again, his grip on me tighter as if trying to hold me together. "Of course I'm going to be worried baby. I have been worried about you. I noticed you've been distancing yourself for a while now, but I didn't want to make you talk when you weren't ready. God, I'm so unmanly, not realizing that you were in so much pain all this time." He placed his hand on top of my head. "I am sooo sorry, baby."

I sniffled, shaking my head. "D-Don't be. I w-was the one who d-decided not to t-tell any of you g-guys. I-it's not your f-fault."

"But why didn't you tell us baby? You know we all would've been here for you."

I shrugged. "I-I just wanted to be s-strong for y-you guys. I d-didn't want to w-worry any of you."

"Oh, babe." He pulled back enough to look at me. "You are strong. But it's okay to lean on us, on mee. Just because you're crying, doesn't make you weak. You're mourning, and its okay to cry when you're mourning. It just shows how close you are with your dad and how much you're missing him."

"But... But it feels like my fault though," I cried.

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed again in confusion.

"I... I was there that night. The night he passed." I wiped at the tears even though it was fruitless with how the tears continued to fall. "We were all happily celebrating my grandma's birthday. We were all laughing. And I went to sleep a bit late that night. I noticed how his was position in his bed when I got up to use the bathroom, but I didnt think any of it. My dad sits in that position sometimes, and I know that he goes to sleep way later than me. And when I woke up at 11 the next morning because of my grandma calling for me, I got up to see what she needed. You remember, that my grandma cant really move around that well anymore?" I asked him.

Kiri nodded his head, remembering that I helped my grandma when the two of us had dinner with my dad and grandma. "So when I got up and headed towards her room, I saw my dad in the same position. But figured he must've just fallen asleep... Then I went to use the bathroom after helping my grandma, and when I looked closer, I noticed how swollen his feet were. I... I knew my dad was always sick and his legs getting swollen all the time, but... I-I just didnt think I'd find him like that." I cried, covering my mouth as another sob wracked threw me. "Vomit... All over the blankets and his bierd... A blood clot hanging from his nose-"

"Shhh, its okay, baby" Kiri hushed me, rubbing my back, "If it's too much for you, you don't have to explain anymore."

After waiting for my breathing to stabilize again, I continued, "I... I just feel like if I had checked up on him before I went to bed... Maybe... Maybe the paramedics would've been able to save him..."

Kiri grabbed onto my shoulders to pull me away so as to look me dead in the eyes with a stern look. "Y/n, listen to me. It is not your fault," he said firmly. "Okay? It is not your fault. Sometimes these things happen."

"But-" I started, but he cut me off.

"No but's. Okay? I know I havent known him as long as you, but I could tell from the first time I met him that he was soo proud of you. And probably still is." His words made me cry harder, my bottom lip trembling again as I tried to pull myself together in front of this amazing man in front of me. "There's no need to beat yourself up over this," Kiri said, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I started bawling my eyes out again. Kiri started rocking us again, holding me tight as I let out all my sadness and anguish.

"Shhhh... It's okay... Everything's will be okay..." He mumbled in my ear. "Let it all out."

We stayed like that for the next hour as I let out all my suffering, the scent of his cologne, the comforting words, and the sound of the music track all lulling me to sleep, my mind and body too heavy to fight it off.

~~~

I woke up to a dark room, the sun long gone over the horizon. I blearily blinked my eyes open, feeling my tears dried over the skin of my cheeks. All of a sudden, a warm hand slides under my shirt, rubbing a thumb on my stomach. A face was then buried into the back of my neck, a soft pair of lips kissing at the skin.

"Morning beautiful/handsome," came Kiri's sleep filled voice

"Mmnn what time is it?" I mumbled.

Kiri pulled away for a moment, turning to reach behind him for presumably his phone on my nightstand. Squinting at the glare of the phone, Kiri gave me an answer, "7 o'clock at night, so its just about dinner time." Dropping his phone back onto the nightstand, he resumed his position of spooning me, completely dwarfing my body with his giant frame. "You haven't ate lunch right?"

I shook my head. "Or breakfast. Or dinner last night. Or any meals for the past few days."

"What?" Kiri shot up, glaring down at me. "And the time before that?"

I shrugged, my brain too drained to think of a solid answer. "Couple days."

"Y/n!"

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be skipping my meals everyday. I should eat at least once a day."

"Is that why you look thinner? Cause you've been skipping your meals??!"

I shrug at him. "I was busy studying for the midterms. Besides I never went 3 days without eating something."

"That's not the point!" Kiri rubbed his hand down his face before looking at me with worry. "You shouldn't be skipping any meals or overworking yourself like this." He reached over to brush a lock of hair away. "Babe, my heart hurts at the thought of you not taking care of yourself."

I place my hand on top of his, leaning into his touch. "I know... I'm sorry. I didnt mean to worry you like this. I just... couldn't come to terms with reality so I busied myself to make me forget the pain. On the bright side I came up with this new, awesome ultimate move I've been dying to show you," I said with some excitement, trying to cheer him up.

He scowled sternly at me for a moment before sighing, shaking his head, any trace of worry and frustration gone from his face as a small smile took over his lips. "Alright fine." But then the stern look came back as he firmly told me, "But I'm not letting you skip any meals anymore, even if I have to force you to eat. And you're not doing no studying or training this weekend."

"Wait, but-" I tried to counter, stopped when the stern look in his eyes intensified.

"No if's, and's or but's. Unless its yours up in the air as I fuck you so hard you wont be able to do anything this weekend but relax."

I blushed and swallowed loudly. "Good, now wait here while I go get you a plate. Bakugou's supposed to be cooking tonight." He leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. Then another. Then another and another before pulling away only slightly to look into my eyes with that familiar dark look in his eyes, a smirk forming on his handsome face. "Maybe I should grab you two plates. You're going to need it for fuel for tonight."

My faced burned as I realized what he meant. He chuckled darkly before standing up and walking towards the door. "I'll be back in a few. And you better be stripped down to nothing by the time I get back." Turning back towards me with a seductive look. "Don't you worry about a thing, baby girl/boy. Daddy's going to take real good care of you this weekend." Then he opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

I gulped loudly, already feeling that familiar heat down below.

It was going to a long weekend.

[give-jack-a-lightsaber]

Cool... Bruises? (Chicago Fire)

A/N: I’m back baby (?) I had this idea a few weeks ago but last night a saw it in my notes and started writing it! Just like that... I wish that could happen to me with college stuff but nope. Anyway, I tried a new way of writing that involved not using “Y/N” and making it gender neutral! It was a hard but gratifying experience, I hope you like it!

Word count: 1546 

Firehouse 51. You have been here for a month and a half and saying that it was the greatest house you ever worked in was the smallest compliment you could think of. This was your third, and hopefully last, firehouse in your ten years of being a firefighter.

 Why a firefighter? It didn't run in the family, you weren't saved by one of them, you didn't get excited by the adrenaline of the dangers that came with... No, none of that. You just lived your whole childhood in front of a firehouse and seeing them run to the trucks whenever the alarm sounded, with rain, snow or in the middle of a heatwave, to help a complete stranger who needed it was all it took for you to know that when you grew up you wanted to love your job as much as them and if in the same time you could be helping someone, better. So when you graduated from high school, you went straight to the fire academy and you loved it.

 Now 10 years later you still loved the job with all your heart and the schedule helped with your second job that it was as gratifying as the first one: a tattoo artist.

 You loved drawing your whole life, which is why your friends and family were kinda surprised that you didn't follow an art or design type of career. But nowadays it was as important for you as being a firefighter. It was your way of interacting with complete strangers without the fire or a halligan in the middle, and also an escape for your mind from bad calls or stupid discussions with your colleagues.

________

It was a completely normal Friday... except for it really wasn't. The whole past week, in and out of work, you started to notice that your coworkers (that luckily you can also call your friends) were acting strange towards you. At first not everyone was like this, if you don't remember wrong the first you noticed acting like this was Cruz, but now the whole shift was starting to whisper around you, stared at you worriedly and asking you things like "how are you been lately?" or "everything okay at home?".

 'Maybe they're joking with me because I'm a newbie', you thought, although is kinda strange because you been with them for almost two months... Still, you decided to ignore it but if it did get worse you will intervene.

 After the everyday reunion with the chief all went straight to have breakfast but you needed a quick detour to get your vitamins from your locker. Entering the common room you went straight to get a glass of water, popped your vitamins in your mouth and grabbed a plate for your breakfast.

 "What'd you take?" Herrmann asked beside you.

 "Vicodin. You can all call me Dr. House now" you joked and faked a limp in your way to the table. You knew it was a lame joke but you also knew that Brett and Capp would have laughed at that, so when you looked up from the plate and saw everyone staring at you with long and saddened faces you couldn't take it anymore.

 "Okay, what is going on with all you?", you asked standing up from the table and moving to the door so you would have a view of everyone, "did I do something to bother you guys?".

 Immediately a chorus of "no", "not your fault", "hey don't blame yourself" invaded the room and surprisedly were cut off by chief Boden.

 "You did nothing wrong kid, but it has come to my attention that some of your coworkers are worried about your well-being, and I know you still feel like the new face here and maybe you can't open up to us yet, but we are here for you when you are ready" he said looking at you with kind eyes.

 "Uh" you stared at everyone for a few seconds, searching for words to describe  how you felt right now. "I don't want to be disrespectful to you chief or anyone but... What the hell are you talking about?".

 "Come on, Cruz saw them when you were changing in the locker room" chastised Severide while frowning at you.

 "Saw what?" you questioned, getting confused more and more.

 "The bruises!" Joe yelped, "I saw a big ass bruise in your left leg. You can stop lying now".

 "Bruises? Wha-" that's when you realized what was this about. Oh boy... "It's not a bruise-".

 "Nah don't come at me with this crap" Herrmann halt you, "you didn't fall nor got hit by anything in the lasts two weeks and Cruz said those looked like a big deal so start talking".

 "Hey you don't go threatening people who need help" snapped Brett at the grey haired man.

 "Sylvie is right, is a sensitive matter that needs sensitive-" stated Casey before being cut off by the comments of everyone present in the room.

 "Guys, really is not what you think of" you protested but by now the discussion of treating the "problem" with a delicate or hard hand was swallowing your voice completely.

 Then a crazy idea came to you and you thought 'what the hell, this is already out of my control'. You felt through your uniform pants and silently cheered and thanked your past you for putting your biker shorts underneath.

 Big inhale and...

 "HEY!!" you shouted with all your lung capacity, that thankfully managed to get everyone quiet.

 "It's not a bruise and-" you started but stopped to send a threatening look towards Mouch who was about to interrupt, "AND I can prove it". Finished that sentence you started to unbuckle your belt even if you could feel their eyes, many many eyes, on you.

 "What are you..." Stella trailed off with a confused chuckle.

 "I am not bruised" you stated just before pulling your pants downand waiting quietly for the reactions. Every single one was amazing to see, the pants down technique was totally worth it.

 "Goddammit Joe you don't know the difference between a bruise and a tattoo?!" roared Herrmann looking at the firefighter in question.

 "H-how am I supposed to know?!! Literally the whole leg is tattooed and I just saw a glimpse of it in the locker room!" Joe excused himself while pointing at your leg.

 "You can put your pants back on" sighed the Chief and left the room.

___________

 "Those are some nice tattoos" commented Matt, now all sit down eating breakfast.

 "Thank you, I designed all myself but just tattooed the parts in my leg. The thigh section was done by a colleague" you beamed at him. "I'm really proud of it".

 "Wait, are you a tattoo artist? That is so cool" marveled Brett. "For how long? Do you work of it?".

 "Well I started when I got out of the academy, so around 10 years. And yes, a friend and I have a little tattoo shop in Little Village" you informed them.

 "How come we never knew about this? You been here for a month and a half!" Stella sputtered while shaking her head.

 "When I came here you guys where dealing with a wannabe commissioner. I guess being under a microscope didn't leave us much time to socialize and when the situation passed we had lived together some things that made us become closer, even if we didn't know each other fully" you expressed. "Like for real, I never thought that a firehouse family could be this strong and attentive of your own, but today's misunderstanding was the cherry on the top. You truly are amazing ".

_________

 A few calls through the day went past and before they noticed the shift had ended and they were going straight to Molly's to share with their fellow first responders the now top 1 story from firehouse 51: you minus pants.

 You were thrilled. Yeah.

 "Yes, keep laughing. At least I'm going to be a famous legend in the 51" you rolled your eyes at the people in the table, them being Brett, Kidd, Severide and 21st precinct boys Jay Halstead, Kevin Atwater and Adam Ruzek.

 "For pulling your pants down?" asked Atwater chuckling with his partners, receiving a middle finger from your part.

 "Hey, can we get discounts in your tattoo house now or do I have to arrest you for exhibitionism?" Jay asked you.

 "What, you want a tattoo of Captain America's ass, soldier boy?" you smirked at him, "and if you don't stop laughing I'll charge you with a 10% plus".

 "Copy that", they laughed and keep joking around for about an hour before you stood up.

 "Okay ladies and gents, is time for me to go, I have an early client tomorrow" you stated while stretching your arms. "Talk to you later, bye".

  A chorus of soft "bye" and "good night" were heard, but when you were going towards the front door a booming voice broke through.

 "Hey, I didn't get to see that famous tattoo, could you do that pant trick here?" Adam yelled, trying poorly to hide a smile.

 You froze for a second, slowly turned to him with a smirk in your face and in your cockiest voice ever you answered him.

 "You wish".

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

do you want more of this? isn't it glorious?

summary: requested: Imagine the victory sex after Andy wins a case. It’s a mix between the softest and most harried sex you’ve ever had, bc he’s so excited but he also wants to slow things down and just revel in the moment. also he feels guilty about working so late all the time and ignoring you for this case, so he of course has to make it up to you somehow

warnings: just smut. a lotta smut. pretty vanilla smut tho. it’s cute smut.

word count: around 5,000

pairing: andy barber  x reader

a/n: so okay, if you’re upset with me that i haven’t been writing. i am guilty, definitely, but the real culprit is this story! (okay, it was technically me for being an idiot and editing a post ON tumblr instead of the word doc, but) i just got really attached to this writing and when i lost some of it, it was actually really sad and i could not make myself finish this request until literally two days ago even though i started working on it at the start of june. and plus also, i really am about to have to find a new song, running out of lyrics l o l

Andy wasn’t anything close to optimistic when he left that morning. He was exhausted because he’d crawled into bed at three in the morning. He was scattered, his keys in his office, his phone upstairs and uncharged, the files he’d been looking at the entire night either in the kitchen, living room, or his office. He was nervous, something you only knew because he asked you to tie his tie.

But Andy wasn’t some overly emotional man who needed your support to win a case. He relied on himself first, you second—and that was okay, that was what you signed up for. Andy loved taking care of you and there were some lines that that meant you weren’t able to cross.

You wanted to tell him that you knew he would do the best he could, you wanted to claim that that was all that mattered. It was bigger, though. It wasn’t him that had failed, it wasn’t even the evidence or the police. It was about politics, he had explained when you asked a few days prior. It was about a case that he had known was always going to be a long shot at best, and well, impossible otherwise.

So, you simply knotted the tie, smoothed your hand down it, and told him you loved him in gray. He scoffed. How could you not be tired of seeing him in gray at this point? Instead of giving him an answer that would make him blush, you kissed him.

He asked you about work and you told him it was just another day. Actually, you would be skipping work, not much to do anyway, and you knew that this case was important. You didn’t want to chance getting caught up in anything and making it home after him. You wished him luck on his way out and he kissed the top of your head and thanked you.

Nothing major, of course. Because he didn’t want you to know that he was worried about this. When you were just dating Andy, picking up on these signs was almost impossible. As soon as you were living together, he was completely and unintentionally transparent.

Sometimes, he would come home and it felt like he had a raincloud with him. Sometimes, he would just lay with you, hold you in his arms for hours, just wanting to hear you talk. Sometimes, he was too disappointed in himself and holed up in his office until you forced him out.

Other times, he was sunshine and full of happiness and pride. He would hold you all the same, but he would kiss you and tell you how much he loved you. He would want to celebrate, go out for dinner, plan a small vacation. You loved him always, wholly, but when he won, that was when you were happiest.

As mentioned, there wasn’t much you could do. Andy was big on little gestures. He didn’t need you to be some cheerleader waiting at his side and telling him that he was doing everything right. He needed to do this alone, win or lose on his own, and then come to you with the results. He wasn’t too keen on letting you be involved in the cases anyway, he didn’t want you worrying or hearing about those terrible details that had made him cancel the newspaper a long time ago.

So, it was a Friday, and if he lost or won, that meant that you would have the rest of the day, Saturday, and Sunday to react to it. You guys could stay home and eat terrible food, watch movies, and just be with one another. He’d told you several times that being with you was the only thing that could make him feel better after a loss.

You were baking cookies, his favorite. Oatmeal chocolate chip. You didn’t bake much, and cooking was fairly equal, so this was definitely a “special occasion” type of thing. He’d informed you of this preference on your first date. Then explained that if he had one chance to go back in time, it would be used to find the person who thought up oatmeal raisin cookies and help imprison them for the rest of their life.

It was one of those moments that you realized you would be just as crazy to let him go as you would be to keep him. If only because you knew you were going to fall so deeply in love with him. Clearly, you were right since your third anniversary was approaching.

It was four when he got home and you rushed out of the kitchen. Early. Too early. That normally wasn’t a good sign. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning. When he looked at you, you were even more confused. There was something in his eyes, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen it.

You set your oven mitt on the counter. “Baby?”

He walked up to you, just watching. His eyes never left yours as he tossed his jacket onto the floor, loosened his tie, then unbuttoned the sleeves of his button-up.

“Andy?”

He took your shoulders, turning you away from him. “The wall, walk to it.”

“What?”

He kissed the top of your head, then whispered, “Come on, baby, be a good girl and do as I say.”

You turned up to him curiously. It was one of those days, you were not allowed to argue. You would say yes, and he would make it worth your while. Currently, he was trying to call your bluff, he wanted you to say no almost as much as he wanted you to just say yes.

Andy liked it when you fought a little. Sometimes. To an extent. But never when he lost, and you were too scared of that possibility. Maybe the trial was extended and the stress was getting to him. He could use you for the relief, it was one of the most flattering compliments you’d ever received. Besides, he offered you the same when you had a rough day at work.

You looked forward and made your way to the wall. Was it wrong that you were already wet? There was something about Andy. Something irresistible when he spoke to you this way, when he was in one of these moods. Something so sexy when he let you have no room to breathe, to compromise, to pull away from him at all. You were his completely and he was reminding you.

“Take your shirt off.”

You did so, attempting to hide that you were shaking. You weren’t scared, but the things you were anticipating were terrible. The way you wanted him to fuck you until you were incapable of thinking or speaking.

“Touch yourself?”

Your hands immediately went to your breasts, uncaring of how cold your skin was. Your wedding ring, especially, something that never failed to make you smile whenever it brushed your skin. You pulled on your nipples hard, letting your head fall back as you moaned.

It was a few minutes of nothing but the whimpers that came from you, before he said, “Your shorts.”

Again, you obliged. Only, this time you did so with less haste because you weren’t wearing any underwear. You expected sex, that was always a given regardless of win or loss, but you hadn’t thought it would work out so perfectly.

You hadn’t heard him move closer so when he grabbed your ass, you startled. You reached back for him, but he took your wrists in his hands and set them back to your sides.

“Keep them there. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, okay?”

“I know,” you promised. “I always know.”

“I know sometimes I don’t take care of you like I should…I get lost in a case because I believe that’s the only way I will win. But I want you to know that nothing is more important to me than you. I could win a million cases, but it doesn’t mean a thing if I can’t come home to you after every single one.”

“Andy, there’s never been a second that I’ve ever doubted it. And I love you. You know that? I don’t care about the cases, I don’t care that sometimes you come to bed late or sometimes you’re distracted, you’re the best man I know and you’re just trying to help people.”

“I know you do, baby.” His arms wrapped around your waist and he set his chin to your shoulder. “I was thinking about you the entire time today.”

You smiled. “What were you thinking?”

“How badly I wanted to be inside you.”

“Because last night wasn’t enough?” It had to be quick, it had to be a lot of things. It wasn’t disappointing, he never was, but it seemed like it only left both of you wanting so much more. Sometimes, you had to wonder if he did that as encouragement to speed up whatever he was doing.

“I will never get enough of you, my love. You know, I have this awful fantasy… Wanna hear about it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s whenever I feel like I’m losing…like I’ve just made a mistake, and all I want is you laid out on the table before me. I want to watch you fuck your fingers until you can’t move, until you’re shaking and crying, begging me to get you off because you can’t do it anymore.”

“You want them all to watch?” you wondered.

“Yeah, maybe… Maybe I want them to hear the way you scream my name, the way you beg me to fuck you harder, when you ask me to choke you. I want them to see how wet I can get your pussy without even touching it.”

“Then what?”

“Then I want to fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you.”

You sighed longingly. That was your favorite part of Saturday mornings. Most of them were spent fucking and he loved coming inside you, loved making you stand up so he could see it trail down your thighs, or getting you down to your knees so he could see it on the floor after he finished in your mouth.

“Like the sound of that?”

You nodded.

“Then I’ll make you clean it off the table with your tongue.”

You tried not to blush, clearing your throat quietly. “The end?”

“Of that one,” he confirmed.

You turned up to him, a pleading look on your face. Andy rarely ever told you about the weird shit he thought of. It was always a relaxed progression and sometimes, you felt like he was holding back.

He smirked. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll tell you some more.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised.

“I know,” he assured. “You always are.”

You nodded. “Always.”

“Okay, ‘always’ was an exaggeration,” he scoffed.

“No, always.”

He kissed the pout off your face and took your chin in his hand to face you forward again. His palm trailed up your cheekbone and into your hair. As he pressed you into the wall, he angled your face so that your cheek was pinned there.

You shuddered when you felt the first smack across your ass. It was very light, more noise than anything else, but it was enough for you.

“This is another one,” he informed. “The idea of people watching you get so needy to be spanked. The things you say, the way your body moves because you need it so bad, how you cry because you want more. I want to bend you over that table and spank you for hours until your entire ass is red.”

You made a small pleading noise, pressing your hips back more. He understood immediately and repeated the hit on the opposite side. “Andy,” you whimpered. “Please.”

You weren’t sure what you were asking for. You needed relief, you needed an answer. You had to know if he won or lost because you needed to act accordingly. You figured him not telling you in a straightforward way was just another way of either regaining or maintaining control.

You reached back without his permission, which you knew was pushing it, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your hands found the button of his pants and you indelicately tore them open. You pressed your palm up and down the length of his cock.

It took him a moment to recover but he swatted your hands away and yanked his pants down. His hands closed around your upper arms and he pulled them back, propping your chest up as he used his own body to press you completely into the wall. It was cold enough that you tried to squirm away, but he gave you no room to move.

“Andy,” you whimpered. “Please, I need you inside me.”

He slipped his arm between both of yours and your back, you couldn’t move and that was exactly what he wanted. He used his other hand to tease you with the head of his cock. He slid up and down your soaking cunt several times and when he finally pressed in, even though it was just a little, you shuddered.

“Ask for it, baby.”

“Please,” you choked out. “Please, please fuck me. Andy, please, I need you.”

He pushed in the rest of the way and you both moaned. It was humiliating how badly you needed this. Though, last night was different. He was stressed, you spent most of the time on his lap until he couldn’t take not being in control anymore and threw you down on the coffee table.

He let you adjust around him, all the while kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck. When you turned your head back slightly, he kissed your cheek and nudged your attention back to the wall with his nose. He placed one hand on the wall for some balance, set his chin on your shoulder, and slowly pulled out.

You let your forehead rest against the wall. “Fuck, Andy.”

His hips bucked forward and yours slammed into the wall. Perhaps this was potentially dangerous, perhaps not the best investment for your hips in the far future, but fuck, this was too good to suggest that he be gentler. Last thing you wanted.

As he found a steady pace, pulling out almost completely, and pushing back in as deep as he could, you couldn’t stop moaning. He had found that spot inside you and didn’t shy away from it. There would be no teasing tonight, just him fucking you until you couldn’t stand.

His hand on the wall slid down, catching your attention. You were sure he was about to reach for your neck, but instead, he placed it over your mouth to stifle your screams.

“I want them all to hear this, too,” he muttered in your ear. “How absolutely wet your pussy is for my cock.” You had never heard anything more obscene than when he would thrust back in, to the point where his body was flush against yours, the wet sound echoed and your cheeks burned but Andy truly seemed to love it. “And this sound,” he pulled his hips back at an agonizingly slow pace, “when your pussy is desperately trying to lock me inside because you know there’s no better feeling than my cock.”

You felt as though you currently had no control over your body. It always did what it pleased in reaction to Andy, but when he decided to take advantage of the desire you felt for him, that was enough to make even you blush. It wasn’t like being married to Andy left any room for modesty or even tradition. He was a creative and demanding man who wanted to explore you in every way he could imagine.

He kept you as quiet as he could, all while grunting in your ear. Normally, you were much louder than him and you could barely hear the sounds he made, now it was all you could hear. And you had been under the impression you couldn’t get wetter, but those deep sounds that you felt from his chest where he was pressed against you and his hot breath against your skin did something to you that you couldn’t explain.

He chanted your name when he was close and it was enough to give you a completely numbing orgasm. You knew Andy loved you, but sometimes you got so lost in your own pleasure that you weren’t sure where he stood. Andy had the complex job of reassuring you that he physically wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, he didn’t seem to mind having to do so. Actually, it seemed he enjoyed the creativity that was required.

You were shaking as he continued to pound into you at this agonizingly slow pace. He was never slow because he simply couldn’t make himself hold back, but that was no longer the case. You felt the tension in his body, you could feel his muscles moving, struggling to hold onto that admirable restraint that first attracted you to him. He let his hand move to your jaw and you instantly began blurting out his name, how much you loved him, how you just needed him to keep going, and pleaded for him to fill you with his cum.

When he did, he pressed his body flat over yours. You paid no mind to how uncomfortable your arms felt trapped between your bodies or how some of your bones were digging into the wall, you simply reveled in the feeling of him finishing inside you and the moans that poured from his open mouth.

His breaths were short and his chest was moving quickly. He stayed inside you while he was coming down, chin still laid on your shoulder, head now angled to rest against your hair. He continued to hold your arms back and your jaw in his hand, and now his thumb and fingers were moving, rubbing these delicate shapes into your cheeks. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” you echoed. It always gave you butterflies when he requested that. It was so simple, so sweet, so little. But his voice always told you that was all he needed. Andy was not a high maintenance husband, he just wanted to be loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally.

He pulled you from the wall and his hands roamed over every inch of your skin. He started with your hips, working up to your breasts where he grabbed them hard and pinched your nipples. He moved down your stomach to your pussy, spreading you with one hand when his other hand traced a soft, careful circle around your clit.

You rested back against him, sighing. “I love you.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in encouragement. He kept you against him even as he began to walk back from the wall.

“I love you,” you repeated. “I love you.”

He turned you both around, moving toward the table while you continued to say it. It was awkward trying to walk with him still inside you and would have been impossible if not for his impressive length.

You had assumed he was going to bend you over and fuck you. That he would pull your hair, spank you, make you tell him how bad you wanted it. Nope, he wasn’t feeling predictable. It wasn’t like you ever minded Andy’s predictability, he still made your toes curl. In fact, you liked the stability of how he made love to you. You liked that he made the world outside just disappear with his insistence on taking care of you and letting you take care of him. However, that didn’t mean you would turn down anything else. You were always humiliatingly eager for whatever Andy wanted you to have.

He pulled out and took your arms once more, turning you to face him before he pushed you back onto the table. “Lie down.”

You were careful as you obliged, trying to keep the cum from dripping out of you. You gasped when he took your waist and yanked you down to the edge of the table.

He angled your hips up and you set your calves on top of his shoulders. He pushed in and then pulled out inch by inch, watching the entire time. His cock was covered in cum that he would have much preferred to see on you, so he took himself in his hand and spread what he could over your pussy and your thighs.

“Andy,” you said quietly.

His eyes flit up for a moment before his hand pressed down between your legs and his gaze followed.

“Andrew,” you huffed.

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “Y/N?”

“What happened? With the case?” After what he just did, you would spend the rest of the night on your knees with your mouth around him if he wanted it. Normally, when he lost, he did.

“Number one rule, baby. We don’t talk about work here.”

“The table?”

“Well, we said the bedroom—”

“You said the bedroom—”

“But I’m fucking you here, so it still counts.” Before you could protest, he leaned over and kissed the center of your stomach.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond verbally, he merely kissed up the middle of your torso, between your breasts before veering off to the side. He gently kissed around your nipple, then swiped his tongue over it.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your hand came up to tangle in his hair.

He repeated the same on the opposite breast before trailing up to your mouth. You loved kissing Andy. Sometimes, you would both spend the entire morning in bed just kissing. Hours. Just pressed against each other. Smiling. Laughing. Whispering against the other’s lips. It was also Andy’s favorite recovery activity. The quickest way to get him hard again.

He was resting on his forearm, opposite hand touching your face as his lips moved with yours. His kisses were long and breath-taking, just like the first time he kissed you and how he had been kissing you ever since. Sure, there were the chaste goodbye kisses, the moments when a kiss like this would result in both of you not wanting to separate even if the world was ending so you would have to keep them short and innocent, but most of the time, Andy acted like his job was to pour as much love into every kiss he gave you.

He broke away to touch his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your forehead, your nose. That was always how he liked to end it as he was stroking himself until he was ready to fuck you again.

He stood as he pressed into your asshole, eyes fixed on where your bodies connected.

Your back arched as your arms shot out to grab to the edges of the table. He was slow about it, you would even say cruel. He watched you with unconcealed smugness, a truly animalistic part of Andy enjoyed how much you enjoyed him fucking your ass. It was the noises you made, the tears that would fill your eyes because it was so good, the way you would press your body back further, wordlessly pleading for more. When he wouldn’t give in, you became impatient and bratty, and he loved having to put you back in your place.

He wouldn’t do it this time, however. He could tell you were too tired, too focused on him and the case. His hand found your center again where he rubbed your clit with just the tips of his fingers.

You were whimpering, your hips jumped, your legs pulled him in closer where they were still draped over his shoulders, you clawed at the table, possibly left some marks. This was always his goal, to get you so mindless and dependent on the things only he could make you feel, and it was an exhausting process, but you wouldn’t want anything else.

He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to your clit. “Don’t stop unless I tell you to.”

With two fingers pressed flat, you began tracing sloppy circles over your pussy. You didn’t have the muscle control to focus on one small area at this point, but you caught your clit enough times to get yourself close.

He leaned over you, hands pressing down on either side of you as his hips picked up speed. His eyes were locked on yours, desperate to see that overly loving look you gave him every time he made you orgasm.

You let your legs fall from his shoulders, wrapping them around his torso. He couldn’t be slow anymore or even remotely controlled. His hands pushed you up the table as he crawled onto it as well. He practically collapsed on top of you, his hips driving into you so hard the table was starting to move just a little.

You pulled your hand away even though he didn’t tell you that you could and grabbed his shoulders. He pressed his body flat against yours so that his pelvis would rub against your clit with every thrust.

It had been so long since you left scratches on his back. He liked them, but you were sure they had to hurt, so you attempted to find other coping mechanisms. But then, it had been so long since he was this uncontrolled, and as your nails dragged down his skin, that only encouraged him.

The table squeaked against the hardwood floor, skin slapped skin, and moans and curses fell from his mouth. You were breathless, a scream caught in your throat while he coaxed you closer to a finish. Anywhere you touched him, you could feel his muscles moving, his back, his ass, his thighs.

He fucked you without his usual concern of possibly being too rough, he simply did not care in that moment. He grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back. He kissed and bit over the parts of your breasts he could reach. His hands moved along your sides, fingers digging into your hips or pressing your thighs up further to open your body even more for him.

When you informed him you were close, he leveled himself to see your face. His brow was furrowed and it was fascinating to see the way the blue of his eyes moved. Not to sound like such a cliché, but it reminded you of waves in the ocean.

“Come on,” he panted, “I want to hear you begging.”

“Please, please, please.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself just a little closer to him. “Please, I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Yeah?” he cooed. “In your ass?”

You nodded frantically. “Please. Please come in my ass.”

His head dropped to the bend of your neck where he bit down rather hard to drown out the sound that followed his orgasm. You didn’t mind even though you knew there would be a mark, even though you knew your coworkers would eye you. No one was surprised anymore, they had this image of your husband as the sex-crazed lawyer, and in reality, were they wrong? Not exactly.

You were just seconds after him, wrapping yourself around him as tight as you could. You sobbed his name and about a million other incoherent things while he kissed around that tender spot that his teeth had just been, whispering how much he loved you and how good you were.

He pulled out and kissed you after you whimpered. He rolled over, lying flat on the table and bringing you up to his side. His fingers brushed through your hair and you both attempted to get your breathing back to normal.

You were silent, reveling in the feeling of his cum slipping from your ass down the back of your thighs. Your skin was sticky and you were sweating, your hair was sticking to your forehead and your back. You couldn’t have looked beautiful, but Andy still kissed the top of your head and claimed otherwise.

You turned your head up to him after you had both settled. “Did you lose?”

He scoffed. “You have such faith in me.”

“You’re the only person I have faith in. The jury? Well, any time you lose, they’re morons.”

He smiled. “I guess they were smart this time.”

You lifted yourself onto your forearms. “You won? Baby, you should have told me! I baked a billion cookies, but…we should celebrate! I can make a reservation, we could go—”

He took a handful of your hair and pulled your mouth against his for a slow kiss. He was the one who broke away, just to see that dumb look on your face whenever he surprised you with a kiss. “We did just celebrate.”

“No, I want to do something special for you.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I have a few ideas.”

You realized exactly where his mind was going, the last place you had suspected. Really, you should know better by now. “What other boxes do you want to check? You’ve tied me up. You’ve bent me over a Paris balcony. You’ve fucked me everywhere in this house. You’ve fucked me in the car. My childhood bedroom in my parent’s house.”

“I have a long list of all the things I still want to do to you.”

“So, tell me what you want.”

He leaned up and kissed your nose. “Let’s clean up and order some food, I’ll think about it.”

You rolled your eyes as you watched him get off the table. “And was ‘list’, like, a figure of speech? Or do you have a physical list?”

He hesitated a moment before glancing back at you.

It was totally an existing list that he had hidden somewhere and suddenly, you wanted it more than anything else in the world. “I will burn this house to the ground if that’s what I need to do to find that list, Andrew.”

He snorted. “Well, good luck because you will never find it.”

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 5

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 5 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 4 / Part 6

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing

Historical Inaccuracies:

I have no idea whether Deacy and/or anyone else of the Queen entourage ever frequented or even visited The Speakeasy Club (also known as the Speak) in Oxford Circus, but the place was popular amongst the likes of David Bowie and Jimi Hendrix. The history of the place is incredibly fascinating, though, so let me know if you’d like some resources to learn more about it!!

Word Count: 3k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Despite the fact that the universe seemed rather intent on having you and Brian repeatedly encounter one another in random places, you didn’t see him again until the arranged Thursday.

You found yourself missing talking of stars and actually having someone understand what it was you were saying, and you missed silly banter.

You were not the only one missing a curly-haired astrophysics major, however, because Freddie, John, and Roger embodied being only three-quarters-full without Brian. There was no one to mother them, no one to shout the loudest in the apparently frequent arguments of the Queen family, no one to tease for an absurd attachment to a red guitar.

The week and four days about to pass would seem to you a very vast expanse of time to be without someone, especially when that someone had been a regular presence in your life for the past three days.

But for now, only a week and two days had passed. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday again; it was now Tuesday night once more.

“He’s gone for a week and the world stops turning,” sighed Roger, tapping a sparkly-shoe adorned foot to the corner of the carpet beneath Deacy and Veronica’s dining table.

“A week and two days,” you corrected Roger.

“Hm, you’re starting to sound rather in love with him, darling,” Freddie clucked his tongue at Roger, who scowled.

“Yes, do be quiet, Roger,” John put in. “I can hardly think here, and writing songs is difficult enough for me as it is.” He scratched at his head with the tip of his pen.

“Yes, if ‘Misfire’ was any indication,” grumbled Roger.

“Roger!” you and Freddie cried in unison. Deacy just looked affronted.

“You know how sensitive he is about his song writing,” Freddie berated Roger.

You were sitting next to Deacy, across from the other two, and wrapped him in a hug. You could see that he’d already gotten over Roger’s remark, because while it had held a grain of truth concerning Deacy’s lack of confidence, it had not held any real malice. You hugged John all the same, and he cuddled you back, pouting in Roger’s direction. Deacy was simply precious by nature, so no one could resist babying him just a little. But Roger was in a bad mood. For the time being, it appeared he had taken up Brian’s torch.

“We could easily have made room for another song on the album if we hadn’t had to have that on there,” Roger said.

Freddie immediately cuffed him on the back of the head. “Roger, really, enough!”

“Hey!” Roger batted at Freddie and a small cat fight ensued.

You patted John’s soft head of hair. “How are you today?” you asked him, as though Roger and Freddie were not tooth and claw before you.

Deacy smiled. “Quite alright, you know, quite alright. How are you, Y/N, dear?”

You sighed. “Forever tired and worrying about things I shouldn’t, but holding up well nonetheless.”

Deacy chuckled. “Worry-wart,” he jabbed your side and you finally jerked away from him.

“Oi!”

“At least you forgot your worries, just then,” he said.

“Fair enough,” you acquiesced.

“NOT MY HAIR!” Roger vaulted up from his chair and it fell to the ground with a clatter. “Not my hair,” he repeated more quietly, and pointing at Freddie warningly, he seemed rather unhinged.

Freddie leaned back in his own chair and folded his arms, languid as one of his cats. “I didn’t touch your peroxide-green hair, dearie.”

“You tried to,” Roger bit out. “And it’s not green.”

“Not today.”

“Freddie, I swear I’m going to maul you—”

“Okay!” Deacy stood up, raising his hands in the pursuit of peace. “Since Brian’s not here, I’m going to have to be the responsible one. Even though you’re both other than me and I should not be parenting you,” he rolled his eyes.

Freddie and Roger remained unmoving.

“I think we’ve all been cooped up in here for too long, too many rounds of Death Scrabble and whatnot, so I suggest we get out. Maybe do something fun.”

You nodded in agreement with Deacy. “What a good idea. What do you suggest?”

Roger whistled through his teeth. “Not a good idea, Y/N. Never ask what he suggests.”

“Says the bloke who’s lost each and every girlfriend because he talked too much about cars,” you said, and Roger made a face in your direction.  

“I was thinking,” Deacy began.

“Here we go,” said Roger.

“Shut up and sit down,” Freddie pulled Roger down to sit on his knee. Roger stuck his tongue out at Freddie, but shared his chair all the same.

“I was thinking disco!”

“Strangle me with my own jacket,” Roger muttered.

Freddie sniffed, “So long as you don’t try to sell my jacket again.”

“Disco,” you said thoughtfully. “What’s so bad about disco?”

“Nothing at all. Excellent pastime,” Deacy responded.

“Everything,” said Roger at the same time. “Have you ever gone to a disco, Y/N?”

“No,” you replied slowly.

Roger threw up his hands. “There’s the sense.”

Deacy looked at you in something like concern. “We’re five years into this decade and you’ve never been to a disco, Y/N?”

“And you shouldn’t go to one either,” said Roger. Deacy raised an eyebrow at him.

You decided to consult Freddie. “What’s your opinion, Fred?”

Freddie shrugged. “Deacy’s a precious darling whom I love and who could do no wrong.”

Roger faced you with his hands on his hips. “Brian doesn’t like disco.”

You felt laughter bubble up in your throat. “We’re not the same person, Rog.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Where the hell is he, anyway?” you asked the three of them. “I can’t believe he’s called just the once, and only to assure you that he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.”

None of them had any answers. The last you’d seen of Bri was over a week ago, and the last you’d heard of him was when he’d called Freddie over the weekend to apologise for his absence from Queen’s most recent rehearsal.

“At least we know as much,” Freddie sighed.

“Would it have killed him to give me a call?” you said, running your fingers through your hair and feeling generally restless.

“Maybe he tried,” Roger hypothesised. “Maybe that’s why he’s not here now.”

“What?”

“It literally killed him to call you,” Roger sniggered, and Freddie cackled.

“Okay, and now I am going to literally kill both of you,” you stood up.

Poor Deacy was looking quite overwhelmed at this point. In John’s eyes, you might as well have covered your face in warpaint and charged at Freddie and Roger.

“Disco time!” he said, putting a hand on your arm.

You turned to Deacy. “Now?”

“Now.”

“But surely she can’t go dressed like this?” Freddie gestured to your well-worn corduroys and button-up shirt.

“No, Cinderella cannot,” said Deacy. “But I’ll give Veronica a call. She should be going home in just a bit, so she can play fairy-godmother to her.”

“Let’s stop talking about me in third-person,” you said, then stood up. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Anyone else want anything?” You knew your friends’ houses as well as you knew your own, so the offer came naturally.

You received ‘no’s and ‘no thank you’s in response, so you went for your glass of water while the other three remained at the table, staring at a full Scrabble board.

“Freddie,” you heard Roger say through gritted teeth, “I thought you said I was Cinderella.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Ronnie came home on time, as her husband had said she would, and was dragging with her a stubborn-looking Heather. The two of them worked part time at the same corner cafe, and so when Deacy had called the cafe’s phone to see if Ronnie would be finished soon, Ronnie had taken initiative and invited Heather with her.

“She didn’t like it when I said disco,” Ronnie whispered the word as though it were taboo. Sure enough, Heather groaned.

“That’s my girl!” cried Roger, happy to have someone to complain to about the night’s turn of events.

Heather waggled her fingers at you in greeting, then flung her arms around Roger. “Hello babe,” she said, and kissed him.

John reached for Veronica, so Freddie grabbed your arm.

“Quick,” he said, “while they’re distracted, let’s raid Ronnie’s wardrobe!”

You giggled together like school girls and snuck up the stairs before Deacy or Ronnie could stop you.

In the upstairs bedroom, Freddie flung open the wardrobe with all the flair and drama of a film noir actor.

“Ah, what’ve we got…” He began rifling through the contents of the wardrobe. You watched over his shoulder.

“Where’s Mary, anyway?” you asked him conversationally, leaning against a bedpost. But at the mention of Mary, Freddie went rigid. “Freddie? Is everything okay?”

Just then, Veronica entered the room.

Freddie glanced at Ronnie, then smiled at you, albeit uneasily. “Everything’s just rosy,” he said. “Now, I’ll let you two ladies decide the outfit, so long as I get to do the make up, yes?”

He slipped out of the room without waiting for an answer, in an unusual hurry.

You and Veronica exchanged a glance.

“Odd,” she said.

“I’ll talk to him later.”

“Or else I’ll get John to. Freddie, like most people, can’t resist my husband’s charms,” Veronica winked at you. “Now, what can we get you, from my admittedly humbly-sized selection…”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Half an hour later, having taken the tube to Oxford Circus, the six of you stepped into the bright lights of The Speakeasy Club.

Before you went inside, you glanced up at the sky, because you had remembered that there was a full moon tonight. You spotted the moon easily, dazzlingly bright in her ephemerally whole beauty, round as infinity and promising more.

Heather had to tug you away. You could’ve stood on by the kerbside forever, entranced by the world above you.

John led you all down the stairs of 48 Margaret Street and into its basement, where the club was situated. Despite its modest location, music pounded heavily from the Speak, and everything was awash with light, light in every colour imaginable.

Everyone inside of the club was as colourful as the lights, the hues of skin and hair and lips and eyes dying away to be replaced with rainbows and sparkles.

Deacy turned around, and in spite of his reputation for being often smiley, you’d never seen him beam like this before.

He spread his hands, “Isn’t it wonderful?!”

Roger muttered, “Fucking kill me.”

John frowned at Roger. “I never complain when you talk about cars,” he said.

“Well, obviously, I should talk about them more often,” Roger sniffed.

Deacy ignored Roger and took Ronnie’s hand, spinning her around and making her giggle.

“Oh, but I have to agree with Deac,” you told Roger, looking around at the people who smiled as they danced, dressed in glitz and glamour and everything in between. Every person you regarded was equally as radiant as Deacy in this environment, and the energy of the club was thus made infectious. You wondered honestly why Roger hated this— he himself was rather high energy.

“You can forget about your little friendship with Brian,” Roger told you. “This is not his scene.”

“Well, said Freddie, “he’s not here right now, is he, darling? So speak for yourself,”

You shook your head at Roger. “You are having a bad day, Rog. Lighten up a bit,” you ruffled his fluffy blonde hair before he could stop you.

“Yes, come on, Rog,” said Heather, “one dance can’t hurt, can it?”

Roger sighed. “Suppose not.” He glanced at you. “Sorry, that was a bit mean of me, Y/N.”

You let it go. “I like your shoes,” you winked.

Roger pointed his toes in his sparkly pink shoe. “I do have quite the fashion sense.” He scampered away with Heather who was pulling him onto the dance floor.

Deacy and Ronnie followed after them, and in your platform heels and curled hair and sequined boots, you stood at a bit of a loss, until Freddie nudged your shoulder.

“We’re here to dance, darling!”

You smiled and let Freddie lead you out onto the dance floor.

After about twenty minutes of dancing, you were beginning to have fun, to forget yourself a little while, to forget to miss the presence of Brian May.

Roger and Heather spun wildly, tapping toes and dancing basically attached at the hip.

Deacy and Ronnie were more family-friendly in public company, and had shown you a few moves. Deacy was in his element, and unlike Roger, his dancing was tight and controlled. It was obvious that he danced not to be seen, but for the wealth of his soul. He loved to dance, and his wife did too, and it was clear that their love was made in heaven.

Freddie however, did dance to be seen. Which was peculiar, really, given he was already going out with the classy Miss Mary Austin. But his eyes followed other people entirely. And soon enough, he winked at you and disappeared off to dance with some pretty boy.

You’d never pegged Freddie for completely heterosexual, but then again, this was the seventies, and it was hard to tell. Not that you cared who he chose to partner with for romantic encounters, but you were worried. From Brian comforting a crying Freddie on a bathroom floor the other night, to the brawl, to Freddie freezing at the mention of Mary, it was clear that something wasn’t right. And you’d be damned if you let one of your best friends suffer in silence.

You continued to dance alongside the others, but throughout the night, you kept a watchful eye out for Freddie. Thankfully, he never disappeared for more than a couple of minutes at a time, so your nerves relaxed a little.

You’d corner him someday soon and find out what it was that was bothering him. For now, though, you were dancing on your own, wondering if a certain curly-haired guitarist might have wanted to dance with you.

Wondering if he’d gazed up at the full moon in the same way that you had.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The phone rang Wednesday evening, and you hoped it wasn’t your mother calling.

She worried even more than you did, and though it didn’t greatly show, you could see it, in the twitch of her mouth, in her fingers that tapped an armrest or tabletop, hear it in the way her pauses became more frequent between sentences, hesitations hovering like bumblebees.

You couldn’t face her right now, because she’d ask if you were okay, if you were managing your stress, and presently, you were growing increasingly concerned about the whereabouts and well-being of Brian Harold May.

You really hoped it wasn’t your mother calling.

“Hello, Y/N Andrews speaking.”

“Brian May,” said a tired voice on the other end of the line.

You hurtled forward, gripping the phone with both hands.

“Bri!”

You could almost see his soft smile. “Hi, Y/N.”

You sputtered, “But where have you been? Where are you? Is everything okay?”

There was a sigh and another noise that sounded like Brian shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “How many times must you ask before you realise that I can’t give you the answer you want?”

There was no bite to his tone, just a rawness that suggested he didn’t want to worry you by not telling you what was going on, but also thought that details would weigh you down with problems that shouldn’t be yours. You understood the nature of his tone so well because it was one you were guilty of on a regular basis.

“I’m just worried about my friend,” you responded quietly. You didn’t want to pressure him, but nor did you want him to feel that he was alone in the world with his troubles.

Another sigh. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”

“What’ve I said about apologising, Brimi,” you muttered. “Why are you calling me?” You meant why was he calling you now specifically, though you also wondered why he was calling you. As far as you were aware, he hadn’t contacted Freddie again, and he hadn’t spoken to Roger or John at all.

“To tell you that I’ll be there tomorrow night.”

Tomorrow night, Thursday. For guitar lessons and derivation help.

“Brian, surely, if things are so bad that you disappear for a week, you know I’d understand if you didn’t turn up tomorrow.”

“No questions asked?” he said.

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t have to, for there was no doubt in your mind. “No questions asked.”

He laughed that gentle half-laugh of his, the one that expressed a resignation, a sadness, rather than mirth. It shattered you a little bit.

“I did say you were a wonderful friend. But I’ll be there tomorrow. Eight in the evening, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a little dazed. “I live on Camden High Street. The rickety green house behind the Plaza Cinema.”

“I’ll try not to get lost,” he replied, a touch of his usual humour resurfacing. But good god did he sound tired, worn down and worn out. “Tell the others not to worry. I’ll be home soon.” He had the air of a man who had travelled the cosmos in their entirety, walked the sky and the path of the stars for eons, lonely but unafraid.

He breathed quietly, “Good night, Y/N.”

It was odd, you thought, how you were always saying good night to each other. Perhaps some kind of magic existed in the night that brought you together.

Oh, but it did exist— the magic was the stars.

“Good night, Bri. Safe travels.”

You put down the phone, and only then did it occur to you: he had not called the others.

He had called you.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: bit of a short one today, m’dears. sorry about that. maybe i’ll have to do a cheeky mid-week update... 🥰

taglist: @melting-obelisks @hgmercury39 @stardust-killer-queen

Masterpost / Part 4 / Part 6

[thecassadilla]

Bump in the Night

Pairing: Kristanna (+ a minor appearance by Elsamaren)

Word Count: 2,988/AO3

Summary: To kick off the start of “spooky season,” Anna plans a scary movie night with Kristoff, but things go awry later that night when their real life begins to imitate conventions of a horror film. 

Author’s Note: Happy October! While I absolutely hate Fall (cold weather + less daylight, yuck), Halloween is my favorite holiday. I planned to write a couple of fics this month to help me “embrace” this season and this is the first. Enjoy!!!

“Are you almost here?”

“I’m pulling up to your house now,” Kristoff chuckled, reversing into the empty spot behind her car.

“Oh, okay! I’ll open the front door!”

Suddenly the line went dead, and he couldn’t help but smile. He cut the engine, grabbed his overnight bag from where it rested on the front seat, and climbed out of the car.

“Hi, sweetie!” Anna called from the doorway.

“Hey, baby,” he called back with a grin.

When he finally made it into the house, she pulled him into a tight embrace before leaning up onto her toes and pressing a soft but brief kiss to his lips. “How are you? How was work?”

“It was crazy busy and I had to stay a little late,which is why I got here so late, but I’m doing a lot better now that I’m here. How about you?”

“Today was great, I’m great. Here, do you want me to bring your bag upstairs?”

“Nah, I’ll just bring it up later,” he answered, sliding the strap off of his shoulder and placing the bag on the bottom step of the staircase. “Just don’t trip over it.”

“I won’t,” she laughed, walking towards the kitchen. “I ordered us a pizza and it should be here any minute.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve picked it up on the way.”

“It’s not a big deal,” she said, turning around to make sure that he was following her. “Elsa is staying at Honeymaren’s this weekend.” 

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. “I see?”

“Do you...maybe wanna have a scary movie night?”

“Uh...sure,” he answered.

Her face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “I just don’t understand the correlation between Elsa being away and us watching a scary movie.”

“Oh!” Anna giggled. “Well, we’ll have the living room to ourselves and we can put on whatever we want without Elsa butting in. I’ve never been able to watch anything scary because she hates horror.”

“I’m not too fond of it, myself,” Kristoff admitted.

“Ooh, is the big, tough guy afraid of scary movies?” she teased, poking her finger into his ribcage.

“No,” he huffed, swatting her hand away. “I’ve watched a whole bunch and to be honest, I think they’re stupid and predictable.”

She opened up one of the cabinets and pulled out two plates. “Well, it’s officially ‘spooky season’ and I think it would be fun.” 

“We can watch whatever you want,” he promised.

“Yay!” she squealed, bouncing up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Did you have a specific movie in mind?” “I found one called The Summoning. It’s basically about a young married couple that moves into a new house, only to find out that the house is haunted by a demon.”

“Sounds exactly like every other horror movie that came out in the last decade or so,” he remarked. 

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“No,” he shrugged. “Just an observation. A lot of old horror movies had masked murderers; Freddy Krueger from A Nightmare on Elm Street, Michael Myers from Halloween, Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13th. Now it’s all about the invisible villain; Paranormal Activity, The Conjuring, and now I guess The Summoning.”

“I’m impressed! You really know your stuff, huh?” she proclaimed enthusiastically, but before he could respond, the doorbell rang. “Ooh pizza’s here!”

“Do you want money?” he offered.

She thrust the plates in his direction and he accepted them. “Nope! It’s on me. The only thing I need you to do is sit your butt on the couch.”

He obeyed her command and made his way to the living room, setting the plates on the coffee table and plopping down in the corner of the couch. A few short moments later she joined him, placing the pizza box next to the plates.

“Help yourself. I’m going to put the movie on,” she stated, grabbing the remote.

He reached over and flipped the lid to the box open. “You want to eat and watch at the same time?” 

“Yeah, I figured we could multitask.”

He shrugged, and handed her a plate with a slice on it and then took one for himself before sitting back. 

“Thanks,” she smiled, leaning into his side and pressing the play button. “I hope it’s good.”

“We shall see.”

The movie opened up to upbeat music, and an attractive young couple moving boxes out of a moving truck and into their new, yet clearly antiquated house. Less than ten minutes in, the tone changed and elements of horror started creeping in.

While Anna was completely engrossed with what was happening, it was abundantly clear to Kristoff that the movie was the opposite of good; between the cheap jump scares, the poor acting, and the lack of any real action, it seemed more like a comedy than a horror movie. Though he tried to focus on what was happening in front of him in order to keep his promise to Anna, he was growing more bored by the second. Eventually it became close to unbearable.

“How about…” he started, pressing a slow, ardent kiss to her neck, “We turn this off and put something else on?”

“No, I want to watch,” she giggled, shying away from his touch. “You promised that we could watch whatever I wanted.”

“I know, but it’s so bad,” he whined.

“It’s half over and it’s not that bad.”

“It’s terrible.”

“Look!” she exclaimed, pointing at the television screen. “The demon just pushed her down the stairs.”

“Demons aren’t real.”

“Please watch it,” she begged.

“I’d rather kiss your neck.”

“You have all night to kiss my neck, and I’m going to hold you to that,” she teased, wiggling away from him. “But the only thing I’m paying attention to for the next forty-five minutes is this movie.”

“Fine,” he huffed, resting his chin on her shoulder. “What about Hocus Pocus? You love that movie.”

She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. “I will only turn this movie off if you admit that you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” he insisted. “I’d actually enjoy it more if it was scaring me.”

“Too bad.”

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

“We should see a horror movie in a theater soon,” she remarked as they laid in bed later that night. “I wonder if there are any good ones coming out this year.”

“I don’t trust your judgment on what a ‘good’ horror movie is,” he chuckled.

“Well, we could always just sit in the back and make out like high schoolers if it’s really bad.”

“We could do that here, for free,” he noted.

“Yeah, but it’s about the thrill of the chase. It’s more exciting when you’re in a room full of people who aren’t paying attention to what you’re doing.”

“You are truly something else. And I love you for that.”

“Aww, I love you too,” she smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Did you really hate the movie?”

“No offense, Anna, but it was beyond bad.”

“Can I just say that I still can’t believe the guy in that movie let his wife become possessed like that?! Newly married, new house, seemingly perfect life and then bam! He chooses to save himself instead of fighting for her.”

“Good thing it’s just a movie,” he reminded her.

“I know, but it’s still so terrible,” she said, shaking her head. “Would you abandon me if a demon was trying to possess me?”

“No, because it literally would not happen.”

“But if it did happen?”

He sighed. “No, I wouldn’t abandon you.”

“Thank you. I wouldn’t abandon you, either.”

“Great, it’s all settled then. Do you think that can be incorporated into our wedding vows?”

She playful swatted his arm. “Can you stop mocking me please?”

“Only when you stop worrying about real people in fictional scenarios.”

She glared at him. “It was a hypothetical question.”

“That I answered honestly,” he added. “I’ll save you from all the bad guys - and if that includes demons or ghosts or werewolves, I still won’t abandon you.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“I’m gonna crash, so…” he leaned over to peck her on the lips. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Within moments, he was asleep, while she found herself tossing and turning. As the clock ticked forward, she tried to convince herself that she wasn’t anxious; every thought that popped into her head was clouded with scariest scenes from the movie. Though her mind was racing, she tried to focus on Kristoff instead, watching as his chest rose and fell with each breath. 

Until she swore that she heard a noise and nearly jumped out of her skin. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, and though Kristoff looked completely at peace, she needed someone to ease her racing mind.

“Kristoff,” she whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. “Kristoff!”

“Huh?” he mumbled, his eyes slowly blinking open.

“I heard a noise,” she responded, her voice slightly louder. “What if someone is in the house?”

“A person or a demon?” he teased.

“Kristoff, I’m not kidding.”

“No one is in the house,” he assured her. “You probably just heard a car door close.”

“It didn’t sound like a car door,” she rebutted.

“I think that movie made you paranoid.”

She rolled her eyes. “Would you please make sure the front door is locked?”

He groaned in response, before scrubbing at his face with the palms of his hands a few times. He tossed the blankets aside and stood up, taking a moment to stretch before shuffling out of the room. 

Anna anxiously awaited his return, wringing her hands over and over again. After what felt like an eternity, he reappeared.

“All the doors are locked,” he announced as he collapsed back onto the bed. “Front door, back door, door to the garage.”

“I feel a lot better now,” Anna breathed. “Thank you for checking.”

He motioned for her to slide closer to him. She laid her head on his chest, and he placed a hand on her shoulder before pressing a kiss to her temple. “Anything to make you feel better. Try to get some sleep.”

She nodded against him, feeling safe in his arms, and after a few moments, she felt her eyelids start to grow heavy. Until a loud crash from downstairs snapped her out of it.

Her eyes widened and she tensed up. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Kristoff answered hesitantly.

As if on cue, another crash sounded from beneath them. They both sprang into action, jumping out of the bed.

“What should we do?”

“Do you have any weapons?”

“No!” Anna exclaimed. “Only the kitchen knives.” “Tomorrow I’m buying you a bat,” Kristoff remarked before charging out of the room. Anna followed swiftly behind him.

“What exactly are you planning on doing?” she whispered as she chased him down the stairs, trying to stay as light on her feet as she could.

“I want to see where the noise came from.”

“And then…?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Maybe we should call the police?” she suggested in a panicked whisper.

“And do what in the meantime? Get killed?”

For a moment, they stood quietly in the dark, and it quickly became apparent that the noises had come from the garage, though the sounds had morphed from crashes to voices. 

Kristoff and Anna slowly crept toward the kitchen. He pulled each knife out of the knife block until he determined which one would be the most effective. Anna, on the other hand, went for the cast iron skillet that was resting on the stovetop.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Throw it?” she shrugged. 

They approached the door to the garage, and Kristoff held out his left arm in an attempt to keep Anna safely behind him. When they finally reached the door, Kristoff slowly reached out for the doorknob, before twisting it and forcefully pushing the door open, immediately resulting in two girlish shrieks from the perpetrators.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kristoff snorted.

“Elsa?!” Anna exclaimed, gently pushing Kristoff’s arm down. “What are you doing?”

It was quite the scene. Elsa and Honeymaren were crouched on the floor of the garage; Elsa was sweeping a pile of dirt into the garbage bag that Honey was holding open. Gardening tools and pieces of broken ceramic were scattered behind them, in addition to the plant that Elsa had mentioned buying the day before. 

Elsa cringed, clearly mortified. “It’s a long story.”

“It’s really not,” Honeymaren corrected, looking rather amused. “She forgot to take out the garbage and it was bothering her. I suggested that she text you, and ask you to take it out, but she wanted to handle it herself. You wanna tell the rest of the story, Elsa?”

Elsa hung her head in shame, understandably embarrassed by the entire situation. “I tripped and knocked over the bin of gardening tools. Then while I was trying to pick them up, I knocked over the plant and the pot shattered.”

“Which is why we’re crouched on the floor, cleaning up dirt,” Honey stated, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “It’s really not a big deal though.”

“Accidents happen,” Anna sympathized. “But you guys kind of scared the crap out of us. We thought someone was breaking in.” 

“So you decided to handle it yourselves?” Elsa asked incredulously, her eyes widening.

“The alternative was calling the police. You could’ve been arrested for breaking into your own house,” Kristoff pointed out.

Honey smirked. “I don’t know what would’ve been worse; going to jail or being stabbed,” she remarked, her eyes bouncing from Kristoff to Anna. “Or whatever you were planning to do with a frying pan.”

“Have you ever picked one of these up?” Anna asked, moving her arm up and down to demonstrate the heftiness of the skillet. “They weigh a ton. One swing of this pan could knock a person unconscious.”

“Good thing neither of you had to use your weapons of choice,” Elsa cringed. “I’m sorry that we scared you.”

“Next time, just let me know if you plan on coming home in the middle of the night to take out garbage,” Anna pleaded with her older sister. “Or, you know, just ask me to do it.”

“Or,” Kristoff interjected, draping his arm around Anna’s shoulders. “Ask me to do it, because someone is too paranoid from the scary movie we watched to go downstairs by herself.”

“Am not!” Anna rebuked, looking up at him. “You’re just...a lot bigger and more intimidating than I am.”

He smiled smugly. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him, before turning back to her sister. “Do you need our help cleaning up?”

Elsa shook her head. “No, I think we got it. You two should go back to sleep.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

The group exchanged goodnights, and Anna and Kristoff returned their weapons back to the kitchen before heading back upstairs. 

“That was, uh...interesting,” Kristoff commented when they finally made it back to the bedroom.

Anna closed the door behind them and climbed back into the bed. “I know, right?! It’s just garbage, it’s not a big deal!”

“Maybe she was worried that she was going to stink up the garage,” he suggested, laying down next to her.

“She could’ve just moved it outside when she got home tomorrow if she didn’t want to bother us,” she countered. “And I bet she’ll never spend another night away again after this. We may be spending weekends with Elsa and Honeymaren from now on unless we stay at your place.”

“I have no issues with that and honestly, I feel like you would do the same if the situation was reversed -  you know, to avoid inconveniencing her.”

“Oh, I totally would. But I’d at least give her a heads up first, so if I made a ton of noise in the middle of the night she wouldn’t think I was a murderer or a burglar. Maybe we should consider getting an alarm installed. Do you think Elsa will go for that?”

“Alarm or no alarm, I’m going to buy you a bat, just in case there’s a ‘next time.’”

“If there’s ever a ‘next time,’ we will call the cops and avoid running into the line of fire,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Ahem.”

“I know it was risky and stupid, but at least your sister and Honeymaren didn’t get hauled away in handcuffs. And I promised I would protect you.”

“From fictional bad guys. And jerks, of course. If that had been a real murderer or robber, we could’ve been killed.”

“You were fine with sending me downstairs when you heard a noise,” he stated.

She scoffed. “That’s different.”

“How is that different?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“It just is.”

He hesitated for a moment, before reaching out and caressing her cheek. “Anna, did that movie scare you?”

“A little,” she confessed. “Obviously I know that it’s just a movie, but I lost control of my imagination. I really did hear a noise and before you say it - no, I didn’t think the noise was a demon.”

“Look, I’m sorry for teasing you,” he sighed. “It was wrong of me, and it probably seemed like I was less than thrilled to make sure the doors were locked but -”

She cut him off mid-sentence. “Kristoff, I woke you up out of a dead sleep because I heard a noise. Cut yourself a little slack here.”

“And I immediately accused you of being paranoid - the point is, I don’t want you to hesitate to wake me up if you hear a noise, okay?”

“Fine,” she agreed. “But as a compromise, I’ll probably be skipping horror movies from now on.”

He smirked. “I have no issues with that.”

“And if you want...we can watch Hocus Pocus tomorrow.”

[softspiderling]

swanky fortune - part eight | t.h.

Summary: of scheming roommates, a good dinner, and a night out with Tom  

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Circles by Post Malone

Author’s Note: I’M SORRY PLS DON’T HATE ME. But the good news is, I’ve already started writing the next part, so.... Per usual, comments and feedback is appreciated and highly demanded. I missed these two dumbasses. ALSO I HAVE 1K followers now??? C R A Z Y!! Thanks to everyone I’m so grateful for you!!! Also I know I did a celebration recently, but if anyone wants another one, lmk!

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing

Word Count: a whooping 4,8k

Masterlist

Teaser | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten

It seemed like life just had one surprise after another in store for you.

Not even your wildest dreams could compete with the scenario that was taking place in front of you. Tom Holland standing in the middle of your kitchen and apparently cooking dinner for you.

“How did you get in my apartment?” You blurted out, before wincing.

“Sorry. I swear I’m really happy to see you.”

Tom gave you an exasperated look before he put down the spatula, leaning against the counter. He looked good. It was obvious to you that the time home was definitely something he had needed. The bags underneath his eyes weren’t completely gone yet, but they definitely were on their way of disappearing. His cheeks were pink, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat from the stove or if he was embarrassed.

“You really need to work on your people skills, Y/N,” he teased and you scoffed lightheartedly, stepping towards him to hug him tightly, inhaling his scent.

Has he always smelt this nice? Or was your judgement clouded by the endorphins your brain was pouring out at the mere sight of him? You weren’t sure.

“‘s good to see you too, love. Told ya I would make it up to you,” he mumbled in your hair, before pulling away, smiling down at you. Overcome with emotion, you turned away and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, while he puttered around the stove.

You watched him move around your kitchen and he looked oddly like he belonged here.

“But seriously, how did you get in my apartment?” You asked, tilting your head as you stood next to him. “I’m seriously questioning my safety right now.”

He laughed and shook his head, stirring the sauce before putting the lid back on the pot. “Your roommate let me in and gave me a key when she left.”

Your eyes widened. “Luisa gave you a key to our apartment?”

“Guess I’m just that trustworthy,” he shrugged with a grin and you rolled your eyes at him. You knew exactly why Luisa let him in and gave him a key on top of that. You also knew that she was probably not going to be back in the apartment until Tom had left. Damn that girl.

“I really need to teach her about stranger danger.”

“Hey!” Tom protested. “If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have been able to cook dinner for you.”

Your playful smile turned into a fond one. God, he was trying really hard to win you over. Ducking your head to hide your face, you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know that right?”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said lightly.

“How are you here anyway?” You asked, deflecting. “I thought you weren’t planning on doing anymore traveling until you have to get back to work.”

“I meant traveling for work. I also said I was looking forward to relax during my time off. And I’m doing that, here with you.” Tom pointed out.

“Did you not want to spend more time with your family?”

“I spent plenty of time with them,” he assured you. “Plus I was constantly talking about you anyway and they got tired of that, so I took the next plane here, I landed this morning. It’s not really a big deal, love.”

It was though. When was the last time someone had put so much work and effort in wanting to spend time with you? Not only did he take a flight to you, apparently he also went grocery shopping and cooked dinner for you.

“It’s a big deal to me Tom,” You said softly, leaning up to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He turned away and you bit back a grin when his face turned pink.

Tom cleared his throat and turned the stove off, drumming with his fingers against the counter.

“So, food?”

After maneuvering the food onto plates that Tom deemed good enough for his pasta, you and him sat across from each other at the dining table.

As you were about to take the first bite, you noticed that he was staring at you more intently than usual.

“You didn’t poison this, did you?” You asked with squinted eyes, carefully inspecting the noodles on your fork and he rolled his eyes, taking a spoonful of pasta, chewing obnoxiously.

“How are you being so melodramatic? I thought I was the actor out of the two of us.”

You grinned at him before finally putting the fork in your mouth, your eyes widening. “Oh my god.”

“It’s good, huh?”

“Good?” you asked, covering your full mouth with your hand. “This is amazing! Where’d you get this recipe?”

“It’s my mum’s. She used to cook this every year for my birthday lunch,” he told you and you smirked, swallowing your food.

“And you looked over her shoulder because you knew you’re going to have to cook it yourself some day?”

He shook his head, twirling the noodles on his fork. You could see the smugness basically oozing off of him and you rolled your eyes, already knowing that some sort of cocky comment was about to leave his mouth.

“I didn’t have to look over her shoulder, because I’m just that good of a cook,” Tom said and you snorted in your plate, barely disguising it as a cough. He narrowed his eyes at you, his fork pointing at you.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you said innocently, smiling sweetly at him which he reciprocated with a flick on your arm. Yelping, you stuck your tongue at him and wagged your fork at him warningly before you returned your attention to your food that was getting colder the longer you were fooling around with Tom.  

After you’ve both finished eating which took longer than usual because you kept picking on each other like little kids, you were standing side by side in the kitchen, him doing the dishes after having insisted on doing them.

“You’re a guest Tom, stop being unreasonable. I’m not going to let you do the dishes!”

“A self-invited guest.”

“A guest nonetheless!”

“Love, I literally made the mess, would you please let me clean it up?”

“You already cooked for me, can’t I pay you back by doing the dishes?”

“No. You can pay me back another way.”

“What way?”

“… Just move over so I can do the dishes, Y/N.”

You snapped the lid on the Tupperware filled with leftover food, placing them in the fridge for Luisa in case she ever came home again. Tom was drying his hands off on a kitchen towel when you turned back to him, raising an eyebrow at him. He returned your look with a raised brow, though his was way more untamed than you hoped yours was.

“So, what are we going to do now?”

“What do you mean ‘What are going to do now’?,” he asked with a snort, crossing his arms over his chest. “I cooked. It’s your job to take care of the entertainment.”

“You’re kidding, right? You literally invited yourself to my place without letting me know beforehand, and now you’re expecting me to entertain you?” you gave him a look and trudge into the living room, Tom hot on your tails with a grin on his face. You threw yourself unceremoniously on the couch and crossed your legs, leaning your chin in your hand.

“I have a few assignments and readings to do over the weekend,” you started and he frowned at you as he joined you on the couch, pursing his lips.

“Are you telling me you won’t have any time for me while I’m here?”

Suddenly he straightened his back and a look of uncertainty passed his face. He fiddled with his hands and you didn’t know what triggered it, but the atmosphere had suddenly shifted.

“Was this a mistake?” Tom wanted to know and red splotches started appearing on his neck. “I should’ve called beforehand, you must be really busy-“

“Tom,” you interrupted him with a small smile, taking his hand to calm him down, only continuing to speak when he looked at you. It was that moment when you realized that he was embarrassed by his actions and admittedly it was a bit straightforward and crazy, but it was still pretty sweet of him. You were also very glad that he took the first step, because if he hadn’t, you’d probably wouldn’t have seen each other in the near future.

“It’s just a few assignments, I’m not super busy,” you told him. “You should get some rest and lay down while I do, you must be really tired after today.”

His eyes went wide and he moved his hands to grasp you by your shoulders. “Wait a minute, you want to do your assignments now?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Friday.”

“I know.”

“Friday evening, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I know, Tom. And?”

“Oh my god, you’re a nerd,” he laughed out, his head dropping as his shoulders shook with the vibrations. Puzzled and offended by his words, you furrowed your brows and shoved his hands off of your own shoulders as he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“You’re a nerd,” you shot back and he wiped his eyes, giving you a thumbs up.

“Solid comeback, love, that hit me real hard.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and frowned at him. “I am not a nerd.”

“You’re willingly doing readings and assignments on Friday evenings, I am pretty sure that’s the definition of nerd,” Tom pointed out, his laughter having subsided but the grin on his face was still wide.

God, he’s such a nuisance.

“I am not doing them willingly, but if I’ll do it now, it’s done and I don’t have to worry about it anymore on Sunday night. It’s called being responsible,” you explained to him, slightly annoyed as he watched you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“That’s exactly what a nerd would say.”

Bristling, you shoved him playfully by the shoulders and got up to grab your laptop and your backpack to pull out your folder that held all your papers. Spreading your worksheets on the coffee table with Tom peering over your shoulders, you started piling the documents on different stacks.

“What do the different colors mean?” He wanted to know as he leaned over your left shoulder, his breath hot on your earlobe. You turned your head slightly and he was curiously eyeing your notes.

It was funny how interested he was in your assignments, considering how routinely they were for you.

“Pink means I need to ask for clarifications, green means it’s relevant for my exam and yellow means what I think is important.”

Tom let out a oooohhhh and tilted his head slightly, leaning forward to get a better look at the different worksheets.

“You don’t mind me doing my assignments now, do you?” You asked, glancing at him. “It’s not going to take long, I promise.”

“It’s fine, I can entertain myself, you do what you gotta do,” he told you and shot you a wink. Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your laptop to pull up the instructions from your professor and do your readings.  

It was actually kind of nice working with Tom around. He was mostly quiet, there was the occasional snort while he laughed quietly about something on his phone, though it didn’t really bother you. You were working on an article about the gender pay gap when you noticed him staring at you.

You hadn’t really noticed him moving around that much, that was why you were so surprised to see him sitting opposite of you, leaning his elbows on the coffee table. One corner of his mouth was curled up, and you knew based on the smirk on his face that he was up to no good. Removing the highlighter cap from between your lips, you turned your full attention on him.

“What?”

The smirk on his face widened and you were slowly getting irritated, narrowing your eyebrows at him when he reached out to gently poke you on the forehead.

“You have a crease right here when you’re trying to concentrate,” he told you and you swatted his hands away, smoothing the crease in your forehead down.

“It’s not there because I’m trying to concentrate, it’s there because I’m annoyed because you’re staring at me.”

“I’ve been watching you for the last five minutes and you haven’t even noticed because you’re so engrossed in your article, so that’s a lie.”

“You know that’s really creepy right?” you asked with a sigh, starting to collect your notes and putting them away.

He shrugged lightly and fixed a stack of papers, handing them to you. “Couldn’t help myself, you looked really cute. And I’ve always had a thing for smart women.”

The blood rushed to your face and you turned away to stuff your folder back into your backpack, avoiding his gaze.

“Shut up,” you mumbled and he laughed, his finger tips dancing along your wrists. Goosebumps started spreading across your arms and your head snapped up to look at him, just to see that he was already watching you.

“How about you make me?” he suggested lightly, a brow ticking up. You flushed even brighter and got up, shoving your hand in his face.

“Get it together, Holland,” you huffed and he laughed at you, craning his head to follow your movements.

It was getting harder and harder to resist him, but you had promised yourself not to let yourself fall this quickly, you were trying to learn from your mistakes. But what if your ex-boyfriend had been the mistake last time, and not your feelings?

What if was a mistake to keep Tom at an arms distance (or at least that was what you were trying to do)? What if he was the right one and by distancing yourself, you were only pushing him away? The sight of his smile made you feel warm and at the same time, your head is telling you to cool it.

“I need a drink,” you muttered and offered Tom a hand to pull him up. He clasped his hand around yours and got up to his feet, nodding at your request.

“I could do drinks,” he said. “But I do need to change, though.”

Stretching your arms, you nodded. “Yeah me too. Uh, did you bring any clothes?”

Tom gave you a look. “No, I came here with the clothes on my body only.”

You grinned and grabbed your backpack, pointing to the bathroom in the hallway. “You can use the bathroom to change if you want to, I’ll just need a couple of minutes and then I’ll be right out.”

“Aye aye captain!” Tom saluted to you and you only shook your head with a snort while you headed to your room. Stuffing your backpack in the corner, you opened your clothes and pursed your lips while browsing through your racks, eventually settling on a red floral blouse, not wanting to change out of your jeans, too.

After having changed into the blouse, you sat in front of your mirror and refreshed your make up, while mentally going through all the bars that were nearby. Tom hadn’t specifically told you, but you were guessing that he wanted to keep a low profile and not draw too much attention, so you scratched off any bars, that were always packed. You had a few casual bars in mind and hoped one of them would work out, but it was Friday night and you’d never know what expected you.

You pouted your lips into the mirror before grabbing your purse on the way out of the living room, where Tom was shrugging his leather jacket on, a hat sitting on top of his head, his outfit looking rather dark.

“Hey,” he said, wearing a sheepish expression when you stepped closer to him. “Do you mind if we-“

Nodding quickly, you gave him a smile. “Yeah, we can do low-key, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” he sighed out, clearly relieved. “I just really need a break right now.”

You waved it off, understanding where he was coming from. “It’s fine, I totally get it. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” He jogged towards the front door and opened it, waving his hand dramatically with a bow. “After you my lady.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” you said teasingly and walked through the door, watching as Tom locked the front door with a pointed look in your direction.

With an eyeroll, you crossed your arms over your chest, letting yourself lean against the wall. “You’re aware that I’m not letting you keep that key, right?”

“Aw why not?”

He stuffed the key into the pocket of his jeans and looked up at you with a pout. You pushed yourself off the wall, an amused grin on your face.

“Because that’s literally the dumbest thing someone could do. I mean, you could rob me, or something,” you trailed off as the two of you walked out of the building.

Tom gave you an indignant look and you chuckled, shrugging unapologetically. “Anything is possible these days, Tom. I’m just trying to protect myself.”

Pushing the door open, you exited the building, the sun’s last beams shone through the trees, painting the sky in a soft orange. You inhaled deeply and quickly fell in step with Tom as you walked on the sidewalk.

“There’s a nice bar a few blocks from here, we can go there by foot if you don’t mind,” you suggested, pointing in the direction you were going.

“Walking is fine. I’ve been sitting on my ass enough today.”

You two settled into a comfortable silence, your arms swinging between you as you walked, your hands occasionally brushing. His pinkie brushed against the side of your palm and you knew that he was carefully testing out the waters. Oddly enough, you were glad that he did, letting his fingers grasping yours slowly, and you glanced at him with pink cheeks.

Tom smiled at you when a group of raucous college students walked towards you.

The moment he had so carefully worked for immediately broke between you and you quickly pulled your hand back, locking your hands nervously as you passed the group, with Tom ducking his head while you balled your hands.

Talk about mood killer.

“This is it,” you told him, gesturing towards the building on the other side of the street.

You crossed the road, passed the people who were having a smoke by the curb and pulled the door open. As you stepped into the bar and looked around you noticed that it was slightly busier than you expected it to be but not as packed as normal bars on a Friday night.

“Is this okay?”

You turned to Tom and same as you, he was scanning the bar before giving you a thumbs up. Looking around for a place to sit, you caught eye of Luisa waving frantically at you.

“Hey stranger, over here!”

With a grin, you nudged Tom and nodded towards where Luisa was sitting before walking to her table with raised eyebrows. Luisa was talking in hushed whispers to the rest of your friends before she turned back to you with a wide smile.

“Look who the cat dragged in,” Luisa teased and you rolled your eyes good-naturedly.

“Oh ha ha, don’t act like I’m never around, I come out plenty.”

“No she doesn’t,” Maisie said to Tom, a shit eating grin on her face, similar to the grin her girlfriend was wearing. “You must be a real good influence on her.”

Tom laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m doing my best. But she actually was doing homework before she agreed to come out with me, so-“

With a glare, you bumped his side with yours.

“Stop or I won’t introduce you to my friends,” you warned him.

He raised his hands in surrender, though the smirk on his face portrayed the complete opposite.

Grinning, you shook your head fondly before you turned to the table. “Alright, so Tom this is Jessica, David, Henry, Max and Maisie, twins, by the way and you’ve already met my lovely roommate Luisa. Everyone, this is Tom. Be nice.”

Tom waved into the round and your friends all gave him friendly smiles. You bet all your money that Luisa had told them to keep their cool before you approached their table.

“Come on, sit down!”

Your friends scooted in the booth and you slid next Luisa, with Tom on your left.

While you gave Luisa a thankful hand squeeze, you noticed Tom was pressing his hands nervously on his legs, his eyes darting around.

“Hey,” you said, placing your hand on top of his like it was your second nature. His eyes snapped up to yours in surprise, while his fingers entangled with yours.

“You’ll be fine, stop being so nervous.”

Tom smiled sheepishly at you and squeezed your hand. “Sorry.”

Shooting him a quick smile, you held his hand for a while longer before pulling away, noticing the look Luisa was giving you.

“Shut up,” you muttered and grabbed one of the beers Maisie poured out for you and Tom. While you kept your hand wrapped around the cold glass, he raised his with a quick “Cheers.”

The conversation at the table briefly stocked, but when Jessica mentioned the new restaurant that was opening around the corner, everyone was quick to state their opinion. And even though Tom wasn’t necessarily actively involved in the conversation, he was content to sit back and watch you interact with your friends.

“Sorry if I am being too forward,” one of the guys, Tom wasn’t too sure, but his name might be Max, suddenly spoke up, his eyes on Tom.

“But I really liked Far From Home. You did a great job.”

Tom beamed at that compliment and ducked his head, ever the humble person that he was.

“Aw, thanks man. I really hoped that people would like it, and I’m really proud of the movie,” he said, while your friends were glued to his lips. “The pressure on the movie being the last of Marvel’s Phase Three really made me nervous, but yeah. I’m glad it all worked out in the end.”

“So when’s the next movie coming out?” Maisie asked and Tom chuckled, shaking his head quickly.

“Fuck if I know. But I couldn’t even tell you if I wanted to, they would kill me.”

Your friends laughed and you laughed with them, a soft look on your face as you traced the water drops from the condensation on your glass.

Tom’s cheeks were pink, secretly pleased that he made your friends laugh, but even though he really wanted your friends to like him, all his attention was on you. He always wanted to see you happy and laughing and it was weird, because he hasn’t even known you for that long to value your happiness so much.

Back at home, he tried to focus on his family and friends, enjoy his time off and just spend it bumming around, but he was constantly thinking about you and wondering what you were currently up to. You were just so easy to be around and something about you made him want more. And Tom knew that you wanted more, too. But something was clearly holding you back and that was okay.

He was in no rush.

“So Tom, where are you staying?” Luisa asked, casually playing with the pretzel in her fingers. “Because I couldn’t help but notice that you turned up on our doorstep with your bags in hand.”

“Yeah, our doorstep which you gave him the keys to, Lu,” you interjected and your friends snickered as Luisa patted your arm consolingly, while Tom watched you, way too amused by the scene that was unfolding in front of him. Judged by the reactions from the rest of your friends, this bickering was routine for Luisa and you.

“It was to do you a favor, Y/N. Are you seriously trying to tell me that you weren’t happy to see him?”

“Whatever,” you grumbled and Luisa winked at Tom, before waving her hand at him. “So? Where are you staying?”

“Uh, I booked a hotel room. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to overextend my stay.” Tom said quickly but Luisa shook her head.

“Oh please, you should come and stay with us!”

“He should?” you asked, spluttering. “Do you expect him to sleep on the couch?”

“No,” Maisie grinned, leaning forward to bring your attention on her. “Luisa can spend the nights at my place as long as Tom is staying here.”

You eyed her skeptically. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with my girlfriend spending the night?”

“I was talking to Max,” you pointed out and Max shrugged with his shoulders before nodding. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can put on headphones.”

You snorted and shook your head before turning to Tom who was making himself small.

“I can spend the night at the hotel,” he offered. “If you don’t feel comfortable-“

“No, you should stay with me,” you said with a final tone and he smiled softly at you.

“Okay.”

As the night progressed and the beers were poured, you found yourself enjoying yourself a lot, and that Tom was getting along so well with your friends made it even better. There were a few fans who approached the table and asked for a picture with Tom which he politely declined, but otherwise it was good night.

It was nearing one am in the morning when you got up, after noticing Tom has yawned three times in a row.

“Alright guys, we’re calling it a night. I have to get this guy in his bed or I’ll end up carrying him all the way back,” you said and he frowned.

“You couldn’t take me, darling. I’m too buff.” He said, flexing his biceps and you pushed his arms away.

“Get out of here,” you laughed, while Jessica fanned herself.

“Such a dreamboat. If you’re not taking him Y/N, I will!”

“Bye guys,” you grinned and Tom waved his hands before the two of you exited the bar, slightly intoxicated from all the beers you’ve been drinking, but not too much that it was clouding your judgement.

Though the chilly air from outside was welcoming after having spent the past couple of hours in a stuffy bar, it still made you shiver a bit and you crossed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up.

“You cold?” Tom asked, already slipping out of his jacket to drape it over your shoulders. You pushed your arms through the sleeves and shot him a grateful smile.

“Thanks Tom.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and your fingers were clutching the sleeve of his leather jacket as you walked.

“I am really glad that you hit it off with my friends,” you then said and he glanced at you with a smile.

“Me too. They’re super fun,” he chuckled. “It’s refreshing to be around people who are in a completely different industry than I am. It can get kind of boring talking to actors and actresses all the time.”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded. “Must be really boring to work with Robert Downey Jr and Zendaya, I pity you.”

Tom huffed and bumped your shoulder with his. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

You laughed cheekily at him, stopping in front of the building of your apartment, looking expectantly at Tom.

“What? Luisa didn’t give you the key to the apartment building, too?”

“You know you’d look pretty dumb now if she would have,” he pointed out while you unlocked the door, the grin on your face wide. You weren’t sure if you were ever able to stop smiling again.

“I know I would have. Lucky me, right?” You said over your shoulder as you walked up the stairs.

“You know something else?”

“What?”

You turned around to him when you stopped in front of your apartment door, looking at him with expectant eyes.

“That jacket looks better on you than it ever did on me,” he told you, running his hands down your arms.

You snorted, while he looked down at you with a soft look on his face, his hands settling on your waist.

“Are you telling me I can keep the jacket?”

Tom shrugged, the tip of his shoes clanking against yours as he stepped closer. “You should. I am not lying, darling.”

Blushing, you wrinkled your nose at him. “I’d rather have a new one.”

The corners of his lips pulled up and his grip on your waist tightened.

“You’re really something else Y/N,” he mumbled and you could count the freckles on his face when he leaned in.

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[iamvegorott]

Returned Chapter 2

Delusional

Jack saw in the hard chair of the waiting room, anxiety clawing at his chest and with every second that ticked by on the clock hanging in front of him, the more he wanted to run away.

“Seán?” A young woman called out, clipboard in hand.

“Um...h-here.” Jack awkwardly raised his hand before quickly lowering it.

“Follow me please.” The woman said with a soft smile and waited till the man was on his feet before heading back down the hall she came from. Jack rubbed at the base of his thumb as he walked behind the woman. He stopped when she did. The woman gestured with her arm towards an open door and Jack lightly nodded before entering. “Take a seat wherever you want.” The woman stated as she closed the door behind her.

Jack sat in the chair furthest from the door and looked around the room as the woman sat in the other chair. The walls were an off-white color and there were two framed pictures of rocks hanging on the wall next to him and a loud ticking clock in front of him. There was a computer that sat in the back corner of the room and a blank, blue screen stared at him. The desk had little nicknacks, one of which was a rock with googly eyes glued on it. Jack couldn’t prevent the words ‘pet rock named Steve’ from popping into his head. He adjusted himself in the over-plush chair and looked at the small table that rested against the corner that was between himself and the woman. There was a small box of sand with a small rake in it, a bowl filled with squishy balls and a box of tissues.

“My name is Kelly Warren. How are you, Seán?”

“Jack.” Jack corrected softly. “Everyone calls me Jack.”

“Okay.” The woman wrote something down on her clipboard and a small sharp pain went through Jack’s chest. “How are you?”

“Fine.” Jack swallowed thickly as Kelly wrote more down.

“What brings you here today?” Kelly asked as she kept writing.

“Um...a friend sent me a link to your website and he suggested I get help,” Jack answered, playing with his fingers as he spoke. He was the literal opposite of comfortable as Kelly tilted her head and looked at him.  

“Why does your friend say you need help? Has something occurred?”

“He says that I might have...uh...PTSD?” Kelly hummed and wrote, something Jack wished she wouldn’t do, but knew it was her job to do so, he was being evaluated to see if he needed therapy, she needed to keep track of everything. Didn’t make it suck less, though.

“Now, what makes your friend believe that? Have you had any traumatic experiences in your life?” Kelly asked.

“I shot a man three times.” Jack blurted out, his eyes going wide.

“May I ask why you shot the man? And why three times?”

“He...he was threatening my friends and girlfriend.” Jack felt a pang of terror in his stomach as he remembered that day. “I-I had to stop him, he already stabbed one of my friends and he was going to hurt Signe again and I…” Jack cleared his throat. “I shot his leg so he couldn’t kill Mark and shot both of his hands so he couldn’t use them to hurt Signe.”

“I’m assuming that Signe is your girlfriend,” Kelly said as a question.

“Yeah.” Jack nodded.

“And how is your relationship?”

“Fine.”

“Is being intimate difficult for you because of this event?”

“I...I mean, we’re fine.” Jack started moving his hands more as he spoke. He thought he couldn’t get more uncomfortable than he was before, but he was proved to be very wrong and he did not want to know what Kelly was writing this time.

“And how are your relationships with your friends? You’ve mentioned a Mark? How is that?” Kelly looked at her clipboard.

“It’s fine. I actually call Mark when I start to freak out after a nightmare.” Jack rubbed the back of his head. “I know I should talk to Signe, but I don’t want her to worry, I don’t want to scare her.”

“Care to describe what these nightmares are?”

“They usually start with me and Signe relaxing somewhere, a park, an open field or just at my house and then there’s a gunshot and everything goes to hell.” Jack shuddered a little, the newest nightmare still fresh in his mind.

“How do you mean by ‘goes to hell’?”

“I mean, literal hell. Everything becomes gray and Vince shows up and Signe either disappears or gets hurt and then disappears and then I find my friends all turned into these deformed gray monsters that want to kill me and I thought I was done with those damned things, but they haunt my dreams and harass me in the middle of the day when all I want to do is record my videos!” Jack was yelling by the time he was done. He took several deep breaths and slumped down, feeling terrible for raising his voice when he was already loud enough in general.

“Two questions: Who is Vince? Is he the one you shot? And what do you mean by ‘those damned things’ when referring to ‘deformed gray monsters’?” Kelly was writing a lot as she asked her questions.

“Yes, Vince is the man I shot, he’s also the one that tried to turn the world into his own personal playground. Did you not hear about what happened in L.A. three months ago?” Jack felt a little weird asking the question this time.

“Nothing happened in L.A. three months ago, that I’m aware of,” Kelly responded.

“Did they not have it in the news? The sky went gray and the gray monsters that I was talking about were summoned by Vince and we had to fight them.” Kelly only blinked at him. “Have you at least heard about the sinkhole that happened at one of the convention centers in L.A.?” Still no response. “I know it didn’t happen here, but that’s some serious news.”

“Vince summoned the gray monsters?” Kelly went back to writing.

“Yeah, he used the same magic that he used to send me, Mark, Felix, Bob and Wade to this world he created where everything was gray and there were these weird animal hybrids and the gray monsters that looked human and not at the same time.” Jack didn’t like the concerned look on Kelly’s face as she read over her notes.

“And you’re having flashbacks of these...events?”

“I guess, yeah, I mean every now and again I can still see the splattered body of one of the creatures after they fell off of the roof of a hotel.” Jack felt his stomach turn a little. “Or feel the murky water on my skin that I felt when I had to save Mark from drowning or smell the burning flesh of the elephant monster that I used a Molotov cocktail on in order to save me and Mark and Mark’s voice still rings in my head of him pleading for a way home and blaming me after the portal closed before we could get in and I know that it was my fault, if I hadn’t insisted on having a quick shot going in, we would have made it home sooner and I might have prevented him from getting stabbed and from the others getting hurt as well.” Kelly only nodded her head and went back to writing. “So..yeah...I have flashbacks if you wanna call them that.” Jack added, speaking softer than before. He sat in the painful silence as Kelly kept writing, humming her herself every now and again before continuing. She eventually stopped and lowered her pen, crossing her arms across the clipboard and leaning a little towards Jack.

“I believe that Alec would be the best fit for you,” Kelly stated before standing and going over to her computer. “He’s a specialist in schizophrenia and-”

“Wait, what!?” Jack shook his head in disbelief. “Schizophrenia? What are you talking about?”

“To be blunt, you are clearly suffering from hallucinations to a severe degree and it might either be schizophrenia or a branch of it, he’ll surely be able-”

“I’m not having hallucinations! It happened! Call my friends, call fucking L.A.!”

“Jack, please calm down.”

“I came here to get help and you’re calling me delusional! You’re saying that everything I’ve gone through isn’t real! It is real! Mark still has the scars and Callie lives in my house!”

“Callie?”

“My pet creature! They’re like a squirrel with one eye but they’re the sweetest pet you could have ever asked for.” Kelly turned back to the computer and clicked several links.

“How are you Friday afternoons?” Jack let out a scoff.

“If you believe that I’m going to stay here after listening to your bullshit, you’re the delusional one.” Jack stood up and started walking out.

“Jack, wait-.”

“You can fuck yourself,” Jack added before storming out of the room.

[13rwbabes]

Montgomery x Reader Imagine (Part 2/?)

NOTE: Thanks for the good feed back, guys! So here comes part 2, unfortunately I’m stupid and in the middle of writing I realised I wrote this one in first person. Anyway, tell me which person do you prefer (I can try the third next time lol). This one is bit longer than the previous one, I hope you’ll like it xx *** I spent most of the Saturday with Sheri so I didn’t have much time to think about the hot tub thing, but Sunday… Most of the day I sat at my room, reading book, even though better word would be holding. I stared at one page for an hour and haven’t read a single word. Was I too hard on him? I mean, I joked around and made innuendos with all the jocks all the time, including Monty, but leaving him like that in the hot tub is something on a whole new level. Whatever, he started it and he deserved it. But memories of his lips and if his hands on my body still gave me chills. Fuck you, Montgomery, I whispered. Next day at school wasn’t anything special until I came to the chemistry lesson, a little bit late. “Please, take a sit, Ms. Y/L.N”, teacher barely even looked at me. I looked around the classroom and spotted last empty chair. Next to Montgomery.   “You gotta be kidding me”, I mumbled under my breath. “Hey, you”, I sat on my chair. “Hey”, he kinda acted normal, kinda stared at me. “How was the rest of the party, huh? You smoked some weed, play some video games?”, why am I like this, why did I even started this topic. “I had to jack off in the hot tub. Because of you”, he whispered through his clenched teeth. “Ew, does Bryce know about it?”, I prayed for him to shut up, afraid that someone would hear something and honestly, I couldn’t imagine anything some embarassing than people finding out that two of us made out. “You will regret it.” “Yeah, right”, I snorted. His hand went behind me and his fingers started running along my spine. I tensed up trying not to show that it had an effect on me. “Okay class”, teacher finally started lesson, “most of this semester, you’ll work in pairs, so look at your neighbour and say Hi to your new partner”. I slowly turned my head to look at Montgomery, now disgusted even more then when he mentioned jacking off in the hot tub. “What did you get in chemistry last semester?”, I asked. “What do I need to play in the team?” “C average or above”, everyone in sports teams said it like a mantra, it was literally the only condition, that has to be fulfilled to be in the team. “So it was C?”, I guessed. “Well, yeah, what did you get?” “A”, I sighed knowing all the work would be on me this semester. Next day I was in cafeteria, waiting in the line to get my food, wearing my cheerleader suit. “You’re looking good, you know?”, I heard annoying voice behind me. “Why don’t you just get ‘lookin’ good’ tattoed on your face?”, I answered bored. “Besides, you have seen me in cheerleader suit a thousand times.” “Yeah, but last Friday I took a good look at you in bathing suit…” “No way”, I interrupted him with sarcastic tone. “… And now I know what’s under it”, he continued. “What has gotten into you today?”, I asked, little bit shocked with his dirty talk. “I told you, you will regret”, he whispered. “So you gonna sexually harrass me for the rest of my life?”, I turned around to look at him and saw Clay Jensen coming up. “Hey, Jensen”, I said bit louder so he could hear. He waved at me and smiled. “Did you talk to Jeff?”, I asked. “US history and English will be kicking his ass once again.” “Yeah, I spoke to him and yeah I will tutor him”, he said as he walked by. “Thank you”, I gave him a high five. “You’re da best.” “Thanks, Y/N”. “Real MVP!”, you shouted and he laugh. I finally got my food, grabbed the tray and went to the table not waiting for Monty. I barely sat went Jessica came over with a smile on her face. “Okay, bitches, party at my place, Friday, 7pm”, she said, punched my arm and went. “Seriously, you have to stop doing it! Where are you going?”, I shouted. “To spread the news!” Friday came up and I really didn’t feel like coming. Again. “You always complain, but still come go the party and have a great time”, Jess said when we were walking home from school. “So stop making up excuses, or I swear I’ll slap you.” “You can’t fight with an argument like this, I guess”, I sighed. My parents didn’t have anything against the party, they didn’t put much interest in me as long as my grades were good and I was in cheerleaders team. I showed up at Jessica’s at 7, and was one of the firsts, because 7 really mean 9, but it was okay. My plan was to get buzzed (and I really wanted to get drunk that night) before party starts for good and to avoid Montgomery. Good thing was that after Tuesday talk in cafeteria he kinda stopped annoying me. By 10 pm I was properly drunk, so when Justin asked if I want to play spin the bottle with him and few other people of course I was like “Duh, fuck yeah”. I sat the floor between Sheri and Zach. “Hey, Monty, you play?”, Zach asked and moved slightly making place for Montgomery to sit between us. It didn’t really bothered me, because last three days he had been acting normal, so I thought he finally accepted the fact he got played. After few spins bottle pointed at me, I leaned towards Troy and gave him a quick kiss. I spinned the bottle and it pointed Monty. With poker I turned to him and kissed him as quickly as I did with Troy. He spinned and it pointed on me again. “Seriously?!”, I sighed. He quickly wrapped his arm around my neck, turned us, so people couldn’t really see our faces and kissed me stucking his tongue in my mouth. It lasted way too long than typical kiss in the game. “At least first bring her a drink, Montgomery”, Justin said and threw chips in our direction. “Easy, hot head”, I mumbled as I moved away without looking at his face. Few minutes later game was over, mostly because Jessica and Justin turned it into make out session. I got up and went to the kitchen, to make myself another drink and grab something to eat. One minute later I felt someone smacked my ass. “Did you just…”, I didn’t even have to look to know who it was. “You’re fucking disgusting, you know that?” “Maybe, but somehow I think you you’re into it and you like what is going on between us”, he took a sip of my drink without asking. “Oh my God, you’re also fucking ridiculous”, I said with my eyes wide open. “I’m too sober for that shit”, I drank whole drink at once. “You swallow fast”, he said with cocky smirk on his face. “One more word and I’ll throw up at you, I swear”. “Yo, Y/N”, I heard Jeff calling my name.  “Wanna go for a beer run with me?” “With pleasure”, I answered and run to him without even looking and Monty. In the car Jeff told me how he helped Clay and Hannah with their twisted situation, clearly proud of himself that for once he turned out to be smarter than Clay. “You’re good guy, Atkins”, I smiled at him. “All you want is to play baseball, have a good grades and help Clay with Hannah and that’s beautiful.” “Oh, come on, I’m gonna blush”, he laughed. “No seriously, I will tell every girl that you’re the most pure, sweetest cinnamon roll and that you’re different than others and don’t care about scoring". Weird grin showed up on his face. “You already scored today, didn’t you?”, I punched him in the arm. “I take my words back, you’re awful”, I laughed. “How does it happen that everyone make out with everyone, except me?“ “You know…”, Jeff moved in the seat. “It’s probably cause you always seem so… tied… And stressed” “Excuse me?”, I turned on the seat. “Well, you know, compared to other cheerleaders… Look, they don’t give a shit about anything, they don’t give a shit about school, about grades, they don’t give a shit even about cheerleading. And you care about everything and that’s why you seem more stressed than them”, he tried to explain. “Take a chill pill, make out with someone, have some fun”, he punched my arm. (Un)fortunately his words and the drink I drank and once before leaving for beer run, both hit me at the same time. Super drunk me decided to make out with somebody. Anybody. We came back, I left the car and started walking towards Jessica’s home, having big troubles with walking in straight line.   “Y/N, for fuck’s sake, just be careful”, Jeff shouted for me. “Yeah, yeah”, I mumbled getting into the house. I looked around and spotted Montgomery sitting on the couch, doing something of his phone. I went there, sat next to him and put my hand on his thigh. “It’s a party, Monty, put this phone away and have some fun”, I said. “Huh, look who’s gotten friendly”, he looked at me suspiciously. “I know, I’ve been a bitch but I went for that beer run with Jeff, you know, and I realized some things”. “Really, what things, for example?”, he put his arm around me. I didn’t answer him, I stared at his face instead, giggling. “God, you’re handsome”, I said glancing at his lips. “Okay, here’s what we gonna do”, he leaned towards me and whispered into my ear, “I’m gonna go upstairs, to Jessica’s room, and you’ll join me in few minutes”, his lips were touching my ear. I nodded my head, Monty quickly kissed me on the neck and basically run upstairs. “I’m gonna get laid”, I mumbled to myself. “I think I’m gonna get laid.” “Hey Y/N”, Jessica jumped on the couch. “Where have you been, I was looking for you.” “I was on a beer run with Jeff.” “Goood, I was afraid we run out of alcohol, but then Jeff came in like a Superman with sixpacks”, she giggled. “I think I need some water”, I smiled at her and left to the kitchen, I need to get rid of her. I poured myself a water, drank it and run upstairs. When I opened door to Jessica’s room, it was dark inside. I closed and locked the door. “Montgomery?”, I whispered. I heard steps behind me, second later Monty pushed me to the wall, grabbed my wrists put them above my head. His hands went down the sides of my body, until he grabbed my thighs and pulled me up, so I could wrap my legs around his waist. He laid me on the bed his lips went from my down neck to collarbones and started sucking it just like a week ago. “Monty”, I punched his arm. He pulled up, stroked cheek, and said, “Today I make the rules”, shiver went down my spine. “Fuck”, I mumbled. His hand went from my thigh to my breast and squizzed it. The other one pulled dress up, he started kissing my stomach, getting lower and lower, sucked my belly button, probably causing huge hickey around it, but I really fucking didn’t care. His head went up and he kissed my lips again. I felt his fingers sliding into panties which only turned me on more. I started unbottoning his shirt but he grabbed both of my wrists with spare hand. “Keep your hands yourself”, he whispered and slided his fingers into me. I scratched his back. “You like that?”, he asked as he curled his fingers and pumped them again and again. “Fuck, Montgomery, I want you, just fuck me already”, I moaned. “Does it turn you on?”, another pump. I nodded my head and bit my lip trying to not make any noices. It was dark, my eyes were closed, butcould sense fucking cocky smirk on his face. He slided out of me and sat bed. “Monty, why did you stop?”, I also sat on bed and switched the light on. He bottoned up two bottons I had undo and fixed his hair. “What the fuck are you doing?”, I asked. He stood up, leaned towards me and looking me in the eyes said, “Guess you can’t play the player, huh?” “Are you kidding me?”, I shouted. “It was fun, see you on Monday”, he unlocked the door, smiled at me and left the room. I sat there speechless for a few good minutes. “What the fuck did just happen?”, I asked myself out loud. I fixed my hair, took a deep breath and decided to go back to the party. “Fucking bastard”, I mumbled. I went down and sat on the couch next to Jess. “Why don’t you have any drink?”, she asked. “I’m good, thanks”. “You know, to be honest, you look a little fucked, break will be good for you”, she said, even though she was the one who was barely able to speak. “ Where the fuck is Justin?”, she looked around. “He’s playing beer pong with Montgomery”, Alex Standall sat on a chair in front of us. “Cool, thanks Alex”, Jessica got up. “You’re not coming?”, she asked me. “No thanks, I’m good, just gonna sit for a while”, I answered but she was gone before I even stopped talking. “How’s the party, Alex?” “I love her”, he mumbled, looking after Jess. “Oh God”, I rolled my eyes. “You two dated for like two months, year ago, seriously man, get over it”. “It’s love. It’s not logic”, he sighed. “Alex, I’m not saying this because I’m a bitch or because I root for Jessica and Justin. I’m saying this because you’re good and you deserve to be happy, okay? Move. On.” Said me. Person who couldn’t get over the fact that she got played by a player because she tried to get him played. Hypocrisy at it’s finest. I walked around the house, looking for Jeff, who was supposed to drive me home. Instead I bumped on Sheri. I pretended to listen to her while I was discretly watching Montgomery talking to some girl, wrapping his disgusting arm around her. “…are you even listening to me?”, she shaked my arm. “Umm, yeah, I was just… Looking at driveway, but I can’t spot Jeff’s car”, I lied quickly, in the meantime Monty got back inside. “He went for another beer run”. “Okay, I gotta go”, I smiled at her and went to the house. I saw de la Cruz shouting something to Justin as he was walking upstairs and then got into bathroom. I got you, you little fucker, I thought, went upstairs and stood next to door as if I was waiting in the line. “Are you waiting to get to the bathroom?”, Troy, the baseball player, patted my shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, I am”, I had to get rid of him, “Umm, you know… I feel a little bit sick, so it may take a moment…” “Are you gonna throw up?” “Maybe… As I said, it may take a moment. But you can use bathroom downstairs, it’ll probably be faster.” “Good idea, you’re smart”, he pointed at me. “Take care, Y/N” “Bye, Troy”, I chuckled watching him, when he was trying not to kill himself on the stairs. And I heard door getting unlocked. Montgomery opened them and then I pushed him back inside and locked the doors again. “We are finishing it now”, I said, grabbed his neck and kissed him.

[cosmosogler]

not sure what to do right now.

today was really bad... not because anything particularly bad happened (other than i got back my e&m test and it had... comments on it), but because i just really didn’t feel good emotionally. i just felt like doing nothing all day and didn’t get ANY work done at all.

like literally none.

we saw the ligo update during classical at least... and he moved the assignment back to wednesday. so i have one more day to dick around before i have to turn in whatever i have.

not going to have a lot of time tomorrow but we’ll see how that goes.

during my lunch break i went down to check out the lab but the students and professor seemed to be on lunch break. i arranged a meeting time over email after that instead. so i’ll be checking it out tomorrow after my office hour.

after quantum i holed up in suzanne’s office and got sick after trying to eat the pasta salad i made on sunday. i’d say that was a flop. it just didn’t have very good materials for being recooked i think. beans don’t handle being dehydrated and rehydrated as well as other stuff maybe. i’ll try a different brand next time.

during my office hour i really wanted to grade but then i just didn’t. i wanted to check something real quick, and then it was an hour later and my student showed up for the meeting with my supervisor. 

i felt really, really bad telling the student i wasn’t really in much control over their situation or how much help they got. i had a nervous very fake smile plastered on my face and i just didn’t know what to say at all. i hated it. i wanted to solve everything but i didn’t have the answers. and it was also so, so hard to focus on the conversation. half the time i straight up didn’t understand what the words meant when the supervisor was talkin. i had trouble standing up the right way. i wanted to fall asleep.

so i felt stupid and slow the rest of the day after that. while i was back in suzanne’s office very specifically not doing any grading or homework i talked to harrison a little bit about how he was doing since i noticed his jokes were getting very dark. i don’t remember much else about that 40 minutes. we talked about something that i enjoyed... i was trying to tell a few stories from high school and i didn’t get through a single one. i kept getting interrupted and eventually i just bellowed something like “WELL AT LEAST YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO HEAR THAT PUN, BECAUSE WHEN I GET CONSTANTLY INTERRUPTED NONE OF MY JOKES CAN LAND. SO YOU GOT SPARED.” jennica yelled back and leaned way in and i told her to get out of my face but she took it good-naturedly. 

e&m sucked. straight up. i got my test back. 9/30. nothing i do matters at all. i could do nothing but study physics for a year straight and still fail a basic quiz. 

ok, well, studying with suzanne and john meant i got one more point on the test than last time. 

i could get a perfect score on every quiz for the rest of the semester and the final and still only pass with a c+. i don’t know what to do. the grad advisor sent me an email about one of the professors who’s available for some tutoring. i sent her an email asking when she could meet.

while the class was going, instead of taking any notes, i stared at the floor, or blankly stared at the professor. i felt like i had never seen him before, and also never seen a blackboard before. i thought about what would happen if i dropped out. nothing good. i don’t want to do that. i don’t know what would happen to snoopy. or my savings. or really anything.

i felt like i had always been in that room for a million years but also like i had never existed in the first place. i felt like this is just what my life is like now. i move and get punched in the gut no matter which direction i step in. but i can’t just stand still. it doesn’t matter what tools i equip myself with. it always comes down to getting socked until my appendix explodes or something i don’t know where else to take that metaphor.

i hate this. i hate feeling stupid. retarded. you know. like mom said i am. after class i sat in my chair quietly while my classmates talked about where to get dinner before their class met for the second time today in preparation for the e&m midterm. i hate that i have a good week and then i spend the next three weeks being unable to think straight, or talk normal, or basically do anything school related. and then i get behind AND out of practice and i have to spend my good week playing catch up until i’m so exhausted that my depression gets bad again for three weeks. and also i get sick and i’m still sick and it’s been a month since this cold/flu thing started and i’m still coughing hard and sick and retching and i get sick every time i eat before 2 in the afternoon. and my nose is always stuffy and my face is scratchy and scabbed and healing too slow.

the cut doesn’t look as bad today and also isn’t as rough or raised from inflammation or whatever. so it’s healing. just... slowly. my surgical incisions still have that sort of raised bumpy quality that means they got more healing to do.

the surgeon said the incisions shouldn’t leave scars. but they’re still so... raw looking. not off-color in any way, just... sore. i get phantom habit pains whenever i jam something directly into my side where the largest incision is. it’s right near my elbow level so i just have things around that height at all times. trying to hold boxes, door knobs, stuff like that.

“tired” isn’t really the right word to be using. but it’s, like, the closest thing i got. weary. irritable. consumed. haggard.

i played a round of smash bros with keegan and harrison and we showed soham how to play. the controller i picked up was gunky and dusty and the a and b buttons were not responsive. there was something really disorienting about pressing buttons that are practically second nature and expecting something to happen and getting nothing and then running directly off the edge because my character didn’t stop to do the charge attack like i wanted.

hash tag relatable. 

after that we went to relish for dinner. i biked over there. it didn’t take long at all. i got shunted off to a table by myself though because they were only set for four people and we had five. i had trouble hearing the conversation. the burger was good at least. but it was hard to participate, and then they all had to leave so quickly for their review session. i biked home and almost got hit by a car at a stop sign. 

i guess i forgot that the stop sign is only there for one direction and not the other two.

i wanted to grade when i got home but instead of that, i goofed off and did nothing for three hours! then it was 9:00!! so i checked my comics!!! 

one of them updated and it Fueled me. i wish i had someone to talk to about it. feels weird trying to describe it or recommend it to anyone though. 

i’m kind of stuck in a bind there because on the one hand i hate sharing stuff that i find personally important. i hate sharing stuff that actually matters for real. but i also really like some stuff and think other people would like it too and i would like to like it together and be a little happier or maybe introduce someone to something that touches them. asher liked jojo way more than i thought he would and that was basically the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

it’s just risky is all. sharing stuff that doesn’t matter is... less dangerous. describing my day. stuff i did. how i feel. embarrassing times i got whacked in the face or whatever.

but stuff that matters? things that i hold close and think about every day? what i love? 

i dunno. sharing that is scary. here i am only vaguely alluding to this comic that’s basically consumed my feelings and tears for like 6 months straight. i check it every day. 

i know it’s not exactly my situation but it just... i dunno. reminds me of my childhood in a kind of way. i was alone though.

i think... maybe besides asher. or maybe even jim. really private thoughts. my favorite things ever. poetry. the last time i shared anything that really mattered was with craig.

well, we all know how that went.

at 9:20 after letting myself feel an emotion for once i got started grading. three hours after i wanted to start. i could have finished. but i didn’t do that! i didn’t even watch youtube videos or ANYTHING! i listened to one song a lot and i’ve learned it pretty well. i’d like to play it on the piano sometime if i could find any sheet music simplifying an extremely busy, textured piece haha.

at least i remembered to wear my reading glasses for a little while... my head doesn’t hurt as badly as it could have.

but instead of finishing my grading i got through like 6 pages. out of 180 that i need to have done by tomorrow. 540 by thursday.

i’m not going to have it done by tomorrow. or thursday. then my midterm is on friday and we’re all terrified. during our quantum review this morning the professor told us to focus on “math and physics” and then summarized everything we’ve learned in the class so far. Very Rude.

well. guess i need to at least finish this round of pages before bed. i want to keep writing... it’s not that i don’t express myself honestly around other people. i just don’t express myself. i guess. genuinely. fully. i don’t know. 

oz is very open. i enjoy talking to him. we both just seem to have so little time or energy. and i am very afraid of, yet again, being Just Too Much. 

right now i don’t want to do anything but cry. 

last night when i laid in bed to sleep my back and hips started really hurting, like cramping up, like when i lay flat on my stomach playing my gameboy or reading a book for too long and try to sit up. i reached around to touch my back and maybe find what was hurting so bad and i realized that, just, my entire back hurts. every muscle from the sides all the way around the back. touching the muscles back there felt like jabbing my fingers directly into a bruise and i wanted to die because it didn’t stop hurting even after i stopped touching anything. 

i’m too scared to think about getting a massage or anything like that. my scarring is so extensive on my right side... that and i just don’t like situations that are supposed to be relaxing. can’t stand hot tubs unless i’m just dicking around with my cousins. immediately suspicious of “relaxing voices.” except bob ross. that guy was legit. mostly because he was focused on painting and having a good time making his art. in group therapy back in spring we discussed asmr. makes me feel nauseous and grody. i only touch aromatherapy when i’m absolutely by myself and i basically dunk my pillows in lavender. doesn’t help me sleep though. 

AND SLEEPING? GOD!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T DO THAT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF SOMEONE GRABS ME???????? IT’S HAPPENED MORE THAN ONCE.

i don’t like people touching me. can you imagine, laying on your stomach around someone you don’t know and you can’t see them directly while they get their hands all over you and make weird noises that other people find soothing but you just find to be false advertising? 

but i don’t know what to do about my back. it hurts to lay down. my jaw hurts all the time. it is never not sore and tender. my shoulders are basically bricks.

i feel like i’m never going to get any better than this. i can’t change any more. i’m not good enough. i can’t keep doing this.

something good... i can’t think of anything. 

i wasn’t even really that frustrated when i yelled about getting interrupted for the five thousandth time. it seemed like the funniest thing to do in that specific situation. standing up for myself is only easy when it’s funny! no wonder no one can take me seriously. 

i gotta teach tomorrow. i guess that’s something. i really care about how my students are doing in their studies. at least, i hope i care. it’s hard to remember what it feels like sometimes, what to call that feeling. i try to be more “big sister” than “mom” but it seems like, in people’s minds, there might be a lot of overlap there. or it gets defaulted to mom and then it’s hard to pry yourself out of that box.

like i think of my students and i immediately think, “yeah i care about them!” but then i don’t actually feel anything? it’s just an instinctive thought without any ability to feel attached. that might come through in my grading. i’m not sure.

anyway it’s 11 and i haven’t made any more progress on my grading. might have to... put it away for the night and try to sleep. keeping myself physically healthy is going to help me more this week than finishing the grading. well, to think of it another way, getting sick right before my last (hardest? least predictable) midterm is a way worse idea than dealing with the consequences of not having the grading done and letting three labs stack up. gotta make a choice i guess. can’t do both today. just gotta... tell myself i’ll have more energy tomorrow, even if i don’t believe it.

[1misstherooftop-blog]

Dresden Dancing

Read on ao3

Summary: Jack didn't expect the lap dance. He definitely didn't expect writing an entire research paper with the man behind the dance.

Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs

Warnings: mature

Word Count: 9767

Jack wasn't sure when he'd last seen the sun-the literal sun that is. He hadn't looked away from the sun he was painting for at least twelve hours. His hand was cramping from holding his paintbrush. He could feel paint smeared across his skin, most notably the blue behind his ear. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to get paint there. The colors on his canvas kept blurring together. Jack figured he had been staring at it for too long.

The painting was almost finished. Jack knew painting it all in one go was the best idea. There was no way that he would think of a new style or technique before he finished. He was sure he'd taken a break before his fourth pass, or maybe he was already on his fifth. Whatever the case, he was it would be done soon. He just needed to add gold detailing and make sure the background had the same color unity as the foreground.

Jack used the end of his paintbrush to scratch his nose. The door to his studio slammed open, startling Jack into jabbing the paintbrush at his eye. He swore, tears already tracing through the paint on his cheek.

"Jackie!" A voice called. Jack spun around, squinting through his half-blind eye. Race was grinning at him, his arm slung around Crutchie's shoulder. Jack wasn't sure how they even managed to get into the building. He didn't think he wanted to know.

"What, Race? Can't you see I'm busy?" Jack was trying to make his eye stop watering, but to no avail. He feared he may have permanently blinded himself.

Race let go of Crutchie to step closer to Jack's painting. "It's lovely, Jack, but we haven't seen you outside the studio in fifteen hours. Have you even eaten?"

Jack frowned. "I've been drinking coffee. What time is it anyways?"

Crutchie checked his watch. "Almost 9:30. You've been in here since 7 this morning!" He sounded concerned.

Crutchie touched Jack’s face, leaning close in to look at his eye. “Did you jab yourself with a paintbrush again?”

Jack ducked away from Crutchie, rubbing at his eye. "It’s fine. I'm almost done, just a few more hours."

Race grabbed his arm, prying the paintbrush from Jack's fingers. Jack's hand stayed stuck in that position. One of Race’s eyebrows crept up to judge Jack. "No, you're done. You can come back tomorrow and finish it. You need to take a break, relax a little."

"Race and I have the best idea, you'll love it." Crutchie was practically shaking with excitement. Jack swatted Race away from his paints, cleaning up the tubes and brushes. "What would that be?"

Race took a deep breath, building the anticipation. "Clubbing!"

Jack sighed. "Really? Don't you guys have to study or something?"

Crutchie shrugged. "Nah, besides it's a Friday night. It's time you get your butt out of this room and into the real world. You'll have fun, I promise." He was practically pleading with Jack.

"All the boys are gonna be there," Race added.

Jack considered. He'd already put his paints away, and his hands did need a break. He didn't particularly like big crowds, but it wouldn't hurt if all his friends were there.

"Okay, fine, I'll go. Can I stop home and change first?" Jack gestured to his paint splattered clothing.

"Oh, don't worry. We already grabbed you something to change into." Crutchie tossed a bag to Jack. He opened it carefully, pulling out the clothes. They'd grabbed him darker jeans, and they looked skinnier than the ones he had on. Jack groaned when he looked at the shirt.

"You know I was drunk when I got this. It should only be worn for sleeping!" Jack was holding the shirt close to his chest like he could hide it from them. It was orange with the words "I like to arty hard" written across the chest in blue block letters. If the terrible phrase and complimentary colors weren’t bad enough, the neckline was lower than Jack ever thought shirts had a right to be. It was nice for sleeping in during the hot summer, but Jack could feel his dignity shrinking at the idea of wearing it to a club.

"You don't like it?" Race asked, trying to stop from grinning. "We thought it would make you stand out a little bit. Pick up someone interesting."

Jack groaned. This was the life he was living now. He finished putting his paints away, washing his arms and face while Race and Crutchie waited. He changed quickly, leaving his paint splattered clothes to wear tomorrow. His chest was cold where his shirt lacked material to cover it.

"Can we go now? Or do you have something else for me?”

Crutchie was covering his mouth to hide his smile. "No, we're ready to go."

Jack followed his friends out of his studio, his palms sweaty with anticipation of what was to come.

The pounding pulse of the music hurt Jack's ears. He wasn't sure how much hearing he had left anymore at this point. Race and Crutchie had already dragged Jack to three different clubs, but they clearly had a final destination in mind. They hadn't even met up with everyone else until they came into this club. Jack had seen Romeo, Spot, Mush, Blink, and Specs, but they'd all vanished onto the dance floor quickly. Jack was hovering by the walls, questioning his life choices.

"Crutchie," Jack started. Crutchie stopped watching the dance floor and turned to Jack. "Two questions. One, why are we at a gay bar? And two, why are we at a strip club?"

It wasn't clearly labeled as either. From the outside Jack expected a normal bar. The interior had quickly changed his mind. Everyone in the club was male, and there were incredibly toned and attractive men on platforms around the room, flirting and flaunting.

"Look, Jack, Race and I thought you needed this. We went to three normal clubs before and you didn't have any fun at those."

"So you thought I'd have fun here?" Jack snorted. He hated how loud the club was. His inspiration for his painting slipped with each song. He was never finishing it at this rate.

Crutchie laughed, too. "Nah, but you can relax here. Drink something, find a cute boy, do anything!"

Jack pouted at him. "I could have finished my painting by now."

Crutchie threw his hands up in exasperation. "I have an idea. Wait here."

Jack watched him take off into the crowd, people clearing the way for him and his crutch. The mob of people closed back up behind him, leaving Jack alone. He sighed. He wasn't in the mood for anything today. He was tempted to bail and head home, but Crutchie reappeared before he could put his plan into action. He was dragging Race along behind him who looked excited.

"What are you two scheming about?" Jack asked, the devilish grins on both of their faces a dead giveaway.

"You'll have to wait and see," Race said. Jack sighed. Race clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It's time for you to have fun."

Jack was very worried about what 'fun' implied. He guessed it had nothing to do with art.

"What have you done?" Jack asked, trying to dig his heels in as Race started pulling him into the crowd. He was definitely heading towards one of the raised platforms. Jack prayed they weren't doing what he thought they were.

"Here ya go, Jackie." Race stopped walking, letting Jack go finally. Jack did not want to look away from Race. He was too scared of what they'd done.

"Is this him?" someone asked.

"Oh yeah, this is him. Jack," Race said. He pushed Jack forward. Jack finally looked up to avoid tripping. He almost did a double take. Race and Crutchie had most certainly paid one of the workers, and Jack could see that he was the prettiest one there. He wasn't half naked like the rest’ rather, he had a nice vest on over a white button down. His hair was dark and soft looking. The blue of his eyes was like rich paint. Jack felt his heartbeat pick up just looking at him.

"You can sit down," the man said to him. Jack looked at where he was gesturing. It was a single chair in the center of the platform. Jack felt his mouth go dry. He turned to Crutchie.

"You did not pay for a lap dance," he hissed under his breath.

Crutchie touched his arm. "But we did, and you've gotta sit down now."

Jack looked back at the chair. There was no way he was going to get out of this. He sat in the chair. Race whistled. Jack resisted the urge to flip him off, instead focusing on the man.

Hell, he was so pretty. He stepped closer to Jack, his hands resting on either arm of the chair. Their faces were very close. Jack didn't think he was breathing. He could kill Race and Crutchie later.

The man stepped closer, sliding partially into Jack's lap. Jack was staring at his tie to avoid looking into his eyes. Jack knew there must have been music, but he couldn't hear it over the blood rushing in his ears.

The man moved closer, his hands reaching up to loosen his tie. He pulled it off, wrapping it around the back of Jack's neck. He used the tie to pull Jack closer till there was almost no space between them. Jack was forced to look up, straight into his pretty eyes. They could kiss if Jack leaned forward more. They were not going to kiss.

The man stood up, stepping back from Jack for a moment. Jack took deep breaths to recover. The man unbuttoned his vest smoothly, slipping it off before moving on to his button down. Jack sort of missed the vest, but the man's pale and perfect skin was a fine substitute.

Jack's knuckles were white from gripping his legs so hard. The man kept his routine going, but Jack could barely focus. He wanted to save himself from the sheer beauty he was seeing. He wanted to ask the man out for dinner maybe, then afterwards they could resume the strip tease. He didn't say anything, instead sat still and obedient as the man finished.

Jack was almost dizzy by the time the man helped him stand up. He looked flushed, but Jack was sure he was redder. He wasn't sure what to say, maybe thank you? He opened his mouth but Crutchie was tugging him down and back to their group before he could.

"You're welcome," he said, smug.

"Damn, Jack. Don't you feel stress free?" Race was smirking at Jack. Jack managed to sort of nod his head. "Ready to head home then? I think everyone's beat."

Jack nodded again. He let Race lead him out of the club, only stealing one glance back at the beautiful man.

Jack somehow managed to go through the rest of the weekend only mildly distracted. He finished his painting and started sketching studies for his next one. He couldn't stop drawing the man. Page after page of his sketchbook was filled with drawings, each more detailed than the last. Jack decided he would work on the painting next weekend and shoved his sketchbook into a drawer so he didn't have to look at it.

Race and Crutchie texted him constantly to tease him. They'd apologized at first, but now they'd moved on to reminding Jack of how pretty the man was. Jack was tempted to block them.

Jack had almost managed to forget about the man by the time class rolled around on Monday. He’d gotten roaringly drunk by dinner Sunday and he was still riding out the hangover. He even found the focus to pay attention through his entire lecture in the morning.

He was worried about his first day in a new class, but he figured they wouldn't do anything today. He found the classroom easily and sat somewhere near the middle. Students were streaming in, filling the seats quickly. Jack rummaged through his bag looking for a notebook, his attention focused solely on his bag.

Someone sat down in the seat in front of him, the movement of the chair causing Jack to bump his head.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" The person said. Jack froze. He knew that voice. He kept his head down and muttered something like 'I'm fine'. His heart was pounding. He finally found the notebook and sat up very slowly in case the person in front of him was looking. He wasn't.

Jack slumped low in his chair and started at the back of the man's head. It was , the man from the club. Jack was praying to every god he could think of that the man wouldn't turn around and recognize him. Jack started grabbing his things to move seats, but the teacher tapped on the board for attention. He was stuck.

The teacher launched into a lecture right away. Jack had his notebook open but he was way too distracted to write anything. He couldn't look away from the man. Just watching him write notes was mesmerizing. His handwriting was pretty and neat. Jack admired his hands for aesthetic purposes, completely disengaged from the class. He didn’t dare raise his hand or speak in fear it would draw attention to him.

Watching the man had Jack thinking of the club. He remembered the feeling of the tie against his neck, the feeling of his chest pressed against the man's-

Jack dug his nails into his thigh to remind himself he was in class. He did want to deal with anything during a lecture.

Jack barely survived class, his heart racing the entire time. The second class was over, he threw his things into his bag and ran. He didn't watch where he was going, texting furiously to Crutchie to meet him at the dining hall.

Jack reached the hall in record time, almost sprinting to make sure he was away from the man. Crutchie was already sitting at a table with Race, both of them trying to throw grapes into the other's mouth. Jack slammed his bag to the table and threw himself into the seat as dramatically as possible.

"You're never going to guess who's in my history class," Jack said, breathless.

"Specs?" Crutchie asked hopefully.

Jack scoffed. " , he doesn't need to take history. Do you remember the guy you assholes paid to give me a lap dance?" Jack's voice was pitched low at the last part.

Race howled with laughter, slamming the juice box he’d been drinking onto the table. "No fucking way! He's in your class?"

Jack nodded mournfully. Race laughed harder. He was practically choking, hitting his own thigh as he wheezed.

"Did you talk to him?" Crutchie asked, always curious. He was intentionally ignoring Race now.

Jack shook his head hard enough to hurt. "No! I kept my head down and didn't say anything the entire time. He sits right in front of me."

Race looked like he was going to cry from laughing so hard. He wiped at his eyes like he been. "This is amazing. Are you going to talk to him?"

"Are you insane?! Never! I'm going to keep quiet and change seats as soon as I can. Maybe I'll drop the class, I don't need to take it this semester." Jack was mentally mapping out the route to the administration building, ready to go drop the class.

Crutchie put a hand on Jack's arm. "Don't worry, This class will be fine. You can move seats and never have to talk to him."

Jack sighed. He wanted to talk to him. He just didn't want to think about the lap dance that had changed his life.

"You're right. I'm gonna move next class. It's only a semester. It's not like I'm going to have to talk to him."

Crutchie nodded, still touching Jack's shoulder. "Don't worry about this."

Jack survived the next two days without any extra thoughts about the man. Sure, he had a brief dream in which he made an appearance, but Jack blamed that on the half gallon of apple juice he'd chugged before bed.

He showed up to class earlier than most people, throwing his stuff into a seat in the back. He figured no one would see him unless they were actively searching (and the man definitely wasn't).

Jack spotted him the moment he walked in the door. He sat in the same seat he had last time, not even sparing a glance at the seat Jack had occupied. Jack was at once relieved and upset. At least he knew the man hadn't noticed him.

People filed into the classroom in a steady stream until the class finally started. Jack could actually pay attention this time, as he wasn't distracted by the man. The teacher was talking about a research essay they had to do. Jack could handle that, even if the teacher was insisting they do it with a partner.

"I'll assign you alphabetically. Please listen for your name and who you will be partnered with. You can stand and meet with your partner when your names are called. Rebecca Agnes and Sarah Almaat..." Jack zoned out as the professor droned on. He didn't have to focus till the Ks rolled around. He doubled checked his notes before he started packing up. Once he got his partner he would be done.

"David Jacobs and Jack Kelly," the professor said.

Jack stood at the mention of his name. He looked around for who else standing. He almost ran out of the classroom.

It was the man. His partner was the man. The man- David- was staring up at Jack. Jack thought he could see recognition in those blue eyes.

He was so fucked.

Jack mustered up every bit of courage he could and approached the man.

"Hi, I'm Jack," he said, extending his hand for a handshake.

David shook his hand. "I'm David."

Jack decided he would die before he mentioned the lap dance. He hoped David felt the same way.

"Do you have an idea for a controversial topic?" Jack asked, quick to set them on task.

David's eyes lit up. "I was actually reading about this last night. The bombing of Dresden, it's controversial and easy to research."

Jack nodded. "If you think it's a good idea let's do it. I don't have any ideas myself."

David was smiling. "You have a laptop, right? Let's decide if we want to blame the United States or Great Britain..."

David trailed off as he began furiously typing. Jack checked the wiki page for more info on the bombing. It was pretty boring; he wasn't sure what David found exciting about it. Nevertheless, Jack quickly got caught up in finding sources and references for the paper. He didn't even realize class was over until David started packing up.

"We can work on this sometime this week if you're free," David offered. "I can shoot you an email and we can plan a time to meet."

Jack nodded. "Sounds good to me. It was a pleasure," Jack held his hand out again to shake David's. He felt like an absolute dumbass. David shook his hand anyways, waving once at Jack before walking away.

Jack pulled his phone out and sent a single SOS to Crutchie.

Race and Crutchie were in the same spot in the dining hall when Jack found them. Jack wasn’t sure why Crutchie was bringing Race to Jack’s freakouts, but he wasn’t in a state to complain.

"So, what's going on?" Crutchie asked, lazily spooning crushed cookies onto a cup of ice cream. Jack grabbed the spoon from him and ate some, already stressed.

"I'm paired with him for a project," he said, forlorn and whiny.

Race choked on the ice cream he was eating. "What?! Did he recognize you?"

Jack shook his head. "Neither of us said anything but I'm almost sure he recognized me. He's so pretty. His name is David, like the angel."

"David was a king-" Race hit Crutchie to shut him up.

"You're going to survive this, Jack. It's just one project. It's going to be over before you know it."

Jack shook some sprinkles into Crutchie's ice cream without looking, scooping more into his mouth. "I hope you're right."

The pinging of a notification on Jack's phone woke him up. He'd drifted off while researching Dresden. He fumbled blindly for the phone, pulling it close to his face to see.

A mail notification was the only thing. He didn't recognize the email, but the subject was "Research Project".

Jack’s heart did a little flip. David had emailed him. About the project, of course, but it was something.

Jack scanned the email quickly. It was incredibly formal, each point sectioned into a paragraph. David even had a signature at the end that looked personalized. Jack had to read it a few times to separate random facts from important things.

David wanted to meet with Jack in the library so they could work. He had a study room booked and had already started finding reference texts. Jack was beyond glad that David was on top of things. Jack couldn't even find his pants.

Jack pulled himself out of his bed, quickly typing a reply to David. He toed around for his jeans, checking and double checking his email for typos. He only had to send an "okay see you there" but he thought David wouldn't appreciate that. He finally located his jeans, almost tripping himself as he struggled to hit send while pulling them on.

His phone said it was 5:00. He had an hour until he was supposed to meet with David. Jack figured a snack at the library wouldn't hurt.

Jack threw some of his binders into a bag so he would be ready. He hoped there was a pen somewhere, as he'd lost his during class. Jack had the bad habit of tapping pens until they flew out of his hand.

Jack set the bag by the door next to his shoes to make sure he wouldn't forget it. He opened a text to Crutchie, quickly informing him of the fact that he was going to be stuck with David, in a room, alone, for an unknown amount of time.

Jack dug up some bagel bites and threw them into the microwave. He wanted something sweeter, but Crutchie had warned him that if he ever put sprinkles on bagel bites again, Crutchie would have no choice but to kill Jack.

Jack didn't feel like testing that.

He grabbed a family sized bag of M&Ms and a few cokes to put in his bag too. The bagel bites were like lava as he struggled to fit them into a container.

His phone pinged. Crutchie had only sent a little devil emoji. Jack sent him the middle finger back.

He shoved the rest of his stuff into his bag. Jack didn't have anything else to do. He figured showing up early to the library wouldn't hurt.

Apparently David had the same idea. Jack ran into him right outside the door to the library.

"Jack! Here, the room is over by the computers," David didn't even say hello before dragging Jack into the library. Jack stumbled behind David as he pulled him between shelves to a study room.

Jack whistled when he saw the stacks of books on the table. "All of these are about Dresden?"

David laughed. "No, that's silly. There are some on World War Two, some on war bombing, some on war bombing during World War Two, a few on the history of Germany, and yeah, a few about Dresden."

Jack did not want to read that many books. "Are you hungry?" He asked David, eager to divert his attention from the books.

David frowned at Jack. "Yeah, but you're not supposed to eat in the library."

Jack scoffed, already pulling his food out. "We aren't in the library. We're in a study room. Have a coke."

David watched Jack unpack his food, cradling his pop in his hands. Jack sat, pouring a few M&Ms in with his bagel bites.

David made a gagging noise. "That's disgusting."

Jack shrugged, already enjoying his 'dinner'. "Don't mock me for what I eat. Mock Arthur Harris for thinking area bombing was a good idea."

David snorted, setting his drink down. "A Dresden joke? Great job."

Jack shoved another bagel bite into his mouth. "So," He cleared his throat a little bit. "Should we blame the United States?"

David sat down, already flipping books open. "No, of course not. Here I was reading this and it has a lot about Great Britain..."

Jack half listened to David explain their topic to him. He understood the basics, and David seemed to understand everything. Jack was so thankful David liked historical argumentative papers.

David started stacking books in front of Jack, rattling off summaries. “I bookmarked chapters to read. Just find some good quotes, I can do all the background research.”

“Are you sure? That seems like a lot, do you even have time?”

David nodded. “I’ll be fine, this is a fun paper.”

Jack watched him hoist up a book that was at least a thousand pages. “If you insist.”

Jack somehow lifted his pile of books, his arms burning. They had to equal the weight of a small child. David packed his things as well.

“We can meet back here tomorrow night. Or we could meet at the cafe,” Jack offered.

“How about the cafe around 6? We don't have to do much else besides reading currently.”

Jack nodded, shuffling his books around to extend a hand to David. “See you then.”

David shook his hand. “Be safe.”

Jack watched David disappear back into the library, not even struggling to carry his stack of books. Jack pulled his phone out to text Race.

Jack stared at his screen until Race answered. was all Jack told him. Getting back to their shared apartment took Jack much longer than usual. He couldn't see well over his stack of books and had to walk incredibly slow to avoid tripping.

He kicked on the door to knock, almost sobbing with relief when it opened.

“My god, did you take the whole library?” Race asked, shutting the door behind Jack.

Jack dumped the books onto the table, his arms sore. “Only half. David took the others.”

Crutchie made a noise. “David? Like the actual angel man David? What are you doing with him?”

“Our project!”

Race laughed very loudly. “You’re already meeting up with him?”

“Yes! He's very on top of things. But that's not the point!” Jack slammed his hands onto the table, making Race jump. “The point is that I have to meet up with him everyday this week! We can’t avoid it forever, the lap dance is going to come up!”

“It doesn’t have to if you never mention it. Just do the project and move on,” Crutchie suggested.

Jack groaned. “But he’s so pretty.”

“Someone's got a crush,” Race cooed in a singsongy voice. Jack tried blindly to slap him but Race was too nimble. “What do you plan to do about it?”

Jack sighed. “I’m gonna finish the project and find another beautiful stranger to chase.” Race hit Jack’s leg, his palm over Jack’s knee. “There's my beautiful bisexual. Move on and let go.”

Jack nodded, his heart aching at the thought of David forgetting him.

Jack and Davey met up at the cafe when it was empty. Usually people were packed into the cafe, but on a Wednesday night most people were either already asleep or in the library studying. Jack didn't know if he was happy or terrified to have so little people around.

"Did you start reading yet?" David asked him right away.

Jack stirred his hot chocolate. He'd mixed in chocolate and such to make it sweeter. "I started a few," he lied. He'd read through all of them and hadn't understood anything. He begged Specs to help and spent three hours with him while he explained it to Jack.

David looked pleased. "Okay, so I’m guessing we can focus on the idea of area bombing..."

Jack listened as hard as he could to David. He was distracted too easily. Jack's leg was bouncing incredibly fast as he jotted down notes about what David was saying. He added little drawings too so he would remember certain things later. David watched him with a hint of amusement, still explaining their paper to Jack.

Jack finally understood their paper and opened Specs' notes to show David. David already knew exactly what he wanted from the paper. He poured over the notes, typing stuff onto his laptop. His focus was incredible. Jack's was not.

"Do you want another coffee?" Jack asked him, playing with his own empty cup.

David glanced up from his computer. "Do you mind?"

Jack shook his head. David smiled. "Just don't load it with whatever crap you put in yours."

Jack made a mocking noise of hurt. "This is how you repay my kindness?"

"I don't want to die young from health complications."

Jack shrugged. "Fair enough."

Jack took both mugs back up to get them refilled. He loaded his once more with sugar and toppings, leaving David's untouched.

He walked very slowly back to the table to avoid spilling any. He set his down then handed David his.

David fumbled, splashing the hot coffee onto his lap. He cursed, jumping up.

"Jeez, Dave, you weren't this clumsy Friday night," Jack joked without thinking.

David froze, his hands holding bunches of napkins. Jack watched his face flush bright red. David cleared his throat. "You recognized me?" he asked, his voice considerably higher.

Jack regretted every decision he had ever made in his life leading up to this. "How could I not? You’re quite memorable."

Jack thought about smashing his head into the table until he couldn't speak anymore.

David groaned. "Can't we just do Dresden and act like that never happened?" He was wiping furiously at his things to clean the coffee.

"Why are you even working there anyways?" Jack asked, genuinely curious. "You don't seem the type."

"How do you think I'm paying for this class?" David tried to laugh but it sounded incredibly forced.

Jack shrugged. “Nevermind. I was thinking we can talk about the concept of area bombing versus terror bombing.”

David’s eyes lit up. The tips of his ears were still red. “Good plan! I actually have an outline I can share with you…”

Jack tried to focus entirely on David. He was very clever and organized. Jack figured the project would be easy, especially considering the lap dance thing had already been dealt with.

David finished all of his explanations after two more coffees. Jack was almost excited about Dresden.

“I’ll email you if you want to meet up again,” David said, packing his coffee stained things.

Jack grabbed his things in a messy pile, gulping down the last of his coffee. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

Jack shook David’s hand, feeling just as stupid as he had last time. David left the cafe first. Jack hung back, typing a frantic message to Crutchie.

He almost ran back home, flinging the door open the second he got back.

“Major problem!” Jack yelled into the apartment. Race and Crutchie paused the video game they were playing to pay attention to Jack. Jack threw himself onto the couch with them.

“He recognized me! The lap dance thing came up.”

Crutchie covered his mouth to stifle his laughs. Race was already wheezing, his hand hitting his thigh.

“Guys! This isn't funny!” Jack whined.

Race swiped at his face like he was wiping away tears. “I'm sorry. How did this conversation happen? Did he say ‘hey I gave you a lap dance Friday’ or something else?”

Jack groaned. “I made a joke about him being clumsy. He was really shocked I remembered him.” Jack dropped his face into his hands. “How could I not? He’s perfect.”

Crutchie patted Jack’s shoulder. “It's going to be okay. I'm sure he'll forget about it soon enough. You'll just be another lap dance in the list.”

“That doesn't help! I don't want him to forget! Maybe the lap dance part, yeah, but not about me.”

Race patted Jack’s other shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Jack whined. “Don’t lie to me. I’m gonna die.”

Crutchie handed Jack his controller. “Take your frustrations out in Super Smash Bros.”

Jack nodded. He didn’t have to acknowledge his problems if he didn’t want to. Two hours into his tournament with Race he had forgotten entirely.

Jack and Davey met up every night for the rest of the week. Jack made it his own personal duty to bring weird foods for Davey. The most memorable was his s'mores pizza, which was just normal pizza he crumbled graham crackers on and threw on marshmallows and chocolate. Davey had almost cried watching Jack eat it and had gagged when he was persuaded into trying some.

Jack still appreciated his efforts. He really appreciated Davey in general. The tension of the whole "I gave you a lap dance" thing was swept under the rug. Instead, they talked about Dresden, and history, and themselves. Jack was always happy to talk to people and learn about them. He was keeping a little list on his phone of everything Davey had told him so he wouldn't forget.

His favorite thing to hear about was Davey's family. He adored the way Davey's eyes lit up when he talked about his youngest brother, Les. He thought his ex, Katherine, would adore Davey's older sister. Davey spoke about Sarah like she was his favorite person. Jack was just the tiniest bit jealous of Davey's siblings.

Jack even told Davey he wished he had siblings.

Davey had laughed. "No, they're a pain in the ass."

Yet Davey continued to tell stories about them to Jack when they weren't writing. They didn't write much, as Davey had already done the whole paper. Jack was actually surprised he'd managed to contribute anything. He was proud of himself.

Jack and Davey were in the middle of one of their "breaks." Davey was sipping his black coffee (with two pumps of vanilla from Jack) and talking about work. He was quite casual with the whole thing. Jack admired it.

Jack fidgeted a bit, tapping a pencil against Davey's binder. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you have this job?"

Davey frowned a little. "It's not a very interesting story." He picked at his nail, not looking at Jack.

"I don't mind." Jack was open to talking about anything with Davey (besides the lap dance part).

Davey glanced at Jack for a second, probably checking if he was serious. He was. Davey took a deep breath. "My family can't really afford college. My dad, he got fired right before I started this year. He hurt his arm really bad."

Jack made a tiny noise. "Is he okay?"

Davey nodded, focused on his nails again. "He's almost recovered now, he just... doesn't really have a job. My mom was going to get one, but my little brother needs someone to take care of him. His name is Les. I don't want my parents leaving him alone just to pay for me. And my sister, Sarah. Well, she can't really watch him."

"Why not?" Jack asked. He guessed he shouldn't be asking questions but he was very curious and impulsive.

"She's, uh, she's gay. And my parents didn't like it when she came out. She sort of left, sort of got kicked out."

"What about you?"

Davey rubbed a hand across his face. "They don't really know. That I'm gay," he voice sounded strained. "They know I have a job, that's why I'm still here. Sarah knows but she would never tell them. It's the fastest and easiest way I can pay for this year."

Jack's heart hurt at the sight of Davey being sad. It wasn't something he ever wanted to see across the pretty boy's features. Davey was still picking at his nails. Jack touched his shoulder so he turned to face Jack. Jack did the stupidest thing his impulsive ass could think of.

He kissed Davey.

Davey's lips were soft and pliant against his own. Jack leaned closer, his hands moving to touch Davey's face. Davey froze at the touch. Jack pulled back a little to look at him.

Davey's cheeks were flushed, his ears red. His eyes were wide. "What the hell was that?" He asked, his voice low.

Jack blanched. "What? I-"

"You pity me and you think kissing me will make it better? Just because I'm gay or something?"

Jack struggled for words, his head was still spinning. "No, David, I didn't mean-"

"It doesn't matter what you meant. Just-" Davey scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled hard. "Get back to your dorm safe."

Davey grabbed his things, throwing himself out of his seat and away from Jack.

"Davey!" Jack called. He kept walking. "Dave, please. David!"

Davey didn't turn back.

Jack swore, slamming a fist down. His hands were shaking. He dropped his face into his hands and took very deep breaths. He wasn't going to cry. He was going to text Crutchie and deal with this.

, he typed.

Jack dropped his phone into his bag and stood. He was practically dragging himself back home. He wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. Or maybe die. Either way he wouldn't have to think about the look on Davey's face anymore.

Crutchie and Race were patiently waiting when he returned. They each looked a little awkward.

“What happened?” Crutchie asked as Jack sank into a seat next to him.

“I, uh. I kissed him.” Jack said, barely speaking above a whisper.

Race clapped his hands together. “Jack! That’s good! What happened?”

Jack cleared his throat. “He shoved me away. He yelled at me for pitying him.” Jack pressed his hands to his face, exhaling hard. “God, I fucked up so bad.”

Crutchie reached for Jack’s arm. “You can fix this. Why did he think you were pitying him?”

“He told me why he’s working at the club, and how his parents don’t know he’s gay. He just looked sad I did the first thing I thought of.”

“You still have to finish the project. Just talk to him. Next time you meet, ask him to talk.” Race suggested.

Jack blinked at him. “That’s actually an okay idea.”

Race shrugged. “I have okay ideas sometimes.”

Jack laughed halfheartedly. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to lay down I think.”

“No problem. We’re here if you need anything.” Crutchie said, his voice comforting.

Jack dragged himself to his room, collapsing down to his bed. He wanted to email Davey. He didn’t email Davey. He laid there, staring at his ceiling. He’d painted the night sky across it. Jack fell asleep staring at the moon.

Jack woke up to pounding. He blinked, checking the clock next to his bed. It was almost two in the morning.

The knocking at the door was loud enough to drive Jack out of bed. It wasn’t going to stop. He wasn't sure if Race and Crutchie were asleep yet, but he didn't want to find out. He stumbled out of his room towards the door, finally wrenching it open.

Davey stood in his doorway. Jack almost slammed the door shut in panic. Davey seemed to notice the look on his face as he put a hand on the door.

"Please, Jack. I need to talk to you."

Jack stepped aside to let Davey in. Davey kept his back turned to Jack, running his hands through his hair.

"Listen, Dave, about earlier-"

Davey held up a hand to stop him. "No, you listen."

Jack was worried Davey had come here to yell at him. He could feel his chest tighten at the idea.

Davey continued, oblivious to Jack's panic. "I realized that you sort of got a lap dance from me at a gay bar, and yeah, that means you're probably not straight and you probably had a reason to kiss me. Maybe I'm kidding myself but you could have had your own motivation to kiss me. I don't want to start assuming things but I don't want you to think I'm mad at you because I was being stupid. You're just so attractive and it's really been throwing me off and the kiss today was like, the final straw. And I really would want to kiss you again but like I said, I could just be kidding myself and-"

Jack grabbed Davey by his stupid tie and pulled him in to kiss him. Davey made a surprised sound against Jack's lips. Jack kissed him hard, desperate for whatever Davey would give him.

He did not disappoint. Davey's hands settled on Jack's waist, barely there. It wasn't enough. Jack clutched at Davey's shirt, pulling him closer. He ran his hands across Davey's chest and back around his neck, barely grazing Davey's hair. Davey stepped closer, pressing their chests together.

Jack moved his hands to Davey's hair and whined. Davey took advantage of his slack mouth and kissed him harder, open mouthed and hot. Jack moaned into Davey's mouth. His lips were amazing. Davey reached for Jack's shirt, his hands touching his bare stomach. Jack tugged at his shirt, desperate to have it off. He pulled away from Davey a moment to remove it fully. Davey whined a little at the loss but stopped when he saw Jack’s shirt.

"Do you only own V-necks?" he asked. His voice was low and rough.

Jack made a noise. "It's my sleep shirt, I get hot." Jack pulled the shirt off fully. Davey’s hands settled on his bare sides, each fingertip burning a mark into Jack’s skin.

"Is that why you're in these?" Davey asked, eyebrow raised as he ran a thumb across the waistband of Jack's shorts. They were short.

"It keeps me cool," Jack protested. Davey opened his mouth again, ready to call Jack out. Jack tugged him back in, whining into the kiss. Davey's hands stayed near his shorts, almost touching Jack's ass. Jack grabbed at Davey, pulling him closer till they were almost completely pressed together. The material of Davey’s shirt was soft against Jack’s chest.

Jack stepped forward more, forcing Davey to step back against the wall. Davey made a surprised noise when his back hit the wall. He kissed Jack harder.

Jack moved from Davey's lips and onto his neck. Dave gasped, biting at his lip. Jack wanted to do it for him, but he was focused on marking the pale skin of Davey's neck. Davey moaned as Jack mouthed along his collarbone. He unbuttoned the top buttons of Davey's shirt so he could kiss more of his smooth skin. Jack sucked a bruise just below the collar of Davey's shirt. Davey was squirming, clutching at Jack and moaning. Jack never wanted to hear any other sound.

Jack went back to his lips, kissing him like he'd die if he didn't. Jack thought maybe he actually would die if he stopped kissing Davey. Davey was gasping and moaning into Jack's mouth, his hands moving restlessly on Jack. He seemed to settle on one hand in Jack's hair, the other on the small of his back. Jack wanted to kiss him till his lips went numb. Instead he trailed kisses back down to Davey's neck. The moment his lips touched Davey's skin, Davey pulled at his hair. Jack groaned, his attention narrowing down entirely to Davey and his neck and the feeling of his hands in Jack’a hair.

Jack's nimble fingers unbuttoned the rest of Davey's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and to the floor. Jack traced his fingers up Davey's spine causing him to arch forward into Jack.

Jack pressed Davey harder against the wall, determined to mark his neck with kisses and bruises. Jack didn't hold back, attacking Davey's neck. His teeth grazed the soft skin and his tongue soothed the sting. Davey was gasping, his nails digging into Jack's shoulders, sure to leave marks. Jack wanted to hear him moan again. His hand moved to Davey's waistband, one finger working at his button-

"My god, please, stop for a second."

Jack flew away from Davey. Davey yelped and stumbled away from the wall, breathing hard. His face was flushed and his hair was a mess.

"Calm down, it's just me."

Jack spun around, his chest heaving. "Crutchie! What the hell? Why aren't you asleep?"

Crutchie was standing in the hall, his hand half covering his face. "It's hard to sleep when you two are crashing around in here.

"Uh, we weren't-" Jack started.

Crutchie stopped him. "You're literally standing here shirtless. David has a killer hickey. You can't back out of this."

Davey groaned. "I guess I should introduce myself." He extended a hand to Crutchie, his face burning. "I'm Davey. Maybe you remember me? Sorry for the lack of shirt."

Crutchie shook his hand. "I don't mind but please, keep it down."

Jack promised they would. Crutchie looked satisfied enough and disappeared back into his room.

Jack turned to Davey and groaned immediately. "I'm so sorry, I thought he was asleep."

Davey half laughed. "No, it's fine, I just wasn't expecting him to show up. I hope it was a good first impression."

Jack gave him a pained smile. "It's getting pretty late. You can stay here for the night, I don't want you walking alone."

Davey considered it. "I'd like that a lot, actually, thank you. Do you have a shirt I can wear?"

Jack held up a finger. He fumbled around the living room till he found his own shirt that Davey had flung. "This work?" He asked.

Davey sighed. "Yeah." He pulled it on. Jack had to focus very hard at not laughing about his half-naked chest.

Jack grabbed Davey's hand, playing with his fingers for a moment. Now that they weren't kissing, everything felt much more subdued. Jack's heart was fluttering. He pulled Davey closer, his hand on his shoulder. He kissed him once, softer and sweeter than he had before. There was no desperation or fear of rejection. Davey kissed him back just as gently, his hands on Jack's hips.

Davey pulled away after a long moment, his forehead still against Jack's. "It's late. We should sleep."

Jack pouted but pulled Davey to his room. He knocked the door shut behind him with his hip, already reaching for Davey.

Davey let Jack kiss him, stepping backwards as Jack stepped closer. Davey's legs hit the bed and he stumbled, falling back onto the mattress. Jack didn't even break the kiss, falling on top of Davey on the bed. Davey kissed him a moment longer before pulling away again. Jack whined.

"Get ready for bed." He said softly.

Jack pulled himself off Davey in the most dramatic way he could. He rummaged through his drawers till he found a shirt and put it on. Davey moved to lay on half of the bed. Jack laid next to him, pulling the blankets up.

Davey rolled and draped an arm across Jack's waist. His head was against Jack's chest. Jack felt very warm and very content. He could feel Davey's breathing slow, and his slowed too. He drifted off into sleep, happier than he thought he could be.

Jack was warm and content when he woke up. He was closer to Davey than he ever thought he'd be lucky enough to be. Davey's back was pressed against Jack's chest. Jack wasn't even sure which legs belonged to who, they were so tangled. Davey's hand held his where his arm was slung over Davey's waist.

Jack laid perfectly still, savoring the warmth. He didn't know how Davey would react when he woke up. He hoped Davey wouldn't be too angry.

Davey shifted against him. His soft breathing faltered, his legs stretching. He was waking up. Jack froze. Davey moved more, pulling away from Jack's chest. Jack felt his heart drop. Davey stopped and rolled, Jack's arm still over his waist.

Davey was awake and staring at Jack with his brilliant blue eyes. His features were still soft with sleep. He was almost smiling at Jack. "Hi," he whispered, his voice rough with sleep.

"Hi," Jack whispered back, his voice barely functioning. He was focusing all of his functions on Davey.

Davey, who'd decided to move closer again. He leaned back into Jack's chest. Jack felt his heartbeat pound harder against his ribcage. Davey was moving slowly but purposefully. Jack could feel Davey's breath hitting his collarbone. His lips followed a moment later. Jack gasped a little bit. Davey's lips were warm on his neck. He did not want to get out of bed ever again if he could have the feeling of Davey's lips on his neck.

Everything felt a little bit unreal. Jack's entire world was hyper-focused on Davey. His skin felt hot where Davey touched it.

Jack shifted to give Davey better access. Davey didn't need more prompting. His lips moved across Jack's neck. Jack gasped at the feeling. He wasn't half asleep anymore. Davey's insistent kisses demanded Jack's full attention.

Davey pressed closer, his hands flat on Jack's chest. He pushed a little bit, gently coaxing Jack onto his back. Jack went willingly, his heart pounding hard where Davey's lips were.

Davey straddled Jack with grace that was unfair of someone so early in the morning. His hands skimmed Jack's sides, pushing up Jack's shirt to reveal his ribs. Jack's back arched a little when Davey touched his chest. His hand was warm and light on Jack's side. Davey bit lightly at Jack's collarbone, grinning against his skin when Jack moaned.

Davey sat up, finally giving Jack's neck a break. He reached for Jack's shirt to pull it off. Davey froze.

"You okay?" Jack managed, his voice rough from sleep and Davey's touch.

Davey grinned at him. "This is the shirt you were wearing when we met." He was laughing.

Jack glanced down. Davey was right, it was his Arty Hard v-neck. "I sleep in this!" he protested weakly. "I get hot at night."

Davey was still in his lap, laughing. He snorted a little bit, the noise driving himself further to the edge. Davey moved off of Jack, curling in on himself on the bed. He was wheezing for breath, helpless laughs escaping each time he dared to look at Jack.

Jack felt his face stretch into a grin. He swatted playfully at Davey. "Stop! You're being unfair."

Davey managed to stop laughing long enough to talk to Jack. "I’m sorry, it's just, who wears that to a club?" He had tears in his eyes.

"I do, when Race and Crutchie dress me." Jack was whining.

Davey finally calmed down. "I'm going to have to thank them."

Jack groaned. "Can't we just kiss and pretend they have nothing to do with this?"

"I’m sorry, Jack, I can't kiss you if you're wearing that shirt."

"This wasn't a problem earlier!" Jack whined.

Davey looked sympathetic to his cause. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Jack’s stomach growled as if on cue. “A little bit. What time is it?”

Davey looked at his clock. “Almost eleven.”

Jack grinned at him. “Race will make pancakes if we ask him nicely.”

“Your friends are interesting,” Davey said, moving so his legs were hanging off the side of the bed.

Jack sat up and draped himself across Davey’s back. “You can meet them later. I want food now.”

Jack moved away from Davey and stood, pulling him upright. The smell of pancakes hit Jack’s nose the moment he opened his bedroom door.

“Good morning you two,” Race said, turning from the stove. He was wearing his Kiss The Cook apron and holding a spatula. “You must be David.”

Davey stepped forward, his hand extended. “And you’re Race?”

Race shook his hand, grinning. “I hope you like pancakes.”

Jack sat down at the table next to Crutchie. Crutchie was wiggling his eyebrows at Jack.

“Stop that,” Jack hissed at him. Race and Davey were talking excitedly to each other while Race made pancakes.

“Stop what?” Crutchie asked innocently, still doing it.

“Nothing happened,” Jack said, answering the question Crutchie wasn’t asking aloud.

“Sure. Tell that to your matching hickies.”

Jack’s hand went to his neck. He hadn’t realized Davey had marked him at all. His face felt hot. “Don’t freak him out.”

Crutchie held his hands up. “I would never. Besides, I think he likes Race.”

Jack turned in his seat to check on the two. Race was pouring the pancake batter into a (hopefully) empty ketchup bottle.

“What are you two doing?” Jack asked.

“Pancake art,” Race answered, scraping at the last of the batter.

“We are going to remake historically accurate aspects of Dresden,” Davey explained.

“I’m making a bomb,” Race added.

Jack turned back around in his seat. Crutchie was looking at him with an ‘I told you so’ face. Jack stuck his tongue out at him.

Race and Davey finished the pancakes quickly. Crutchie and Jack oohed and aahed as they presented each creation. They let Jack finish off the batter. He attempted to make a pancake Davey but ended up with a lopsided smiley pancake.

Davey chatted politely with Race and Crutchie the entire time. They all seemed to get along very well. Jack was pleased. Their little breakfast was done much sooner than Jack would have liked.

“I have to get back to my dorm and make sure my roommate knows I’m alive,” Davey said, standing.

Jack stood with him, carrying their dished to the sink. “So soon?”

Davey nodded, frowning at Jack. “I’ve been here all night.”

Jack walked him to the door. Davey grabbed his shoes then stopped. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Is this it?” Race asked. He picked a shirt up from the side of the couch. He was grinning.

“Yeah, toss it,” Davey caught the shirt. “Thank you.” He pulled Jack’s shirt off and put his own on quickly. Jack watched him sadly as he tugged his shoes on too.

“You really have to go?” Jack whined.

Davey stood. He leaned in and kissed Jack lightly, just once. Jack whined more. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Jack grabbed his hand before he left. He tangled their fingers again, idly playing with Davey’s hand. “I’ll miss you.”

Davey smiled. He kissed Jack one more time and let himself out.

“Jack, holy shit.” Crutchie said the moment Davey was gone. “I don’t remember him being that pretty.”

Jack groaned, sitting down with Race and Crutchie again. “I know. He’s going to kill me, I’m so happy.”

Race dumped more syrup on a pancake, adding whipped cream and sprinkles. He slid the plate to Jack. “Congratulations, my guy.”

Jack dug into the pancakes, eating as he spoke. “He came over to apologize for snapping at me. Then he sort of kissed me? And kept kissing me, and-”

“Alright we get it,” Race interrupted.

Jack was beaming. “We haven't even finished our paper yet, we’ll have to see each other this week.”

“I'm so proud of you.” Crutchie hugged Jack, smiling almost as hard as he was. “Just never keep me awake because you're making out with him again.”

Jack laughed. “I can't make any promises.”

Jack met with Davey nine hours later back at his apartment. He had a huge bag of books and his laptop, ready to work.

Jack was not in the mood to work. The moment Davey was inside he pulled him in for a kiss.

"Hey," Davey had protested, pulling away. "We have research to do."

"Race and Crutchie are gone," Jack said like that was an excuse. Davey acted like it was one. He kissed Jack, his lips softer than Jack thought they had a right to be.

They didn't get any work done that day.

After that they started meeting in crowded and public places. They found it was the only way they could keep away from each other long enough to get their work done

Even then they struggled. Short breaks turned into frantic kisses in the more deserted part of the library, their work forgotten entirely.

Davey ended up at Jack's apartment the night before the due date. They both stayed up all night typing frantically. Sure, Davey's planning was meticulous, but Jack decided after each paragraph he could be rewarded with a kiss. Of course, it never stopped at one. So Jack and Davey stayed up all night to finish.

Jack made them coffee in the morning and practically pulled Davey to the classroom. He had their paper clutched in his hand, beyond ready to turn it in. Jack sat next to Davey during the entire lecture. He tangled their fingers together and played with Davey’s hand. He would trace Davey’s palm and knuckles, stopping only when Davey needed his hand to grab something.

The moment it was done Jack darted to turn in their paper. The professor took it without comment, just a small smile to the two of them. Davey was beaming, as their paper was considerably more pages than the rest of them.

"I can't believe we did that," Davey breathed as they left the classroom.

Jack grabbed his hand, swinging it between them. "Damn right we did. He's going to be blown away, that was the best paper ever."

"Even though we finished it at about five this morning," Davey pointed out.

Jack affectionately head butted his shoulder. "We did it though. And when we get an amazing score, we can celebrate."

Davey grinned at him. "Oh yeah, and maybe I'll show you an improved version of what I did at the club. More personal.”

Jack flushed red and dragged Davey the rest of the way to his apartment. They spent the entire night tangled up together, forgetting the paper entirely.

They checked the grade together the next day. A 98%.

"You know what that means," Davey said to him, closing the laptop. His lips were on Jack's before he could even answer.

Jack had never been so happy about his friends dragging him away from one of his paintings for a lap dance.

[calpatine]

Accidentally in Love

A Comedy of Errors in Exothermic Reactions

Pairing: Cullen/f!Trevelyan Rating: SFW this chapter, but warnings for a liberal application of swear words. Summary: Modern AU, inspired by too much Real Genius and too many romcoms. Evelyn Trevelyan, a PhD candidate and all-around science nerd, meets Cullen Rutherford, a civil engineering major on the GI Bill, when he shows up for her tutoring session. If Evie didn't have bad luck, she'd have no luck at all. Notes: So the reason why I do not write fic is because fic is HARD and I am LAZY.  But I do get things done eventually!  Thanks for sticking around, I appreciate it.  Chapter artwork here by the incomparable @feylen, who is an infinite delight.

(Previous Chapter) (AO3)

Chapter 2: Good to Be Alive (Hallelujah)

Evelyn had made it halfway through her first lecture Friday morning before she had the horrified realization that while she'd given Cullen her number, she'd completely neglected to ask for his -- and that was, of course, a complete catastrophe. At the break, she immediately pushed her way into the hallway and called Varric.

He picked up right before it went to voicemail. "God's balls, do you know what time it is?"

Unfortunately for him, she had no time for any whining that wasn't hers. "Varric, you have to help me."

"Are you literally on fire?" She heard a rustling noise that may or may not have been Varric making rude gestures at the phone. "Because unless you are literally on fire, I don't have to do anything at eight thirty in the fucking morning." She was almost positive he was indeed making rude gestures at the phone.

She tapped her fingers on the railing in front of her. "You have Cullen's number, right? Of course you have Cullen's number. You have everyone's number. You have to give it to me."

"Well, princess, I believe you will find that to be false."

"Wait, what?" Evelyn pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to stare at the display and make sure she hadn't called someone else by mistake because surely the real Varric would never let her down like this. "Why not?"

"He has your number, right?"

"Yeah?"

"And you're doing dinner tomorrow?"

"Yeah." She switched ears, flipping the phone around just to have something to do with her hands, and heard him sigh.

"That means if I give you his number now, you will spend the next thirty hours sending him increasingly unhinged and ridiculous texts while you try to psych yourself out of hooking up with a dude who seems nice and would probably be pretty good for you."

Evelyn was quiet for a moment and let that sink in. "Not all thirty," she finally said. "I'd sleep somewhere in there."

"Princess. Breathe. Calm the hell down. Don't you have lab today? Go to lab, forget about this for now."

The sheer sterility of the hallway mocked her with a blank canvas of everything that could possibly go wrong. "But what if --"

"No. Stop. Go bang some atoms together, and maybe if you ask really nicely someone tall, blond, and curly will bang your atoms together later on."

"Varric!" She burst into laughter so sudden and unexpected that a passerby was startled into asking if she was all right and had to be shooed away. "That's horrible!"

"There, see? Isn't that much better?"

"Actually yes, yes it is," Evelyn said after a moment, pleased to discover that this was totally true. She still wanted that number, but she felt much less like a raving freak about it. "You're a good friend, Varric."

"It's my job to save you from yourself, princess. Now go do your thing and do not ever, ever call me before ten o'clock ever again."

She couldn't resist a final jab. "What if I'm literally on fire?"

"Unless you're literally on fire."

"Thanks, man. Love you."

"Back atcha, princess."

Evelyn swiped the call off and slid the phone back into her pocket, then did her best to make it to the lab without worrying about big brown eyes and how catastrophically poorly their dinner date could possibly go. She'd already done everything but spill something directly on him, so surely that was the worst possible thing that could happen and since that wasn't entirely that bad, she could totally stop worrying.

That logic was actually successful for quite some time, even through her lab work, dinner, and an evening curled up with a draft of her dissertation notes. It took some personal convincing to not needle Varric again the next morning, but she buried herself in work even though it would totally have been worth it to call him at eight again. In fact, she was focused enough on her research that when the default message chime on her phone went off around lunchtime she was startled into frowning at the unknown number. Evelyn had carefully selected different chimes for every member of her social circle so default usually meant random solicitation, but when she swiped the phone on she had to stare at the text for a few moments.

H = E + p V

If that was an ad, it was the strangest one she'd ever seen. In fact, it looked less like some kind of scam and more like the formula for enthalpy, and why some unknown number would be texting her thermodynamic functions --

Her train of thought fragmented into a bubbling, delighted laugh, and she immediately added the new contact and thumbed out a reply.thrmodymnics! obvs thinkin of me :D

It was some time before a reply buzzed back, but when she read the message she understood why. Working on coursework on break, was reading through your notes and wanted to say hello. I'm really looking forward to seeing you tonight. Absolutely perfect spelling and grammar in a text message, and she'd seen his phone; that thing was a flip phone, for god's sake, so ancient it didn't even have a real keyboard and probably took him a million years to type on it. It was a little thing, but definitely flattering.

Also, he was looking forward to seeing her again, which was more than just flattering. me 2! hahahahahahaaah varic can suck it :D :D she sent back. Limiting herself to only two emoticons was a triumph of will, but Evelyn still stared hard at her phone for what seemed like forever to resist the urge to send even more.

The cheerful Cullen-assigned chime rang again just before Evelyn was about to snap and send a series of smileyfaces of varying hues and expressions just to break the tension. Sorry, I have to go back to work. Is it still good for me to come by around seven?

def look 4wrd 2 it she sent back, and then immediately set her phone aside before she could go off on one of the unhinged tangents Varric warned her against. She eyed the clock; seven meant she had time to change her clothes at least four times and do her makeup twice. It was always best to approach second-guessing one's self logically and with decent limits.

That was where her roommate found her at t-minus fifteen minutes amidst the wreckage of her closet. "Holy mighty fuck, have we been robbed?"

"No," Evelyn said miserably. "I have a date."

Sera's eyes narrowed. "You look like shite. Do I gotta stab somebody or something to get you out of it?"

Evelyn shook her head. "No! No, it's not that. It's just... I couldn't decide where to make reservations for, and then I thought maybe dropping right into a place that needed reservations wasn't the best idea for a first date even though you know how I feel about candles and wine." She shrugged, a weak flick of a movement that echoed her utter defeat. "But without knowing where I was taking him I couldn't get dressed, and then I ripped up my closet thinking I'd find something and that would decide me on dinner, and now I'm babbling in my underwear and he will be here any minute and my life is endless tragedy."

"Just go down there with your tits hanging out and you'll have him eating out of your hand, yeah?" For Sera, the world was very simple. Evelyn, however, responded with an affected side-eye that had Sera throwing up her hands in disgust. "Oh, for fuck's sake." She waded through the pile of clothing detritus and flung her choices into Evelyn's lap. "These jeans make your arse look amazing; keep the top three buttons on the shirt open for some acceptable tit action. Order in some decent pizza, mainline Netflix, and light your own fucking candles. God, Evie."

Evelyn's sense of relief was a physical thing. "Oh my god, you're brilliant."

Sera just rolled her eyes and skipped down the stairs to her basement apartment, muttering under her breath about smart people with no goddamned sense.

A quick shimmy into the directed jeans, some eyeliner, and a call to Fino's for an extra-large pepperoni later, the doorbell rang and the only thing that saved Evelyn from skidding around the corner and into the wall in her haste was actually having remembered to fasten the straps on her shoes. She swung the door open a little too forcefully, still in the process of catching her breath, and almost sagged against the jam. "Hey," she said, trying for exaggerated calm.

Cullen had brought flowers. He was in a tie, again, and carrying flowers, a bouquet of daffodils and carnations. "Hi," he said with that quirked half-smile that made her breath catch, and she giggled like an over-shy idiot before covering her mouth to try and keep it together as he held the flowers out to her. "Thanks for not screaming this time."

Evelyn took the flowers and held the door open, gesturing for him to come in. "These are beautiful. You're not going to let me live that one down, are you?"

"Would you, if you were me?" He grinned at her, flashing a dimple and, to Evelyn's mind, playing dirty. "It was pretty memorable."

She made a disappointed noise as she wandered into the kitchen, Cullen following behind like a particularly tall and well-built duckling as she stretched on tiptoes to get a vase off the top shelf. "'Memorable' is not precisely what a girl dreams a cute boy is going to call her, you know."

Cullen reached over her shoulder and pulled it down easily, presenting it with a flourish. "You surely don't prefer forgettable? But I could come up with an entire host of adjectives if you'd like." She looked up and could have sworn that he was blushing, and he was definitely doing that thing with his hair again. "I've been thinking about it. A little. Maybe. Just these past couple of days or so."

"I'm terrible with adjectives, so you can help me out over dinner." Evelyn carried the vase, now festooned with flowers, out to the dining table and placed it carefully and precisely in the center alongside a steaming pizza box. "And I hope you are cool with Fino's pepperoni because as of twenty minutes ago I didn't even have pants on."

"Fino's delivers? That's amazing! I will never buy groceries again. And you know, I'm going to keep talking about how amazing Fino's is because it is much too soon for me to think about you not wearing pants." It was definite: Cullen was blushing, and as Evelyn turned to lay out plates on the table she saw his eyes keep snapping away from her to stare fixedly at the ceiling. Well, at least Sera had been right about the jeans.

"They don't actually deliver," Evelyn said with a grin. "But I just give them Varric's name and they fall all over themselves. It's amazing. I make a damn fine pizza, but I only just came up with this idea and that isn't enough time for the dough to rise. Have a seat."

Cullen slid into the same chair he'd claimed for poker night, and Evelyn fetched Varric's shiraz bribe and a pair of glasses. When she started to pour, he shook his head. "Oh, no thank you. I don't drink."

She stared for a minute and then very slowly slid both glasses in front of her own plate. "Don't you work in a bar?"

"I work at the door, not behind the actual bar." He cleared his throat and helped himself to pizza. "For what it's worth, that's only one job. I also do some training at the gym on campus and volunteer at the VA twice a week alongside the monthly reservist duties."

"The VA? You're a vet?"

He grinned at her, nothing more than a quirk of that scarred lip, and Evelyn felt her stomach drop. "Really? That's the part you focus on?"

Evelyn saluted him with her wine glass. "I need to think about your biceps probably much the same way you need to think about my pants. The vet thing is way safer, trust me."

With a smiling nod, he conceded her point. "I joined the army right out of high school, and did three tours in Afghanistan."

Well, that answered one of Evelyn's mathematical puzzles. "And that's why you're not a teeny little freshman in Chem 101."

"That's why I'm not a teeny little freshman in Chem 101." He shrugged. "Well, I was never really teeny, even when I was little."

"Three tours, though?" She cocked her head a little, looking him over. "Jesus."

Cullen shrugged. "It was always something I wanted to do, even as a kid. Protecting people, serving the country -- it was a dream. And I kept going back because I still believed in that, even when it didn't turn out the way I expected." he kept his eyes down on his plate, only occasionally flicking his gaze up over her head, past her shoulder -- anywhere but her face. "What about you?"

Evelyn allowed the subject change because even she knew better than to pry at something so obviously uncomfortable on a first date. "Oh, I blew up part of the cellar when I was six and I haven't been out of the interesting classes in school since," she said with an airy wave, like massive explosions were no big deal. "Eventually I'll finish up my dissertation and have to decide what I want to be when I grow up, but until then chemistry tutoring is serving me pretty well."

They continued on in that vein through dinner, covering all the bases of small talk: he was in Civil Engineering, and she was in Theoretical Physics; they both had three siblings, though she had two brothers and him two sisters; his family still enjoyed tangible physical correspondence and sent letters once a week, and she had her mother's ringtone set to the Imperial March.

Cullen threw back his head and laughed, that dimple flashing again and the briefly uncomfortable moment was long gone like it'd never been. "Oh come on, she can't be that bad."

Evelyn made a face, turning down the corners of her mouth. "I'm not saying Talky Tina would trip her down the stairs or anything, but even Varric is scared of her."

He froze, and for a nanosecond she was afraid she'd said something inadvertently horrible. "Evie, did you just make a Twilight Zone reference?"

Her jaw dropped. "Did you just get my Twilight Zone reference?"

"Of course! Living Doll, Telly Savalas." His grin was boyish and infectious, and Evelyn thought it was so glorious the only thing missing was its own swellingly triumphant musical score. "Man, I haven't seen those since they were airing them on PBS when I was a kid."

Oh, there was no way Evelyn was going to let that go, not when Netflix was available. "You're kidding. Come on, get your pizza, we're moving this to the living room and we are going to get our Rod Serling on." Evelyn exchanged her bottle of shiraz for two bottles of water and the living room remote, and they settled on the couch side-by-side to start up their old-school marathon. "Time Enough At Last is my favorite," she murmured as though imparting some profound and precious secret.

"Time Enough At Last is everyone's favorite," Cullen said, laughing, and she chucked him in the shoulder.

Hours flew by as they bonded over 1960s visions of the future, taking turns pointing out unrecognizably young actors in early roles and swapping childhood PBS memories. They had gradually shifted closer over the evening until their thighs were pressed together and every nerve ending on that side of Evelyn's body felt like they were on overdrive.

He had a way of looking directly at her while they were talking as though even the most inconsequential bullshit was interesting and important and the feeling of his regard was a weighty thing that felt not unlike a liquor buzz. It was so easy to meet his eyes and drown in that unfairly long-lashed gaze that she didn't even realize she'd been staring at him until he broke off mid-sentence to furrow his eyebrows at her. "What?"

Evelyn wanted desperately to play this cool. Her coolness was vital and paramount because Varric had an actual literal notebook of all of the ways her coolness had inevitably failed her in past relationships and this was too awesome to fuck up. Unfortunately, her small mental voice of social self-preservation was entirely silent, and so what came out of her mouth was the complete and unvarnished truth: "I would really like to kiss you right now."

Cullen's grin made her blood pound, holding as it did equal parts relief and trepidation. "Oh, thank god." Then his hand slid to the back of her neck, tangled in her hair, and pulled her close for a kiss that fuzzed out every last neuron.

Evelyn wasn't entirely sure when, exactly, she'd made the move to straddle his lap on the sofa, her hips bracketing his and kisses progressing to moaned featherings along his jaw; nor, really was she entirely aware of when she'd started unbuttoning her shirt, with his broad hands on her waist and thumbs stroking the bared skin over her hipbones, though it was probably about the same time his tie had come loose. She was, however, completely aware of when everything came to a screeching halt: when her roommate decided to surface from the depths of her studio and declare, brightly, "Well thank fuck you wore the pretty bra."

She and Cullen jumped apart like guilty teenagers, his sharp move to the right tangling up with hers to the left and sending her sliding gracelessly to the floor. "My god, are you all right?" He reached down for her, expression utterly mortified and the tips of his ears singed red. With an aborted laugh that he shifted to a throat clearing, he gave her hand a gentle tug. "So, uh, you have a roommate?"

Evelyn held her shirt closed with one hand and pulled herself up with the other, eyes screwed tightly shut. "Is she gone?" she stage-whispered. "Yes, I have a roommate, because I am a sucker who hates living alone. Tell me she's gone, or this is a horrible nightmare that I will wake up from at any second." She cracked one eye open and grinned at him. "Well. Not the kissing part. That was more dreamy than nightmarey."

"I'm in the kitchen and I'm seeing nothing," Sera sang back with a brassy cackle and a clatter of glassware. "And now I am leaving, so you can go back to slobbering!"

Cullen glanced at the clock over the television and ruffled his hand through his hair with a sigh, embarrassed amusement still stark on his face. "I don't mean to compromise your dignity and flee the scene of our crime, but I do have to be at work in four hours."

Evelyn rebuttoned her shirt with still-fumbly fingers, not even caring that the right side was jumped up a buttonhole. "You're fine. My dignity fled years ago, just ask Varric." She paused, reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. "Or, actually, don't. Let me keep some of my mystique."

They walked down the hallway to the foyer hand in hand, and it was interesting to feel comfortable, safe, and also like her blood was on fire. She didn't want to open the door, but couldn't think of a respectable way to suggest he stay, preferably in her bedroom and preferably with that tie on the floor or employed in a vastly more interesting way. "Cullen," Evelyn started hesitantly. "This is going to sound a little strange, but do you own a tuxedo?"

He was quiet for a long minute. "Something like. Why?"

Evelyn tightened her grip on his hand for a moment, then released it. "I need you to be my date at a wedding, but it's white tie and it's also total bullshit."

"Of course," Cullen said immediately, not even batting an eye at her claim of bullshit. "When?"

"Um." She winced. "Next weekend?"

"Are you serious?" he asked, staring at her with raised eyebrows.

"Deadly," Evelyn said, and couldn't keep every hint of dread out of her voice. "Varric already refused to go with me. I can't go alone or my mother will try and hook me up with someone and I am the most not interested in that."

Cullen cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, running a hand sheepishly through his mussed hair. "To be honest I find I'm not really interested in that either. Who's getting married?"

"My elder sister," she said, so pleased by even the most minor strains of reciprocal jealousy that she had to firmly hold the reins of her id before it did something stupid like ask him if he liked her liked her.

Cullen frowned, and Evelyn had another second to mentally catalog the differences between their respective familial feelings. "And you're not in the wedding?"

"Oh good god, no." She shuddered, mouth curled in exaggerated distaste. Were Sera still upstairs, Evelyn probably would have made a gagging noise to go with it just to make her laugh. "There's a week of parties with twee little cucumber sandwiches and Great Aunt Muffy and second cousins in fancy hats and I couldn't spend that much time away from the lab, so they let me off the hook for the pre-wedding crap. Just ceremony and reception, next Saturday night."

"You don't seriously have a Great Aunt Muffy," he said with a laugh. "Evie, no one seriously has a Great Aunt Muffy."

She shook her head. "No, I totally, totally do, but she's a blue-haired terror and I can't talk about her or you'll say no. I know it's last-minute and you have eleven million jobs but please say you'll come. I will personally..." Evelyn broke off, wracking her brain for something she could do to make this work. "...Get Varric to bribe someone to cover your shifts," was the best she could come up with. His loosened tie and that little triangle of skin at his throat were completely melting her brain. "Or -- whatever you need. I can't face this without someone sane and excruciatingly handsome with me."

His eyebrows flew up again in time with his deepening dimple in a self-satisfied grin. "You know you just said that out loud."

"Of course I did. I'm desperate." Evelyn shrugged, and it was her turn to look sheepish. "Look, I'll be real: it's probably going to suck, and I'm sure it's technically too soon to subject you to my family at all, let alone my family in white tie, but I promise I will make it up to you."

Cullen reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, trailing his fingertips along her cheekbone with a tantalizing gentleness that made her shiver. "I'll call in some favors. All day Saturday?" When she nodded, he leaned down and kissed her forehead like a blessing. "Please believe me when I say I am happy to spend any and all time with you."

She grabbed his tie and pulled him down for a searing kiss that might as well have made time stop entirely, and when they finally broke apart they were both having trouble catching their breath. "I had a really nice time tonight, Cullen," Evelyn said with a quiet earnestness that right before that exact moment she was pretty sure she didn't even possess. "Thank you for coming." A split-second after the words left her mouth she froze and tripped over her own tongue. "Over. Thank you for coming over. To my house. For dinner."

When he laughed, his entire face lit up and Evelyn decided then and there that it would be one of her life's missions to flip that switch whenever she could. "I knew what you meant," he murmured, and kissed her lightly in a sweet goodbye. "I'll see you Thursday?"

"Yes, Thursday," Evelyn said. "I promise not to stalk you before then, but I will probably text you eighty billion times. You have my permission to ignore me, I've seen your phone."

Cullen grinned down at her and Evelyn fought the urge to preen like a cat. "I'll see what I can do. Sleep well, Evie."

Evelyn gave up trying to play it cool and blew him a kiss like a dork as he turned to wave at the end of her drive. Oh yeah, she was definitely going to sleep well, with the best dreams.

[latestnews2018-blog]

There Were Zero Things Better This Week Than Beto O'Rourke's Post-Hardcore Band

New Post has been published on https://latestnews2018.com/there-were-zero-things-better-this-week-than-beto-orourkes-post-hardcore-band/

There Were Zero Things Better This Week Than Beto O'Rourke's Post-Hardcore Band

Welcome to Good Stuff, HuffPost’s weekly recommendation series devoted to the least bad things on and off the internet.  

The single greatest thing I learned this week is that Beto O’Rourke, the Texas Democratic challenger to Ted Cruz for his Senate seat, once played bass in a post-hardcore band called Foss with one Cedric Bixler-Zavala on drums. And he kind of went hard? Harder than Mike Huckabee anyway.

If you don’t know Bixler-Zavala’s name, you will not care, and I don’t blame you. But for the small contingent of us who do, it is the single most random thing ever. By far. No competition. HOLY MOLY I’M GETTING EXCITED ALL OVER AGAIN. WHAT!?!? 

Bixler-Zavala would go on after Foss to become the lead singer of two bands that defined my childhood, the Mars Volta and At the Drive-In, making this a perfect melding of my teenage self and whatever the hell you would call my current state. ― Maxwell Strachan

“Kim’s Convenience”

Between “Crazy Rich Asians” and “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before,” August has been such a landmark month for pop culture featuring three-dimensional portrayals of Asians that there’s a hashtag for it: #AsianAugust. (If you haven’t seen either of those, go do that!)

“Searching,” a thriller starring John Cho, the first Asian-American actor to headline a mainstream, modern movie in that genre, joins the party this weekend before rolling out to more cities next Friday.

And don’t sleep on “Kim’s Convenience,” a Canadian sitcom about a working-class Korean-Canadian family that premiered in 2016 but is now available in the U.S. on Netflix, which added it in July. In between reveling in how wonderful “Crazy Rich Asians” and “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before” were, I watched a few episodes last weekend and was immediately hooked. It will definitely be relatable to anyone who comes from an immigrant family. But it also has the classic conventions of any great, slice-of-life family sitcom, with endearing characters and an abundance of irreverent jokes. ― Marina Fang

My Colleague’s Love For “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before”

On the evening of Tuesday, Aug. 17, my colleague and dear friend Claire Fallon watched “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before” for the first time. “It fucking wrecked me,” she tweeted of the now-beloved Netflix rom-com. By the time I saw her at work the next morning, Claire had watched “TATBILB” three times already. She seemed… different. There was a twinkle in her eye, a bounce in her step — the unmistakable signs of a woman in love.

Claire confirmed as much with her bombshell story: “Report: I’m in Love With Netflix’s ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before,’” and she didn’t stop there. She RTed every article horny for the film’s romantic male lead, Peter Kavinsky, adding commentary like “i am hurting myself every time i watch it and realize he isn’t real.”

Before long, Claire’s husband was drawn into the fold. “They say you should include your partner in your fantasy life so I made my husband watch to all the boys I’ve loved before with me,” she tweeted on Aug. 18, a time she would later describe as “the most romantic weekend” of her life. This marked her fifth viewing of the film and potentially, I foolishly thought, her last.

Claire is now up to 10 viewings and shows no sign of slowing down. On Monday and Tuesday, when she normally live-tweets “Bachelor in Paradise,” Claire instead posted six GIFs of Peter Kavinsky — in a hot tub, on a school bus, smiling all sexy in a bathrobe. Where am I supposed to get my snarky “Bachelor” commentary now, Claire?! Her obsession became my obsession. Thanks to Claire, I now find myself talking incessantly about a movie I haven’t even seen, filtered through the lovesick gaze of my talented co-worker.

“If you’re wondering, i did watch it last night,” Claire slacked me today, unprompted. “I do little else.” If this post was a rom-com, this is the part where I’d declare my love for Claire and suggest that instead of Peter Kavinsky she take notice of the girl working at the desk across from her all along — fave-ing her tweets, offering her goldfish, casually suggesting they open the mail together. But it’s not, and Claire is married and I have more journalistic ethics than that! ― Priscilla Frank

The Greatest Sentence In The History Of Language

This was a bad week ― all weeks, now, are bad ― but at least we were blessed with one of the great sentences in the history of language.

“Suck my dick and balls I’m working at NASA” is a literary delight, nine words strung together so perfectly that there’s no way to misread them or misinterpret the emotion they intend to convey. The person who wrote them, who had the misfortune of directing them toward someone who oversees NASA, apparently lost out on an internship opportunity at the space-exploring government agency. This is a shame, not just because no one should be fired over a tweet but especially because no one should ever be fired after penning such a beautiful tweet.

Homer Hickam, the former NASA engineer who was best known for writing “Rocket Boys” but will now enter history as the man who elicited the greatest piece of writing humankind has ever produced, is apparently helping our glorious author find an even better opportunity in the aerospace field. But the real hope here is that one day our dear friend ascends to the top of NASA, resumes the shuttle program or some other form of space exploration, and paints our new motto on the side of whatever sort of craft eventually finds other forms of life out there, so that our newfound alien friends’ first brush with the English language is the English language in all its glory. And if we’re not going to cure cancer or solve climate change or find aliens or do any of the other cool shit science is probably capable of, we should put all of our resources and expertise into finding a way to project “Suck my dick and balls I’m working at NASA” onto the moon. ― Travis Waldron

Temi Oni’s Latest Poem

I see a lot of my experience in Temi Oni’s latest poem. I walk a lot. I’m catcalled far too frequently. I’m always minding my business. I’ve been hit on by teenagers, men my age, men my father’s age, men his father’s age. I’ve been asked if I suck dick, if I wanna fuck, if I want a dick in my ass and much worse. My initial silence has agitated the men harassing me to the point of them getting too close — just like Oni’s decision to at first ignore the man who asked her if she sucked dick irked him to the point of walking up on her. Like her, I’ve wonder who the fuck these dudes were talking to. I’ve wished my homies or my man was around because I also have a tendency to fly off the handle when I’ve been disrespected. I size the man up. Sometimes I say something smart, ask him who he’s talking to. Sometimes I don’t say anything at all.

And then, it happens: They threaten to rape you. It freezes you. You want to defend yourself, but you don’t know if you physically can. You want him to die because he thinks it’s funny. You’re paralyzed by your anger, but within moments your guts will churn and you’ll start to realize that you may very well be in danger.

You feel bad for this black person. You want better for them. But you also want to feel safe. As Oni says, seeing the police won’t calm you. Black women are constantly put into compromising positions by black men, but the most harrowing is the decision of whether or not we should sacrifice our own safety for theirs by not calling the police. You don’t want a black person to die at the hands of the police, even though they just threatened to harm you. On the flip side, the police often don’t even see black women as worth saving.

In these moments, I often feel a sense of loneliness that is much deeper than me being harassed while I am literally alone. Whenever a black man has walked up to me on the street or tried anything, no one has ever defended me. People can be around and yet no one does anything. At their best, they ignore it. At their worse, they watch. It induces a rage I still can’t explain, a fear I often feel and a pain that seems generational.

It’s the black woman’s Catch-22. ― Julia Craven

“Support The Girls”

Magnolia Pictures

Lisa (Regina Hall) often reminds people that she works at a “family place,” insofar as the Hooters-type watering hole she manages does not allow the predominantly male clientele to harass waitresses. As it turns out, the establishment is family-like, at least in the way its female staffers protect and fortify one another — a fitting theme for a movie titled “Support the Girls.”

Andrew Bujalski’s new film is one of those indies that comes out of nowhere and lights up the screen, the perfect cap to a wobbly summer. When a sports-bar chain comes to town, the forces of capitalism threaten to nullify Lisa’s mom-and-pop restaurant. The hourly-wage sisters who maintain the Texas joint are doing it for themselves, and they’re lucky to have the patient, affable Lisa as a lodestar amid the careless dudes in their paths. Hall gives an Oscar-worthy performance, delicately screaming into the void alongside Haley Lu Richardson (“Edge of Seventeen”) and Shayna McHayle, better known as the rapper Junglepussy. When she’s finally had enough, Lisa tosses a middle finger to the sky, a rare release for someone who’s burdened herself with always needing to keep it together. We’re right there with her. ― Matthew Jacobs

Bowen Yang

Bowen Yang may not be a household name, but you may as well learn it now.

The comedian and Vulture host became a viral sensation this week after a handful of celebrities — including Chrissy Teigen and Sarah Silverman — tweeted out some of his lip-syncing videos.

Yang has been uploading clips of himself lip-syncing various pop culture moments since May. But his most recent video, of him imitating Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestly in “The Devil Wears Prada” is what has put him on the map. It’s flawless, funny and just a delight to watch. ― Saba Hamedy

Terrific Human Mariska Hargitay

Academy Award-winning actress Hilary Swank got married this week. She looked lovely in Elie Saab with custom Christian Louboutin shoes. Her husband looked dapper. There was a tap dance! The wedding looked like it was ripped right from a high-class Pinterest page. But the best part of Hilary Swank getting married this week was actually Terrific Human Mariska Hargitay.

One of the photos featured in a Vogue gallery on Swank’s wedding shows Hargitay lurking in the background, seemingly holding up Swank’s veil as part of her duties as maid of honor. Swank and Hargitay are known BFFs, but still, could you imagine having Hargitay around on your wedding day? To give you pep talks, or hold up your dress while you pee or dab the sweat off your forehead after dancing too hard? For sure she’d make sure your Champagne hand was never empty. Congratulations on that, Hilary Swank. ― Paige Lavender

The R-Rated Puppet Movie That No One Liked

DAMON DAHLEN/HUFFPOST

Priscilla Frank with her date at a press preview of “The Happytime Murders” on Monday in New York. 

Some critics have deemed “The Happytime Murders” the worst movie of the summer, if not the whole year. Other people, like my colleague Priscilla Frank, have called it “the only movie that mattered, and the only one that ever will.” Listen, I probably won’t see the film, but I will scroll through photos of Priscilla and her Puppet Boyfriend performing nose kisses in an empty theater at least a couple times this weekend. You should, too. ― Katherine Brooks

Christian Covington’s Very Lifelike Madden Character

Guess I have to accept the fact that I’m ugly now…. Say it ain’t so Madden…. smh pic.twitter.com/fTcmitdrEw

— Christian Covington (@thetangibleC4) August 22, 2018

Who knew you could play as Shrek on Madden?

The difference between how Texans DE Christian Covington looks in real life and how he looks on Madden is basically the same as photos you post vs. ones you’re tagged in… if people were to draw faces on garbage cans and tag you in them. And like ogres and onions, this thing has layers: Is it so sweaty because it knows it shouldn’t be here? Does it look like a thumb? Is that mean to thumbs? With all the attention this has gotten after Covington poked fun at it, it’s only a matter of time before Madden tries to take this away from us like a bunch of Farquaads. So before that, farewell sweet prince. Like Shrek, may you live happily forever after. ― Bill Bradley 

Read last week’s Good Stuff.

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[thestickchick]

Here's how my week of training, writing, teaching, and miscellaneous Filipino Martial Arts-y goodness went.

What have you been up to this week? THE WEEK DAY-BY-DAY: Saturday:  Drove up to Lawton, OK (about 2-1/2 hours from my house) to train with friends at Shotokan Karate of Lawton.  I taught them our stick form one, Baston Anyo Isa (and showed applications out of it) and then then worked with me on empty hand sparring. Fun day! Sunday: I slept a lot! Monday:   I worked the day before Independence Day, and classes were canceled that night (our Rec Center was closed). Tuesday:   Independence Day!  Happy birthday, America! Wednesday:   Attended class at Hidden Sword.  Older Daughter has joined Arnis class, at least for the summer, and I can't be happier about it.  Yay! Thursday:   Classes at Mid-Cities Arnis.  I worked with our new kid student in family class on basics, and in adult class, we worked on pelit-pelit drills. Friday:  Stick sparring night at Mid-Cities Arnis.  Introduced our new student to the idea and she was smiling big by the time class was over.  Another extra Friday class practicing forms for competition and my students are coming along nicely.  In sparring earlier, though, I smashed my left pinkie and ring finger pretty good (against the butt end of an Actionflex stick, which is the big downside of using them) and I spent my evening after class in an ice pack to bring down the swelling.  My fingers are pretty badly bruised.

Older Daughter, Mr. Chick, and I at Arnis class Wednesday. 

BLOGGY GOODNESS:

Here's the new posts or reshared older posts I sent out this week: Monday: Four Profound Life Lessons (Learned in the Martial Arts) Tuesday: Freedom Fighting or Treason: How Shifting Perspectives Matter (especially in the Martial Arts). Wednesday: THAT GUY: Whatever Guy Thursday: The Entropy Game Friday: FACE-OFF FRIDAY: Are the Olympics Good for Martial Arts? OTHER STUFF THAT I SAW/DID: This was the comic I posted on my Facebook page this week (oh, have I mentioned it?  You can find it on Facebook at The Stick Chick Blog Facebook Page).  I post stuff there that you won't see elsewhere, and I try to make it a page that's more than just stuff from the blog.  If you're on Facebook, please like and share it.  Anyway, here's the comic, which was originally published HERE:

Yes, yes, it's not a new thing, but I've always enjoyed these riffs on martial arts life   I want to know what you'd add to the list:  You Might Be a Martial Artist If

We actually got picked this week for the now-relatively-famous "Deaf guy wants private lessons for a short period for a family of five, so please charge my credit card" scam, so I'm kinda feeling like a real-deal martial arts teacher now.  By the way, the guy said he got our contact info from Dojo.Info.  More on this scam at +Bamboo Spirit Martial Arts  blog: Martial Arts Email Scam We have Master Rich Parsons coming down to Texas next week to teach Balintawak, and I can't be more excited!  You can learn more at our Facebook event HERE. And finally, I had to update my running "Enough with Sensei Scumbag's Shenanigans!" post, which some pretty bad news coming out of a suburb of my adopted home town (Kansas City, MO).  I really, really hate these guys, and I don't mean it any sort of , "Man, I hate Mondays!" kind of way. I mean it literally and without any qualification.  I hate these people who do this.  I hate that they can get away with it for any period of time in our community.  And I hate that we can't seem to do more about it.

If you run across cool martial arts stuff you think I should see, please do post them in the comments!

FINAL THOUGHTS OF THE WEEK:

Today I have Arnis in the morning, and hey, it's kobudo day and I'm going over to Dallas in the afternoon. I'm going to go up to Hidden Sword early and practice where I have some room, but with my smashed left hand, I think I'm going to be using just my right hand for much of the day (that'll be... fun... when I'm working bo).  I'm going to be gone all day long, again. Today is also Older Daughter's 17th birthday.  She has to work, so we'll be celebrating tomorrow.  I can't believe she's entering her senior year in High School.  It wasn't that long ago that she was this bright eyed smiling little blonde girl saying the f-word on the playground in pure, unbridled joy, as in, "Mom, this is so f-ing fun!". My kid, y'all. So what did YOU do this week?  What did you train? What did you teach?  Did you see any really cool martial arts stuff online?  Let me know!