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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 7)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: mention of vomit, intense physical training, blood blisters

Word Count: 6,829

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

Fifteen minutes later, Jimin pulled to a stop at the edge of the curb.

Stepping from the sidewalk, you hastened to the passenger side and opened the door. Your wait had mostly been uneventful, but you hated standing alone in the dark for any longer than necessary. Sliding into the passenger seat, you pulled the door shut and turned sideways to face him.

“Thanks,” you exhaled, seeing him for the first time tonight.

Jimin looked sleepy, as though your call had woken him up – which it probably had, since it was near 1:30 AM. Yesterday when you spoke, Jimin had said he planned on going to bed early. He was dressed in what Noelle would’ve called a groutfit – grey sweats, grey hoodie and silver-framed glasses. You blinked at these, not having realized Jimin wore contacts.

“No problem.” Jimin stifled a yawn. “Seat belt.”

“Huh?”

“Put on your seat belt.” He nodded at the strap by your side.

“Oh – right.” Hastily, you pulled this across your chest. “Thanks.”

Silence fell as you did, the awkwardness increasing with each passing second. Usually, you were better about things like car safety, but everything about this moment felt surreal. Jimin had given you his number barely twenty-four hours prior – you highly doubted this was what he had in mind when he said he’d call.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, unsure what to do.

Jimin’s lips twitched. “It’s fine, Y/N.”

Glancing his way, you found Jimin’s profile dimly lit by the streetlights. He sat spread-legged in the driver’s seat; one hand placed casually on the shift. When he caught you looking, Jimin arched a brow and shifted the car into drive.

Pulling from the curb, he merged into traffic headed away from the club. As the bright lights of Excelsior disappeared into the rearview mirror, the cars on the road became few and far between. You drove in silence, city lights striping Jimin’s profile in black and white.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?” Jimin asked, too casual to be normal.

It took you a moment to answer.

Usually, you would’ve responded yes even if it weren’t the case, since no one truly wanted to hear about your problems. Asking someone how are you? in the city was the same as a nod hello. It wasn’t genuine interest in another person’s well-being.

Tonight though, your usual responses caught in your throat. Tonight, you felt tired, frayed and dangerously thin at the seams.

Everything was not okay, and you weren’t sure how to say otherwise. Your usual walls had been torn, leaving you with this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your fight with Finn had been a big one, even worse than the argument a few weeks ago.

Still, Jimin was a newer friend to you – if you could even call him that. It wasn’t fair to unload all your problems on him. Especially at such a late hour and especially not when he was the one doing you a favor.

“Yeah,” you said at last. “Everything’s fine.”

Jimin paused, as though he knew this to be bullshit.

“Let me rephrase,” he said, shifting in his seat. “Anyone’s ass I should kick?”

You laughed a little, surprised by his threat. “No, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Nothing like that.”

“Good.” Jimin’s smile faded. “So, what happened then? How’d you get stranded?”

He didn’t ask why you called him, but the implication was clear in his voice. Honestly, it was a question you had no good answer to. All you knew was when you were standing on the curb, staring at your phone and wondering who to call, Jimin was one of the first people to pop into your mind.

“I was out with my boyfriend,” you sighed. “I said I’d go to the club with him and his friends, but it got late and we have class tomorrow, so I told Finn I wanted to leave. He… didn’t.” Pausing, you swallowed. “I ended up leaving, but I didn’t realize the trains had stopped running. Uber surcharge was ridiculous, too.”

“Oh.” Jimin’s grip on the wheel tightened.

“Anyways.” You slouched lower in his seat. “You’re the only person I know with a car, so…”

“Ah. Right.”

Curious, you glanced sideways. Although Jimin was responding in one-word answers, they seemed somehow loaded, as though they contained hidden meaning. Even his profile seemed cautious, full of a tension you couldn’t quite place.

Jimin frowned. “Your boyfriend just… let you leave like that?”

“He didn’t let me,” you said as you straightened. “I can make my own decisions, Park.”

“I know, I just…”

“You just what, Park? Spit it out.”

“I don’t know.” Jimin shrugged. “It just seems kind of cold. That’s all.”

“Yeah, well.” Truth be told, it seemed cold to you, too. “I’m not exactly… thrilled with the situation, either. He turned off his phone,” you muttered, turning to face the window.

In the reflection, you saw Jimin grimace.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“What for?”

“That just sucks, that’s all.”

“Yeah. It does suck.”

Jimin made an indiscernible noise of agreement before lapsing into silence.

It was strange to be in a car with him at this late an hour; oddly intimate for a multitude of reasons you pushed aside.

The last time you’d seen Jimin dressed so casually had been when you walked in on him with Sabrina. It had been nearly a month since then, but you hadn’t heard any gossip of them being together on campus.

Maybe this was something you could’ve asked Jimin, but it wasn’t like you had that type of relationship. Sure, you were ballet partners and sure, you’d been getting along lately, but you didn’t usually interact outside of class. Yet another line you’d crossed by calling Jimin tonight.

Thus far, you’d mostly managed to keep Finn and Russet separate. Noelle had met Finn a couple of times – you’d gone to dinner once and gotten coffee together another time, but otherwise, nothing. Finn wouldn’t have wanted to come to one of your Grace Hall rom-com marathons or take a pilates class on Sunday morning.

Mixing personal life and dance felt strange to you, as though two separate halves of yourself were colliding. It was odd to see Jimin outside of Russet’s walls. He seemed more at ease in his car, like the lines of him had blurred more from dancer to person.

Something about the nighttime made things seem fuzzier. Tired from the day and just beginning to thaw from the cold, you found your lips and mind looser than usual.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jimin said, interrupting the silence. “But I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.”

With a humorless sort of laugh, you turned to face him. “Yeah, well. I do.”

“Huh.”

Hearing his skepticism, you insisted, “I do!”

“I believe you!” Jimin chuckled. He paused. “Is it new, then? I don’t remember anyone coming to watch your dance competitions in high school.”

Warmth spread through your body, realizing Jimin must’ve kept tabs. He’d watched you at dance competitions. He knew your usual crowd of supporters.

“Finn isn’t new,” you said slowly. “He just didn’t come to a lot of competitions. They got repetitive, you know? Lots of waiting around for three minutes of watching me dance.”

“I guess.” Jimin shrugged. “I used to go to my ex’s tennis tournaments all the time, though. That was the same thing, except no AC.”

“Right,” you laughed. “You’re right, at least our competitions had air conditioning.”

Jimin turned on his blinker to switch lanes. Pulling onto a side street, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Another moment passed, and then –

“We broke up before college.”

Surprised, you glanced in his direction. “Oh. Okay.”

You stared at his profile, wondering if you were supposed to say something more. You could think of many questions to ask, but they didn’t seem appropriate coming from you. You hadn’t realized Jimin was dating someone in high school – although, come to think of it, you did seem to remember a blonde girl cheering for him in the audience at Applause Dance Competition.

“It seemed like time,” Jimin continued quietly. “She went to a school across the country and we just never assumed we’d stay together. That sounds bad,” he said with a half-laugh. “I kind of figured though, if we were meant to be, we’d figure it out. The fact that we didn’t try spoke volumes.”

“That makes sense. Honestly,” you said with a sigh. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if me and Finn had been long distance.”

As soon as the words left your lips, you blinked. The statement hung before you in mid-air, forcing you to consider it for the first time.

This wasn’t something you’d allowed yourself to imagine before; what would’ve happened if you’d gone to a different school. Going to college so close to Finn had just seemed like a sign. You didn’t have the college break-up talk because you’d simply assumed you didn’t need to.

“Yeah.” Jimin sighed. “It’s hard, right? Everything is changing so quickly. You want things to stay the same, but isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Change. Grow. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Everyone keeps telling me change isn’t a bad thing.”

“Sure seems like it, sometimes,” you said softly.

Jimin nodded. After a moment, he reached out for the stereo. A familiar song filled his car and something uncertain unfurled in your stomach. You weren’t sure what you were even talking about anymore – change was a dangerous topic without Finn around.

When the chorus of the song kicked in, you smiled.

“I love this song,” you said, turning to Jimin. “I almost choreographed my solo to it senior year.”

“Really?” Jimin glanced at you in surprise. “Same.”

“No way!” you laughed. “Wow – that would’ve been awkward. Imagine if we’d both had the same solo.”

“It would’ve made us even more competitive.”

“Not possible.”

“You’re probably right.” Jimin smiled. “We were really at each other’s throats for a while, weren’t we?”

“Yeah, we were.”

Settling back in your seat, you couldn’t help but frown.

Something about this statement bothered you, although you couldn’t put a finger on what. Maybe it was what Jimin had said yesterday about your mutual competition pushing each other forward. Maybe it had something to do with that night in Danley Hall, when Jimin stopped by and said he loved watching you dance.

If you really stopped and thought about it, Jimin was the sole constant in your dancing career. Every year, at every dance competition, you’d make sure you were available to watch Jimin’s solo. You told yourself this was because he was your competition but really, you just loved watching him dance.

You could remember the cool air of the theatre as you snuck in, sinking into a plush, velvet chair and hoping you wouldn’t be seen. You’d loved watching Jimin near the front, close enough to see his facial expressions but not close enough to be seen from the stage.

If your solos were close to one another in timing, you tended to watch Jimin from the wings. This had been a different kind of intimacy, hidden behind the first leg while you watched him dance. Lights dim, you recalled Jimin’s silhouette while he would walk to center. The opening notes of his music would sound, and you’d stifle a shiver while you watched him, entranced.

As it turned out, Jimin had been watching your solos as well, but you hadn’t known this for some time. Not until he’d told you the other night.

Suddenly, you turned in your seat. “You know I think you’re talented, right?” you blurted. “There was a reason I was always trying to beat you.”

Jimin’s brows shot up so high, they nearly met his hairline.

“I – uh, no,” he said. “You’ve never said that to me before. In fact, you kind of said the opposite. You told me the only reason I won was because I’m a guy.”

Hearing your words thrown back in your face, heat began to creep up your neck.

“Listen, about that –”

“I’m kidding.” Jimin shot you a smile. “It’s fine, Y/N.”

“I – okay.”

“Look, I know men have an advantage in the dance world.” Returning his gaze to the road, Jimin’s smile disappeared. “I’m not dumb. I know we have higher centers of gravity, and all that. It’s just… you’re also talented, Y/N. People love to watch you dance, myself included. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Staring at him over the console, you felt oddly moved by this speech.

It was strange; many people in your life had called you talented. Your parents, your teachers and Finn, of course. Each of those compliments had meant something to you, but this one felt different. It felt different coming from Jimin – more important, somehow.

Maybe it was because you admired him most of all. The realization didn’t shock you as much as it probably should’ve.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

Jimin nodded, continuing to scan the road. His car was clean, you realized as you glanced around. There were no water bottles on the floor, no napkins hastily stuffed into the glove compartment. The only sign of being lived-in was a keychain dangling over the dashboard; a small, plastic photo frame with two people inside.

“My parents,” Jimin explained, noticing where you looked.

“Oh,” you said, bending a bit closer. “They look nice.”

He laughed, unable to help it. “I’ve always thought so. My dad is the one who encouraged me to be a dancer, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Fondly, Jimin smiled. “He’s always loved music. When I was a baby, he loved to hold me and jump around the living room to songs on the radio. My mom has tons of videos of it.”

You smiled at the image. “That sounds adorable.”

“And embarrassing. My dad’s not that great a dancer.”

Without meaning to, you snorted.

Hearing this, Jimin’s smile widened. “When I started memorizing all the dances I saw on TV, my dad convinced my mom to put me in classes. Things kind of spiraled from there.”

“That’s nice,” you said, settling down in his seat. “My parents have always been my biggest supporters, too.”

Jimin nodded, about to respond but then a blast of AC hit you and you shivered. You’d nearly forgotten what you were wearing – or more accurately, what you weren’t wearing. The thin tank top you had on did little to hide the bare skin underneath.

Jimin’s gaze darted sideways. “Are you cold?” he asked, reaching out for the heat. “You can have my hoodie in the backseat, if you want.”

“Oh. No, that’s okay.” Hastily, you untied your cardigan from around your waist. “I have this,” you said, sliding both arms into the sleeves. “Completely forgot about it.”

Silently, Jimin nodded – and then his lips twitched.

“What?” you demanded.

“Nothing!” He shook his head, fighting to keep his face even. “It’s just… you wore a cardigan out to the club?”

Glancing down, you felt your cheeks begin to heat again. “Yes,” you said, somewhat defensive as you looked up. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. It’s just, you know.” He paused. “My grandma has that sweater.”

“Well, your grandma sounds like a cool lady.”

“Without a doubt,” Jimin assured. “Not much of a clubber, though.”

Leaning your head to the window, you smiled. “That makes two of us then.”

You knew the city well enough by now to recognize you were only a few blocks from Grace Hall. Somehow, you found yourself not wanting the car ride to end. Talking to Jimin outside of dance practice was nice – even fun, you realized with some surprise.

It was a shame it’d taken you so long to recognize this.

“Seriously, though.” Jimin laughed. “Clubs can be a good time! There’s dancing, there’s music… rumor has it you like dancing.”

“Not that kind of dancing,” you sighed. “That kind of dancing is just a dry version of a lap dance for people who don’t know what to do with their hips.”

Jimin hid behind a smile. “Ouch, on behalf of your boyfriend.”

“Oh!” Straightening, you glanced at him in alarm. “That’s not – I didn’t mean…”

Stricken, you realized the obviousness of what you had said. Forget about your face heating, your entire body felt like an inferno. You had just told Jimin, in so many words, that Finn didn’t know what to do with his hips.

Jimin waved this admission aside. “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I’ll forget what I heard the instant I get home. Up until tonight, I didn’t know the guy existed, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, settling back in your seat.

Rather than reassure you, this only gave you further pause.

It didn’t seem possible Jimin hadn’t known about Finn. Racking your brains, you tried to think of a time they would’ve crossed paths – only to come up short. Finn hadn’t ever stopped by the studio to pick you up, he hadn’t ever come to mutual hangouts with your Russet friends. Admittedly, Jimin had only recently started attending the same ones as you, but it still seemed unthinkable.

You and Finn had been dating for over two years. Finn’s name should have come up at some point and yet, it hadn’t.

Before you could respond, Jimin pulled to a stop outside your dorm. Glancing over the console, he smiled and again, you were struck by the image.

With his grey sweats, mussed hair and those glasses – you swallowed. It was a side of Jimin you hadn’t seen and something about the visual made your stomach lurch. Before you could launch into full-blown panic, Jimin raised a brow.

“Here you are,” he said with a grandiose wave. “Home sweet home.”

Glancing past him, you took in the steps of Grace Hall.

“Thanks,” you said, pushing open the door. Before exiting the car, you paused and looking over your shoulder. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten home without you.”

In the darkness, you saw his expression soften.

“Anytime,” Jimin said.

You could tell he meant it. There was something to his gaze which made you nod. Jimin wasn’t the type to mince words or say things he didn’t mean. Just like when he said he loved your dancing, you knew Jimin was telling the truth. When he said anytime, he meant it.

Nodding, you resumed exiting the car. Waving goodbye, you stood on the curb until he was out of sight.

Once Jimin disappeared, you sighed and turned towards the building. Grace Hall was silent this late at night – it was nearly 2:00 AM and again, you were thankful Jimin had answered his phone. As you let yourself in and climbed the steps to your room, your thoughts began to race with all the what-ifs.

What-if Jimin hadn’t answered, what-if you’d had to walk home alone, or walk to find a cab. Pressing your eyes shut, you shooed these thoughts away. None of that had actually happened, so it wasn’t worth worrying about.

As soon as you got upstairs, you stepped in the shower – the stickiness of that girl’s drink continued to linger on your skin. After changing into fresh pajamas and brushing your teeth, you wearily climbed into bed. The last thing you did before falling asleep was call Finn again in case he’d returned home.

His phone went straight to voicemail though and, with a sinking stomach, you rolled over in bed and turned off the light.

After sleeping until the last possible moment, you managed to roll yourself out of bed around seven the next morning. This only left fifteen minutes before you needed to leave and even then, you felt like a zombie as you rushed out the door.

Grabbing coffee at the place down the street, you and Noelle entered class with barely ten minutes to spare. Jimin was already present but he was talking to Louis, so you stuck to your side and didn’t interrupt. You wanted to thank him again for his help, but all this flew out the window when a familiar woman followed Mr. Vlad into the classroom.

“Class.” Mr. Vlad set his things down by the window. “You remember Anna Hodelle, I presume – principal dancer at the New York City Ballet. She’s in town for a different master class and has graciously agreed to lead ballet this morning.”

The news was simultaneously exciting and nerve-wracking. Anna had taught a master class several weeks prior which left you sore for days following. Her classes were exciting though, and she was Anna Hodelle, one of the youngest principal dancers for the New York City Ballet in at least forty years – so there was that.

Her introduction didn’t require any response. Scrambling into place at the barre, the class waited while Anna shed her warm-ups and Mr. Vlad left the room. As soon as the music began, you found yourself grateful you hadn’t drunk the night prior.

Similar to her last master class, you found Miss Anna relentless in her pursuit of perfection. Her expectations were high and as a result, everyone gave their best effort – and then some. By the time you broke for water, no less than three students had already run for the bathroom.

It wasn’t pretty, but vomiting was something which happened with dance. Class could be such a grueling workout that occasionally, younger students pushed themselves past their limits. If you ate a big meal before practice, it was increasingly likely you might throw it up after.

You could count on two hands the number of times this had happened to you in high school. There had been some days you practiced so hard, sweat ran down your forehead and blinded your vision. On other days, the floor was so slippery, your bare feet couldn’t grasp the floorboards. Dance, despite being hailed for grace and glamour, tended to be exactly the opposite.

One of your teachers used to say you weren’t using your muscles if they weren’t shaking by the end. Ballerinas were seen as delicate, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. Ballet only looked effortless – this was a carefully cultivated image for the audience. At all times, all muscles in a ballerina’s body were engaged, yet even when sweat dripped down her brow, she had to smile.

You’d seen dancers finish their combination, give a sweeping bow, walk gracefully offstage and vomit into the nearest trash can. Everything was for show, everything was for the audience – one of your favorite parts about dance was knowing the brutal behind-the-scenes effort everything took. It made you appreciate the final product all the more.

By the end of class you were exhausted but happy, wiping sweat from your brow while you applauded the teacher. After Anna’s dismissal, you immediately exhaled and trudged towards your bag. Noelle chattered on about a TV show you were watching, reminding you to catch up before Monday.

As you picked up your bag, you felt its front pocket vibrate. Fishing inside for your phone, you pulled this out and felt your eyes widen.

Five missed calls and eight missed texts. Once you opened your phone, you saw they were all from Finn.

Finn: hey [8:18 AM]

Finn: Y/N, I’m so sorry [8:19 AM]

Finn: I don’t know if you’re ignoring me because you’re angry, or if you’re in class right now [8:25 AM]

Finn: you’re probably in class [8:30 AM]

Finn: if you’re not though, please call me back [8:31 AM]

Finn: fuck [9:01 AM]

Finn: I was such an ass last night, Y/N. I’m sorry [9:03 AM]

Finn: … please call me [9:35 AM]

With each text you read, you felt your heart sink. Up until this point, you’d gotten through class by pretending last night hadn’t happened. Now though, you were forced to remember every detail of the night prior.

Finn had left you at the club.

He’d stormed away from your fight, turned off his phone and left you alone. Each time you remembered the night, your fury only grew. This morning when you woke, you’d still been pissed off – even more so, when you turned on your phone and saw zero texts from Finn.

Had your roles been reversed, you never would’ve done the same to him. Sure, it had been a bad fight but who did that? Just took off in the middle of a conversation and shut everything down. The worst part was him turning off his phone. As soon as things didn’t go as planned, Finn simply washed his hands of you.

That was what hurt most of all, the shame burrowing deep into the crevices of your heart.

Beneath everything was a strange twinge of guilt at having called Jimin to pick you up. This was easily brushed aside, though – Finn had left you stranded. If anyone had a right to be mad here, it was you.

“Y/N? You okay?”

Noelle’s voice pulled you from your reverie. Blinking, you lowered your phone and realized you were alone. The rest of the room had cleared out after class – this probably wasn’t the first time Noelle had said your name.

“Shit, sorry!” Hastily, you shoved your phone in your bag. “Yeah… yeah, everything’s fine.”

Noelle gave you a look. “Really?”

After a moment, you sighed. “No,” you said, turning to walk towards the door. “Why pretend? It’s Finn.”

Following you from the classroom, Noelle fell into step alongside you.

“He’s not hurt, is he?” she said carefully.

“Unfortunately, not.”

Noelle snorted. “Okay, so he’s in the doghouse.”

“Yep.”

“Want to talk about it?”

At the top of the stairs, you paused. “Finn and I got in a fight last night,” you admitted. “He wanted to stay at the club, and I wanted to go home – so he told me to leave. I did, but then I realized I had no way to get there.”

Noelle’s mouth dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me? He just… left you there? Wow. The next time I see your ‘boyfriend,’ I’m going to – wait,” she said, pulling up short. “How did you get home, then?”

“I – uh, well… Jimin picked me up.”

Noelle stared at you a moment longer. “Huh. Didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” you said, beginning to walk down the stairs. “Finn turned his cell phone off, so I couldn’t get ahold of him and by then, the trains stopped running. Uber was surging and Jimin is the only person I know with a car, so…”

“Ah, gotcha. That makes sense.” Noelle nodded. “Nice of him to come get you.”

“Yeah, it was nice. Anyways, Finn’s been texting me all morning.”

“Oh!” Noelle groaned. “That was your phone! I kept hearing something vibrating while I was waiting to go across the floor.”

“Yep, that was him,” you said glumly. “Apparently he’s sorry.”

“Of course, he is.”

“He said he was an ass last night.”

“Of course, he did.”

“… I’m still pissed at him.”

“Of course, you are!” Noelle cried, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Listen, tell him you got home alright – not that he deserves that much, mind you – but you need some time to cool off. He can wait until you’re ready to talk, right?”

Nodding, you saw sense in what she was saying. “You’re right.”

Despite Noelle making sense though, part of you didn’t want to wait.

Part of you wanted to call Finn back right now and give him a piece of your mind, but you knew if you did that, things wouldn’t end well. He deserved to be cussed out, but you were completely exhausted. The idea of fighting with your boyfriend left you feeling drained.

Noelle was right – Finn could wait until you were ready to talk, whenever that was.

Pulling out your phone a second time, you texted Finn you were safe and that you’d talk when you were ready. Once he responded okay, you shoved your phone in your pocket.

Noelle looked sympathetically on. “Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” she said, arm back around your shoulder. “We can invite Irene and Ari and just watch dumb movies and eat brownie batter in fancy lingerie. You know, like every guy’s sleepover porn fantasy.”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed. “Sounds like a plan,” you said with a grin. “God, what would I do without you?”

“Be super bored, probably.”

You snorted, but the thought stuck in your mind as you left the building. It really would be awful without Noelle by your side. Without meaning to, your thoughts strayed to Sabrina. Aside from Katie and Allison, you had no idea who she hung out with.

It had to be lonely for someone like her. Russet was intense enough without a support system. You quickly pushed these feelings aside – even if Sabrina was lonely, she had no one to blame but herself. You’d offered the olive branch enough times by now to know when to stop.

“I guess only one question remains,” you said slowly.

Noelle glanced your way. “Oh, yeah? What?”

“How dumb are the dumb movies we’re watching? Like, From Justin to Kelly dumb – where it’s a guilty pleasure? Or, more like The Kissing Booth dumb – where things are just bad dumb.”

“Why choose?” Noelle shrugged. “Let’s do both!”

“Deal!”

As you climbed the steps to Grace Hall, you continued to ignore Finn’s texts in your bag. He could wait until tomorrow, at least. After what he put you through, a single night of not knowing what you were thinking seemed appropriate.

When you finally gave in and called Finn the next day, you weren’t sure what you were hoping for. Finn had already texted his apology, so at least he knew he’d been in the wrong. As to what degree he was aware, you didn’t know, but you got a fairly good idea once he picked up the phone.

Short answer: very wrong.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Finn blurted, as though afraid you might cut him off. “I was such an ass to you Friday night. I – I don’t even know what to say. I don’t even know where to start. I fucked up so bad, Y/N and I’m sorry.”

Silence followed this outburst as you frowned, leaning back on the bed.

Noelle had graciously left the room to study at the coffee shop on the corner. Secretly, you knew this was mostly to flirt with the barista, Namjoon, but you couldn’t begrudge her for that. Namjoon did have the most adorable dimples you’d ever seen.

Focusing your thoughts on Finn, you played with a stray thread of your sheets. “I mean… that’s a good start, I guess,” you muttered. “But what are you really sorry for, Finn?”

His sigh was soft. “Everything.”

“Specifics would be good.”

“I was drunk,” he exhaled. “That’s not an excuse, but… I honestly don’t remember everything that I said to you. I remember the gist of it though, and I know it was terrible. I know you didn’t deserve it.”

You remained silent, even though you agreed with him.

“I wanted to stay out,” he continued. “That doesn’t really matter, though. I was a dick. I was stubborn and angry, and I took that out on you. You’re the last person I would ever want to hurt, and I just… I left you. Something could’ve happened to you. God, if something had happened, Y/N…”

Finn trailed off and you heard his voice crack but forced yourself to stay silent. Hearing him break was hard, but you reminded yourself what you’d felt Friday night – all the anger and terror when he completely disappeared.

This memory hardened you enough not to melt at his apology.

“Yeah, well,” you said tightly. “You’re right – something could’ve happened. The trains weren’t running and Uber was crazy expensive. I couldn’t get back in the club. I ended up waiting outside for nearly twenty minutes before someone came to pick me up.”

“Fuck.” Finn sounded strangled. “Fuck… Y/N, I’m sorry…”

In your mind, you envisioned him shoving a hand through his hair. Finn did that when he was stressed or upset and right now, he sounded a little of both.

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Who picked you up?”

Immediately, you stiffened. “Do you seriously think you deserve an answer to that?”

“No, no, I – you’re right, it doesn’t matter. Thank them for me, okay?”

You remained silent and again, Finn sighed.

“Are you… are we going to be okay?”

It was a loaded question. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head to the wall. In all honesty, you didn’t know the answer to that.

On the one hand, you loved Finn. That hadn’t changed. On the other hand, it was becoming more and more apparent your problems weren’t going away. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise – but all couples had problems, didn’t they?

In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think a break-up should be more obvious than this. A break-up should be something big, something irreversible. You were beginning to wonder though, at what point were problems considered insurmountable. Everything about this seemed grey and right now, you really needed black and white answers.

Both your lives were changing, as Jimin had said. Freshman year was a cacophony of change; in order to succeed, you and Finn needed to learn to grow with each other. Hiccups were to be expected, bumps in the road were to be expected, but if you wanted to stay together, you needed to learn how to fight for this relationship.

“I think so,” you said, opening your eyes. “I think we’ll be okay. I just… Finn, you really hurt me that night.”

“I know.”

“It can’t happen again.”

“It won’t.”

“You know… I want to spend time with you, right?”

“I… do.”

He paused for longer than you would’ve liked, but you brushed past it. “I know you like going to clubs and all that,” you said. “But that’s not really me. Maybe next time we can do something different. Something a little more low-key.”

“Yeah.” Finn chuckled. “That sounds nice, honestly.”

“Good.”

“At least my friends really liked you.”

Taken aback, you snorted. “Oh, come on, Finn. I was barely there.”

“I’m being serious! Ben told me he thinks you’re funny.”

“Ben,” you groaned. “Has all the humor of a wet sock.”

Finn laughed and this time, it sounded like him. His laugh had been watery before, a restrained version but now, his true mirth broke free. As soon as the sound hit your ears, you began to relax. Truthfully, you hadn’t been sure things would be okay until then. Hearing him laugh, you knew Finn meant it. He wanted this, too.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “Ben sucks, but at least he has the taste to know that you don’t. Next time, we’ll do something more fun.”

“Next time,” you agreed.

“Next time.”

Despite your conversation having gone as well as it possibly could’ve, uncertainty continued to linger in the back of your mind.

You spent Sunday evening watching TV, but still slept restlessly before your class the next morning. Mr. Vlad’s ballet was definitely not one you wanted to arrive at ill-rested, but Monday you showed up with bags under your eyes.

You tried to push all negative thoughts from mind while warming up at the barre. By the time class broke for water, you were feeling marginally better. Ballet was soothing that way. The repetitiveness of barre helped to put things in perspective. Your ankle had almost completely healed by this point and now, two weeks after the fall, your technique had finally begun to improve.

No longer were you the last one to catch onto combinations and Mr. Vlad only yelled once about your turnout at barre. This was a marked improvement from the start of the year and although you still were far from the top, you felt relatively good about your standing. You had a feeling once you and Jimin began to practice, the moves would come even easier.

The first combination at center was a slow adagio. It wasn’t particularly difficult aside from a lift in the middle, but despite the familiarity of the moves, Jimin was being oddly hesitant.

Mr. Vlad showed the combination with his dance assistant, Mina. After they demonstrated a particularly difficult lift, they gave everyone time to practice – which, in your and Jimin’s case, turned out to be necessary.

“Ladies, pique to arabesque!” Mr. Vlad called from the front. “Lift your leg higher and – the man lifts! He walks you in a promenade. Then you’re lowered, exhale – and bourrée!”

Brian immediately raised his hand for help, so Mr. Vlad left to assist in his corner. The lift was proving itself to be tricky – it required most of your weight balanced against Jimin’s side while he gripped your thigh, lifting you up.

You and Jimin began to practice, but no matter what you did, nothing seemed to be working. After the fourth failed attempt where Jimin nearly dropped you on your ass, you shakily landed and whirled around.

“Alright,” you said, both hands on your hips. “What’s going on?”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how’re you supposed to lift me if you’re barely touching me? Look at Sabrina and Paulo!” you said, gesturing in their direction. “He’s got his whole fucking hand under her leg!”

Jimin’s cheeks turned red. “I – uh, right. Yeah. Let’s try it again.”

Staring at him another moment, you nodded and returned to your spot. Jimin settled into fifth position, jaw clenched and looking as though he were in pain. You stared at him in the mirror, considering calling him out before thinking better of it.

Taking a deep breath, you piqued into arabesque. Leaning your weight to Jimin, he reached again for your thigh – only to falter, leaving you hanging.

“Jimin!” you half-laughed as you slipped down his leg.

“I’m sorry!” Jimin blurted, stepping away. Looking thoroughly distraught, he shoved both hands through his hair. “It’s just… well, I…”

“It’s just what?”

“You have a boyfriend,” he said, a bit pained.

In response to this, both your eyebrows shot up. That had not been the answer you’d expected.

“I… okay?” you said, failing to grasp the point. “So what?”

“So.” Jimin glanced furtively around. “I don’t know, it’s just weird! I don’t want to… overstep my boundaries, or anything.”

“But…” You stared. “I had a boyfriend last week and it wasn’t a problem.”

“Okay, but last week I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

Again, you looked at him as though he was crazy.

“This is stupid,” you said, stepping closer. “Ballet is our job, Jimin. It’s the least sexy occupation on the planet. Right now, I’m bleeding from three different blisters inside my pointe shoes. I’m sure my deodorant has long worn off by now. Would you just fucking get over yourself and grab my thigh?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “Well. When you put it like that.”

“I am putting it like that,” you said with a grin. “Now, let’s go again.”

Nodding, Jimin followed when you walked backwards. Taking another deep breath, you piqued to arabesque and this time, Jimin didn’t flinch when your weight transitioned to his. Hand sliding beneath your thigh, he lifted you easily into a promenade.

As soon as you turned your head, you caught Jimin’s gaze and felt – something.

Something other than the white noise of the room. Something other than the thud-thud of your heart, other than the music on the stereo and Mr. Vlad yelling counts from the corner.

Despite what you had just finished saying, something unknown seemed to bloom in your chest. In the middle of the lift – blood blisters and all – you felt an errant spark where Jimin’s front pressed to yours.

You barely had time to recognize this before the moment was gone. Slowing his walk, Jimin set you back down – and you wobbled.

This time it had nothing to do with his technique.

“Ah, shit.” Jimin frowned. “That’s my bad – I can do better! Let’s try it again.”

Nodding, you felt a bit wooden as you followed in his footsteps. When Mr. Vlad started the music, you fought the surging tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm. It had been nothing, you told yourself. Nothing of importance, anyways.

Shoving whatever you’d felt in a box, you pushed this to a corner of your mind and firmly shut the door. Forcing a smile to your lips, you lifted your chin as you began the combination.

It was lucky everyone else found you a talented performer, since beneath all your smiling, all you could think about was what was hidden in the box.

Something unknown, something tentative – and something which could be dangerous, if it ever came to light.

Author’s Note: I was so close to re-writing this chapter with Mr. Vlad picking her up LOL just kidding, but thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin au #jimin series #bts au #bts series #jimin dance au #bts dance au #jimin e2l #bts e2l

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Mistletoe

Thank you @EXOLSSECRETSANTA for hosting this great secret santa event.

Here is your holiday gift, congrats for finishing another year and I hope you enjoy this present @ncweab

ps everyone else can enjoy this too :D it's a Suho x reader story

MISTLETOE ✨

He was always there, on the screen with his deep calm voice greeting the teacher over the zoom call. From the very first day of zoom class, you saw his name and smiled when you tried to say it out loud in a whisper.

“Kim JunMyeon,” you roll it in your mouth, his name sounds nice.

The general introduction which leads to turning on cameras and you were taken aback by how sweet and charming Kim JunMyeon looks.

“I go with Suho,” he smiled to the whole class when it was his turn, and ever since then this 08.30 am zoom class has been your favorite class.

You spent ten weeks watching the screen, turning your camera off as you focus or sometimes pin on Suho’s window screen to yours. Ten breakout room sessions and never for once did you end up with Suho. On the last day, you memorized his face and swallowed the bitter truth that maybe you won’t ever meet him anymore, since this was just a random basic class you need to take to graduate.

That was four months ago. Summer came and the long break happened. You found a great summer fling who made your days less dull.

Chanyeol, Park Chanyeol, he took you on random picnic dates and random movie nights. He was great, but your heart still flutters when you remember Suho’s sweet smile to the camera. You can’t stop wondering how one could look that great in the morning.

Chanyeol became your best friend but you kept your memory about Suho.

Someone so sweet, someone you can't talk to, and someone you wish you could meet again.

You tried looking for his social media, somehow you didn’t find him at all.

–000–

Fall term happens, you walk to your classes. School is back delivered offline, students are wearing masks and it’s hard to recognize people just with their eyes.

You stumble into your first class, a class with 60 people in it.

You straighten your skirt as you sit down on one of the chairs.

Taking a look around to see if you notice anyone, to your surprise you spot a familiar pair of eyes. Suho? You thought to yourself. He can’t be. You focus yourself back to the syllabus and materials.

You shrug it off, thinking that it’s just someone who has a similar pair of eyes.

One hour passes by and you step to the other building for your next class. A big lecture class with 100 students. And in the middle of that crowd, your eyes once again found his warm hazel eyes. You did not notice if this was the same person as before, remembering that mask made it hard to identify people.

You sit down with a couple of friends you noticed shared the same class with you last term. At least you’re not alone.

The day goes well and Chanyeol picks you up that afternoon, asking if you are down to go drink with him. You shake your head “I’m not getting drunk on my first night of school.” you chuckle

He groans “Don’t you want to dress up and look pretty? Many guys will be looking for girls. It’s a good chance, seeing that you just want to be friends with me.” he mocks you, since you rejected his offer to be something more than friends last summer.

You sigh “Stop teasing me about that, are you still bitter about it.”

He laughs and ruffles your hair “Nah, I just don’t want you lonely. A cute girl like you needs to have someone who can protect and take care of you.”

You scoff “Sexist. I can take care of myself.” you gulp, even when you really want to be in a relationship and do cute stuff together for winter break.

Chanyeol pats your shoulder “Hey, I just don’t want you to be sad. Come, let’s just play in my place. We can have a movie marathon, it looks like Baekhyun won’t be home tonight.”

Baekhyun is Chanyeol’s super fun roommate. You met that fun bubbly guy when you were going back from a fun drunk dancing session with Chanyeol in the summer, and Baekhyun was the best clown.

Because you also don’t have much to do in the first week, you agreed to join Chanyeol to his house, only to end up not watching any film since he made both of you eat dinner and then talk while sipping on wine.

“You said we’re gonna watch movies,” you snicker

He smiles, “Seriously? You thought that was for real? I just have to bring you here to dig your secret.”

You choke on your wine, “What secret?”

Chanyeol wiggles his brow, “You’re hiding something since I can read you easily. You were thinking about something or someone and it’s bothering you. You don’t seem as energetic as usual. I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

You gulp but laugh to cover your surprise. “No way, you’re making things up!”

Chanyeol reaches out for your phone “I won’t return it to you until you tell me the truth. It’s for your own good.”

You try to take your phone back, but Chanyeol’s long arm makes it hard for you. He just put it on top of the highest kitchen shelves and you give up quickly.

“Fine,” after a minute of weighing your options. Both of you walk back to the living room.

Chanyeol smiles and pats the empty seat next to him on the sofa, you drop your butt there and sigh.

“Before summer term, I saw this cute guy in my 8.30 am zoom class. He’s so cute, active in class, and he has dreamy eyes.”

You fiddle with the pillow and continue, “I let my hope die when the term ended, since I never got his contact nor ever talked to him.”

Chanyeol nods and you keep going, “But then today I saw someone similar like him twice in my classes.”

The tall guy only slaps your knee and walks to take your phone and come back handing it to you, “You remember his name?”

You look at him confused as you reach your phone “Of course. Why? I tried looking for his instagram but I couldn't find it. Nor his facebook!”

Chanyeol grimaces “What.. he doesn’t have social media? Should be careful.”

You slap him “No. he is not like that! He is far from shady.”

Your friend only laughs and peek over your shoulder “Go open the school web and see the people in your classes. You can do that, you know.”

You slap your head “Of course! How can I forget that?”

With a pounding heart you type down his name on the search bar of your class data and apparently he is in both of those classes you were in earlier.

Your jaw hangs open and you squeal happily “IT WAS HIM!”

Chanyeol closed his eyes when you repeatedly hit his arm while showing him the class data. “Kim JunMyeon is in my class. TWO OF MY CLASSES!”

Chanyeol only shrugs his shoulders “What a great coincidence. Okay you can get his heart and number then.”

Your shoulder slump and you pout “That is the problem. I never have the balls to talk to him, he’s just so good looking and I am such an average girl.”

Chanyeol pushes your chin to look at him, “Hey stop saying that. You are gorgeous, people are interested in you. Have some self esteem.”

You force a smile, “Thank you, but I don’t want to freak him out.”

Both of you remain in silence, letting the truth sink in. The slow background music from his playlist became the only source of sound.

You bitterly smile, “It’s just that, he is so close yet so far.”

Chanyeol takes your hand in his large one and gives it a squeeze “Maybe you just need better luck.”

You do need better luck, but throughout eleven weeks of school, of stress and finals, of running into Suho and through shy glances of eye contact, you never properly talk to him.

One time you went into the building and he was going out of the building, you were surprised when he smiled but you were stupid not to say hello.

Another time, you saw him entering the lecture hall, Suho was looking for a seat and he saw you, looked at you for a while then walked away.

There were numerous eye contacts making sure he was seeing you and guessing where he met you.

Your heart aches every time destiny makes the two of you be in the same room, just some seats apart yet none of you have the guts to say hello.

But the goddess of love still hasn’t spared a glance on you and him.

Winter break has come and you are already chiling on Chanyeol’s couch again after your last final test.

Your fingers lazily pluck on the strings as you mumble some caroling.

“Are you going anywhere, Yeol?” you ask the man in his ugly christmas sweater who is busy decorating the place with tinsels. He and Baekhyun will host a small intimate Christmas dinner. You met some of their friends when visiting here, two of them are freshman and others are your age or older.

Chanyeol snickers, “I won’t be going anywhere if you don’t help me finish this decoration now.”

You groan “But the party is tomorrow yeol.”

He clicks his tongue “And I want to bake tomorrow, so help me please?”

You put the guitar aside and lazily walk to help him. “I am in my Christmas spirit okay, I’m just not a big fan of helping you,” you taunt

“To answer your question earlier, I will be renting a cabin in the ski resort with the boys. Do you want to join?”

“I love ski, but do your boys want me around?” you raise your brow

Chanyeol rubs your head “Dude, I don’t know if you’re just acting innocent or you really are. You’re sweet, hot, and caring, boys love you. Of course the boys will be fine with you tagging along. They’d love to have a girl rather than just boys.”

You smack his back “That made it sound creepy! But I’ll see, if I like the vibe tomorrow I will go.”

“Sure. Also how is it going with that JunMyeon guy?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” you smile, you’re ready to let him go.

“Okay, Just so you know I am still single,” he wiggles his brow and you shake your head slowly “No Yeollie, you’re like my brother.”

Chanyeol drives you home and you take a rest, before going to attend the celebration tomorrow.

You admire yourself in the mirror. You don your red dress, a black stocking and a cute christmas hairpin. You look extra cute.

You spin and spray perfume and finally enter Baekhyun’s car since Yeol is busy with his baking.

You talked for a while with Baekhyun, he mentioned some of the other guests' names and you froze when he mentioned a name that has been keeping you awake.

Could it be the same Suho? The same JunMyeon? Why did Chanyeol never tell you? But well you never show him the picture and there might be someone else named suho or junmyeon.

Baekhyun dropped you on the front door and drove to park his car.

“A mistletoe?” you snicker when you saw the hanging mistletoe on the door frame. “Boys..”

You knocked on the door since it’s locked and someone opens the door for you. To both of your surprise the two of you just stand and stare in silence.

“(Y/N)?” that sweet voice, that sweet sweet voice you remember by heart just called your name and you want to have it recorded as your ringtone.

You blush, “Suho?”

He smiles “Turns out it was true, I’ve been wondering if the girl I see is really you.”

You feel your heart become light, “Oh gosh same here. I’ve been holding myself back from talking to you.. I’m afraid you’re someone else.”

“You look so beautiful.” he runs his eyes and you give him a twirl, making both of you laugh

He looks up and blushes “I’m sorry about the mistletoe, it’s the babies’ ideas.”

You bite your lips “It’s fine. It’s Christmas after all.”

He chuckles “Do people still believe in the myth?”

You turn red “That it is the symbol of love?”

He nods and looks at you, you shrug your shoulders “I’m not sure, should we test it?”

You did not know where your boldness came from, but it’s just standing in the cold winter air, in your cute dress, with a cute boy in front of you. Scratch, not just a regular cute boy, THE cute boy that has been messing with your heart and brain for almost half a year.

He steps aside and lets you stand inside the door frame, still under the mistletoe.

Both of you exchange glances and as he inches closer and you close your eyes, you feel a pair of soft plump lips kissing yours.

He tastes like peppermint on a cold winter night, your heart beats faster when he places his hand on your neck and waist.

You feel your shoulder relaxed as you melt into his kiss.

How magical your Christmas is! Truly December has miracles and the mistletoe? Mistletoe might be your favorite thing so far.

The kiss ends when Baekhyun had to cough and excuse himself to go in since he’s cold outside and both you and Suho only chuckle.

“Should I introduce you to the other boys?” he holds your hand and you nod.

“If this was all too fast and too much, let me know.” he kisses your hand and you melt deeper.

You love him, you know that… and if your understanding of love is true, you knew Suho also loved you. From the first kiss, the warm smile, the deep eyes staring into your soul, you knew they were all different and special for you.

You get introduced to the other friends and after a while you excuse yourself to meet Chanyeol who is still in the kitchen.

You surprise him with a back hug which earns a surprised yell from him.

“What is it?!” he turn around to face you and you beam a big smile “You never said you have a friend named JunMyeon!”

He squinted “Suho?”

You punch him “Yeah. You nevr think of showing him to me,”

Chanyeol connects the dot “OWH! Oh, so you’ve been so inlove with my friend?”

You step on his foot “If you show me Suho faster, I’d not be a crazy girl!”

Yeol only laugh “Sorry, I did not think of that, I thought you’re saying someone else. Anyways you’ve met him right? See. I told you this Christmas party is cool.”

You poke his side and grin “Thank you for hosting this. I’ll see you!! Got tons to catch up with Suho, also if he is coming to the ski trip, I am coming too!”

You press a kiss on his cheek and Yeol only groans “Go, catch your dream boy.”

You giggle “Oh yes I will!”

And so, the night goes by. You sit next to Suho, and both of you learn about each other more than just your name and face.

He is so charming, sweet, and passionate. He cares about the other boys and you just love him more.

Once again before you left, the two of you stare at the mistletoe before sealing one last night kiss and diving into the night.

end

i hope you enjoyed it and not hate it :)) have a great one!

#EXOLSSECRETSANTA21 #suho imagine #suho scenario #suho x reader #junmyeon x reader #exo fanfic #exo scenarios

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pickalilywrites · 3 years

Text

it’s my first fic since i started my job ❤ i hope you enjoy ^^

..........

You and Me at the End of the World

Falbi. SF8 AU.

11194 words.

Read on Ao3!

»»————- April 3, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes, a sigh escaping his lips. He feels an incredible weariness in his bones as if he had run a marathon yesterday even though he hasn’t really had PE in a month. He hasn’t had PE since his teacher had run off just like everyone else did when they heard that an asteroid was hurtling towards the earth and set to destroy life as everyone knew it. Everyone Falco knew just up and left their jobs and homes to pursue their dreams: his classmates dropped out of school to become idols or viral TikTokers, the mailman stopped delivering mail to Falco’s house and decided to fly to every place in the world he had always wanted to visit, and even the principal of Falco’s school had resigned but not before advising all of the students to drop out of school because it was useless now that they were all about to die.

Many people had taken the principal’s advice, but not Falco. He still goes to school on the weekdays and spends the weekend completing homework assignments that will never be graded. A few students had visited the school even after the principal had closed the school down, but they had stopped coming after they saw how many of their peers had dropped out and saw how even the teachers didn’t bother coming back.

It doesn’t bother Falco that he goes to school every morning and studies in an empty classroom all day or that he has to fish out study plans from the notebooks his teachers left behind just to give himself something to do. His parents have asked him why he bothers going to school when all of his classmates have pretty much given up, but Falco really doesn’t have an answer. If he had to say anything, it’s probably that he doesn’t have anything in particular that he wants to do.

Falco acknowledges that he’s never been incredibly ambitious like some of his classmates have been. His talents are unspectacular. He knows that he’s neither athletic nor smart. He’s always been average. He never studied too hard because he knew he’d never get the highest score in the class and he never exerted himself too much in PE because there was always someone stronger or faster than him. It isn’t something that ever bothered him, and he’s grown to accept that part of himself.

He doesn’t have any special interests either. Sure, Falco enjoys playing video games and playing sports like any kid his age, but he can’t see himself wasting the rest of his days on them. Some of his classmates even asked him to join them. Falco has had multiple offers: join a band as a bassist even though he’s never touched a bass guitar in his life, become a part of a dance crew despite his coordination being awful at best, start a video channel pulling off different stunts and tricks to gain a little bit of spotlight before they all died, among others. He declined all of them in the end, preferring to be alone, and even now Falco doesn’t regret his decision. He’s content being a normal kid living out the rest of his tedious life as monotonously as he always did.

His parents live quite normally too except for the fact that they quit their jobs like everybody else did when news of the asteroid came out. Rather than return to their jobs every morning, his parents go out on long walks together, often visiting places from their younger days. They usually leave long before Falco wakes, but his mother is always sure to leave out a freshly made breakfast for Falco and his older brother Colt.

Colt hasn’t made any drastic changes to his lifestyle, not like some other people his age. He, too, dropped out of school like many of his peers and Falco’s classmates, but he usually spends his time visiting internet cafés or playing baseball with his friends. The elder brother once curiously asked Falco why he bothered going to school and the younger just simply shrugged. Colt never bothered to ask again, and Falco was fine with that.

Falco rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth as he normally does. His hair looks like a mess. Since news of the upcoming apocalypse, people either care excessively about their appearance or they don’t care about it at all. Considering his circumstances, Falco should probably fall in the latter category, but he fixes his bed head all the same, patting down the cowlicks and running a comb through his hair to get rid of all the tangles.

After washing his face and getting dressed in his school uniform, Falco wanders into the kitchen where his breakfast is waiting for him. On the stove sits a pan with fluffy scrambled eggs mixed with little bits of crispy, dark spinach leaves, and sweet gruyère. Falco twists the knob on the stove with a sharp click before popping bread into the toaster. As he waits for the eggs to warm up, he fixes himself a glass of orange juice.

Falco ends up splitting the eggs in half, leaving a portion for Colt whenever he decides to roll out of bed. He sits at the kitchen island by himself, munching on some generously buttered toast in between bites of egg. It’s a much fancier breakfast than his mother used to make. Scrambled eggs were usually plain except for a dash of salt and pepper, but his mother has become more experimental with her cooking now that the end of the world is evident. It’s a good change, Falco thinks as the blend of savory bacon and salted eggs melt onto his tongue. It probably would have been nice if his mother had decided to be more adventurous with her cooking beforehand, but it’s not as if having regrets about this can change the past so Falco just eats the rest of his breakfast before dumping his plate in the sink and calling out to his brother that he’ll be heading to school. He doesn’t even wait for a response from Colt before heading out the door.

Ever since news of the asteroid, Falco has begun seeing very interesting people on his way to school. Some of them are familiar to him. Others he’s never seen before in his life. They’re not all strange, of course. Sometimes there are just kids running up and down the road kicking a soccer ball or couples holding hands as they take a morning stroll. But there are more than a few eccentrics on Falco’s way to school.

Lately, there have been people claiming to be superheroes. They have superpowers, they insist. Some will rush up to strangers on the street and show off their powers, but Falco has never seen any proof of their alleged superhuman talents.

Some people post videos online demonstrating their special gifts. Falco has seen a handful of them, mostly because his friend Zofia keeps sending them to him every few days when she finds them particularly funny. He finds them mildly intriguing, although he’s fairly certain that most (if not all) of the videos are either staged or edited to look real. He’s never been fully convinced by any of them.

On this particular walk to school, Falco passes by a person who claims to be able to create seismic shifts and another person who she can talk to animals. Neither person is particularly believable. Falco only gives a passing glance when the first person begins to demonstrate their powers by spinning in a circle and letting out a low groan that begins to grow into a loud shriek. The earth, Falco notices, does not shake. He’s even less interested when the animal girl starts shouting post-apocalyptic prophecies about how giant bugs will inherit the earth once the dust has settled on the earth after the asteroid impact.

Falco reaches the school gate and pulls it open himself because there isn’t a teacher there to welcome him like there used to be. He leaves it open to save trouble for anyone who ends up coming after him, although he highly doubts anyone will be joining him. He walks across the courtyard where some of his former schoolmates play soccer, looking at them briefly but not bothering to bid them good morning. When he gets to the building, he pulls open the door and steps inside. The sound of his shoes against the speckled tile echo across the empty hallways as he makes his way to his classroom.

As usual, it’s empty. Falco could probably sit anywhere he wants, but he ends up at his old desk, the second seat in the third row from the right. He sits down with a thud and lets his backpack fall off his shoulder. He pulls out his notebook and looks at today’s lesson that he copied from his homeroom teacher’s planner earlier last month: geometry, English, social studies, art, and science.

Falco dutifully completes his assignments for the day. He even double-checks his answers once he’s done. Maybe he’ll look over the answer key after school if he feels like it. He spends his break staring at the window at the kids playing ball in the field or playing pranks on each other in the quad. He doesn’t make any attempt to join them.

At 2:15, Falco packs his things. He puts away his pens and pencils neatly in his case, zips up his backpack, and slings his bag over his shoulder. As he walks to the door of the classroom, he thinks he imagines footsteps running down the hall. It makes him wonder if the impending apocalypse is making him go mad because he can’t imagine why anyone would be here when the world is going to end in a week. When he pulls open the door, he sees his friend Zofia about to reach for the door.

“Oh, good,” Zofia pants. She bends over, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Ashy blonde locks are falling out of her ponytail. “I was afraid I missed you. You weren’t replying to any of my texts.”

“We’re not allowed to use our phones in school,” Falco says as he looks down at her.

Zofia looks up, an expression of mild disbelief on her face. “Geez, I can’t believe you’re still doing this.” She straightens up and sighs. “Our teachers probably appreciated what a goody-two-shoes you were back when they actually cared about their jobs, but I assure you that they don’t care at all now that the world is about to end.”

Falco rolls his eyes and walks past Zofia. He can hear her following him from the extra footsteps that accompany his. “What do you need? I thought you were busy trying to pet ‘every dog in the world’ or whatever before the asteroid strikes.”

Zofia’s arm links with Falco’s and she flashes a cheesy smile at him. “I realized it was impossible so I settled for petting ‘as many dogs as possible.’ I’m pretty satisfied with my work, so I’ve decided on pursuing something else.” She doesn’t immediately follow up with what it is she’s working on, and Falco knows she’s absolutely itching for him to ask.

“... What is it?” Falco asks.

“I’m glad you asked!” Zofia says, tugging him closer to her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and flips through it for a bit before finding what she wants to show Falco. On her screen is a long post on one of the message boards their classmates post on. “There’s this girl. She’s totally crazy.”

A glance at the phone screen confirms Zofia’s words. It’s a post that looks like it’s been circulating through message boards of different middle schools in their area. The original poster is someone named Gabi Braun, aged 14, and she attends Liberio Middle School across the city. Her post is a call for all people with superpowers to contact her so that they can save the world together.

Falco looks at Zofia and wrinkles his nose. “And you’re showing me this because …?”

“Because she’s absolutely crazy, but she’s interesting,” Zofia replies as she pockets her phone. She smiles at Falco. “Let’s go visit her.”

“What? No!” Falco says. He yanks his arm away from Zofia. “You said she was nuts! Why would we look for her?”

“Because the world is ending in a few days, so we might as well do something stupid,” Zofia replies. She links her arm around Falco’s again and pouts, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit curious? There’s a girl our age who thinks she can save the world if she gathers enough nutjobs who think they have superpowers.”

Falco isn’t curious at all. “I have homework,” he says to Zofia, which he knows is the wrong answer. Although Zofia hasn’t tried to convince Falco to stop going to school like the rest of their peers, she has been pretty vocal about how stupid she thinks Falco is for living the end of his life so mundanely.

“You also have a friend,” Zofia says. She begins to tug at him after every other word, trying to get him to follow her. “A friend you care about deeply and don’t want to see hurt if she ends up walking into some creep’s trap.”

“Then why are you going at all if you know it might be dangerous?” Falco mutters, but he knows Zofia’s right. His normal school life consists of him going straight home after classes and doing his homework, but it occasionally includes him reluctantly following Zofia sometimes to make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. He’s not too surprised when he ends up walking with Zofia to the meeting place the poster mentioned in their message.

Normally, Falco and Zofia would have taken the bus into the city, but it’s difficult to flag down a bus. The schedules are erratic at best and oftentimes buses don’t show up on schedule at all. It is the end of the world, after all.

It’s a curious thing, seeing the city at the end of the world. It’s a little bit like how the movies portray it, but not at all like the movies at the same time. Cars fill the street while drivers honk their horns and shout at each other to hurry up because they don’t want to spend their last days on earth stuck in traffic. The doors and windows of so many shops and buildings are smashed in and their contents gone. If people aren’t running around and screaming at each other on the street, they’re walking around like it’s a normal day save for the fact that they’re all looking for the next thing they want to do before they die.

“I’d suggest going to the mall downtown or something later, but it’s probably ransacked like everywhere else,” Zofia says with a wistful sigh.

“We could have just gone to the arcade in our town,” Falco mutters. The internet café and the arcade in their town is a mess because none of the gamers there bother to clean up their trash anymore, but at least there are still computers there and nobody has hauled off the arcade machines.

The two wander about the city and linger near the subway station entrance the message board poster had mentioned. There are people going up and down the stairs to the subways and some kids skating around and doing tricks on their skateboards. Adults pass by hurriedly with their phone stuck to one ear, rushing to make plans with someone on the other end because they have limited time left. It feels like Zofia and Falco are just standing frozen in time while the world rushes around them.

“Who do you think it is?” Zofia whispers in Falco’s ear.

Falco scans the scene, his eyes quickly flitting over anyone that didn’t look like a middle schooler. He doesn’t think it would be any of the skateboarders, so he glances over them too. Whoever this Gabi Braun is, she doesn’t have any interest in anything aside from saving the world with her impossible idea. She must be looking for people just like he and Zofia are looking for her.

Finally, his eyes land on a girl their age with a stern expression on her face. Her dark eyebrows are knitted together and she turns her head from side to side every few seconds as she scans the subway station, her brown hair whipping from side to side. She leans against the railing near the subway entrance, her arms folded across her chest. Somehow, she looks familiar, but Falco doesn’t know why.

“Her,” Falco says. He raises his hand and points to her only to realize it’s rude and quickly lets his hand fall to his side. He’s about to jerk his head over in the girl’s direction, but Zofia has already seen who he was pointing to and starts dragging him over.

“Excuse me,” Zofia says, catching the girl’s attention. The girl’s gaze is intense, her brown eyes scrutinizing the two of them, but Zofia doesn’t shrink away from the girl like Falco does. Instead, Zofia holds out a hand cordially and gives the girl a friendly smile. “You’re Gabi Braun, right? I’m Zofia, and this is my friend Falco. We saw your message reposted on our school forum and wanted to help you.”

The girl looks at them suspiciously but takes Zofia’s hand, shaking it reluctantly. “You really want to help?” Her eyes flit towards Falco, who looks down immediately. “Why do you want to help me?”

“Hmm,” Zofia hums and tilts her head to the side. “Because the end of the world isn’t something I’m particularly looking forward to.” She looks over at Falco and, with a grin, elbows him playfully in the ribs. “And this guy doesn’t have anything better to do, so I had him come along.”

“What were you doing before?” Gabi asks curiously.

Falco purses his lips. It’s not that he’s ashamed about how he’s spending his last days. Living plainly is a far better choice than some people have made. Apparently, some people decided that murder was something they needed to check off their bucket list. If you ask Falco, he thinks being a normal student is far better than being a last-minute murderer. Still, it’s not something he wants to say out loud to a stranger.

He kicks at the sidewalk and mumbles, “Just … homework and stuff.”

To his surprise, Gabi doesn’t ridicule him or ask why. She simply nods as if this is a perfectly normal way for someone to spend their last days. She doesn’t ask them any more questions, somehow satisfied with Falco’s answer. She’s already digging around in her back for something and pulls a laptop out of her bag.

“I’m still waiting for people to show up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nobody ends up showing,” Gabi says, gesturing for the two of them to sit beside her. Her tone doesn’t sound disappointed at all. In fact, she sounds rather like she expected this to happen.

Zofia sits on one side of Gabi, peering curiously over the brunette’s shoulder as she types away. Falco wants to sit beside Zofia. It would be more comfortable than sitting next to a stranger, but he would have difficulty seeing the screen. Reluctantly, he takes a seat next to Gabi.

“I’ve been looking at videos,” Gabi tells them. “People have been submitting them after seeing my message on the school forums.”

“Is there anyone particularly interesting to you?” Zofia asks.

“Not really,” Gabi says. She opens up a folder on her screen and a video file pops up. She presses Play. “Technology lets you edit anything into videos now. Some of these powers look super fake, but I still have to take a chance in case they do have powers and are interested in saving the world, right?”

The three watch the video play out. There’s a man on the screen claiming to have pyrokinesis. He’s wide-eyed and staring at the camera, holding out his hands with his palms to the ceiling. His explanation of his powers is similar to everyone else who has posted these kinds of videos on social media: he was just born with them and never bothered to reveal them until now for fear of being ostracized.

The flame doesn’t ignite right away. It’s a flicker — a spark, really — that grows into the smallest flame. The fire is hardly the size of the man’s fingertip, but he looks delighted just the same. The three children watching are not as thrilled.

“You really think this guy can save the world?” Zofia asks, raising her eyebrow.

“I don’t think this guy can save anyone,” Gabi replies. She’s so brutally honest that it would be funny if they weren’t discussing the fate of the world. “But I’m taking whatever help I can get at this point.”

They spend the rest of that afternoon looking through applications. Most of them are just internet trolls and Gabi has to roll her eyes more than once before closing out the applicant’s video. There are a few promising candidates Gabi moves to a separate folder but only when Falco and Zofia also agree that the person might be worth looking into. They go through written applications too, often filtering out any CVs that aren’t descriptive enough and sometimes those that are too descriptive and more fitted to some sci-fi character description than an actual person. Gabi calls a few numbers from the short list of people that the three all agreed on, but nobody ever picks up. Nobody shows up either. Still, Gabi doesn’t seem to be discouraged.

“Why are you doing this?” Falco asks at one point while they’re watching a video of a man who claims he can read people’s thoughts.

“Hm?” Gabi says, looking away from the video.

“Just … this whole thing,” Falco says and vaguely waves at the screen. “You know it too. This might not work, so why even bother trying to save the world?”

Gabi frowns and her eyebrows knit together like she doesn’t quite understand Falco’s question. “Well, what else would I be doing?”

Falco doesn’t respond because, well, he doesn’t have an answer. It’s not like he knows what to do with the rest of his life either. If Zofia hadn’t convinced him to come here, he’d just be at home with his head stuck in a textbook. Even if it’s useless, whatever Gabi is doing is far more interesting.

»»————- April 4, 2026 ————-««

Falco’s parents drop him off at the edge of the city. His mother had wanted to drop him off closer to his destination point, but Falco assured her that it wasn’t necessary. Besides, there were a lot of weirdos in the city, he reasoned, especially now that the apocalypse was coming. She reluctantly allowed him to be dropped off at the edge of the city, but not before giving him a can of pepper spray and a baseball bat in case he ran into anybody cruel enough to mug a middle schooler.

He doesn’t have any trouble meeting Gabi at the library they agreed to meet at. Zofia isn’t there with him after deciding this morning that saving the world wasn’t what she wanted to spend her last moments doing. She did, however, request that Falco send Gabi her best wishes, which Falco promised to pass along.

The two of them sit on the tenth floor of the library at a table by the window. The library isn’t exactly empty, but it’s not exactly filled up either. There are a few other visitors in the library with them. Some are seated at tables or couches, but others choose to sit between bookshelves, folding up their legs so that people can walk around if they need to get through. Hardly anyone pays attention to Falco and Gabi. They’re too busy flipping furiously through their books, eyes scanning the pages in seconds, as they try to finish their reading list before the world ends.

While Gabi watches more videos of superpowered applicants while Falco gathers books on powers that interest them: pyrokinesis, psychokinesis, time travel, to name a few. As he gathers research articles, he also stumbles across the section of the library dedicated to outer space and celestial bodies and decides to grab a few books on asteroids and meteors as well. There’s a slim chance that they might help, but Falco might as well try.

Gabi doesn’t talk much to Falco, too engrossed in her research to hold a conversation with him. He doesn’t talk much to her either. He does, on occasion, glance up at her to observe her progress, but she always seems to be staring at the screen with the same dissatisfied frown on her face. Every once in a while Gabi will lean over and ask Falco about whether or not a certain candidate looks promising, but his answer is almost always no and she goes back to staring at her screen.

At noon, the two take their lunch break. Gabi hadn’t brought anything. She tells Falco she was planning on just grabbing something from the snack machine near the elevators. The library remains one of the few places that was relatively untouched by thieves and vandals because not many people think “let’s rob the library” when they hear that the world is ending. Because Falco’s mother has a tendency to overpack his lunches, Falco decides to split his meal with Gabi. He figures that a sandwich is far better than whatever half-filled bag of chips Gabi would end up grabbing from the vending machine.

Falco munches on his katsu sandwich. It’s a favorite of his: two slices of pillowy milk bread with a thick cut of juicy pork cutlet covered in crispy bread crumbs wedged in between. A little butter and mustard give the sandwich a little bitterness that makes the tip of his tongue tingle and savory tonkatsu sauce drizzled over the thinly sliced cabbage underneath the katsu complete the simple but scrumptious sandwich.

He looks over to see if Gabi is enjoying her food as much as he is, but she’s scarfing it down so quickly that he isn’t sure she’s even taking the time to taste it. In between bites, she’s scrolling through her laptop with greasy fingers, frowning. A glance at the notebook beside her tells Falco that Gabi hasn’t found many promising candidates.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Falco asks. He’s halfway done with his lunch but Gabi is a bite away from finishing hers.

Gabi shrugs. She doesn’t look up as she answers. “I don’t know. It’s worth a shot, right?” She scrolls a bit more before she pauses, her fingers hovering above the touchpad. Her eyes flicker over to Falco so suddenly that he nearly drops his sandwich. Gabi narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, her attention entirely on the boy. Her gaze is intense and she scoots to the edge of her seat, leaning in towards Falco. “You’re awfully skeptical about this plan for someone who’s trying to save the world.”

Falco gulps, trying not to shy away from her intense gaze. If he were a turtle, he’d be curled back in his shell right now. “I just want to make sure we’re not wasting our time,” he mumbles.

“Falco, do you not believe that people can have superpowers?” Gabi asks.

Falco is about to shake his head and say that that’s not the case but before he can Gabi settles back into her seat, arms folded across her chest, and announces, “I have a superpower.” She says it quite loudly, loudly enough for her voice to be heard across the entire floor, but people are too preoccupied with their reading to pay much attention to her although a few readers do shoot her a dirty look for being so loud.

Falco is not quite sure what he expected Gabi to say, but it wasn’t that. He sits there awkwardly, sandwich still half-finished in his hands. After a moment, he asks, “Er, what is it?”

Gabi pops the last bit of her sandwich in her mouth and wipes her fingers on her jeans. After she chews and swallows, she leans towards Falco once more and gives him an impish grin. “I can read people’s minds. Telepathy,” she tells him. She doesn’t wait for him to ask for a demonstration.

Gabi puts one hand on Falco’s chest and stares deeply into his eyes. Falco’s heart is beating wildly in his chest. If by some miracle Gabi doesn’t hear it, Falco’s certain that she’ll be able to feel it underneath her fingertips. She doesn’t say anything about it, though, just continues to stare at him with those intense brown eyes of hers as she reads every single thought racing through his mind right now, like how he’s never been quite this close to anyone, how he’s never had his heart beat quite this fast, or how he thinks he might just die right here right now before the asteroid even hits.

Suddenly, Gabi’s face breaks into a smile and she pulls her hand away, Falco’s chest feeling achingly empty now. Gabi is laughing now, but Falco doesn’t have any idea why.

“God, I didn’t think you’d believe me,” she laughs. She’s laughing so hard that it’s difficult to make out what she’s saying. “I didn’t think you’d believe me, but you really did. You’re really gullible, aren’t you?”

Falco blinks, confused for a minute as he tries to process what just happened. “You … can’t read minds?” he says a beat too late.

“No, god, but you thought I did,” Gabi laughs.

“Then what’s your power?”

Gabi’s still giggling as she answers. “Something else. It’s not important. I’ll tell you if it ends up being useful.”

She’s laughing. She’s still laughing. It’s a laugh that comes from her stomach and has her clutching her sides. People are glaring because it’s disrupting the peace, and Falco feels like he should tell her to stop but he finds that he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even mind that she’s laughing at him. He just likes the sound of it.

»»————- April 5, 2026 ————-««

They sit with a pack of chocolate-covered biscuits shaped like little bamboo shoots between them. While Falco eats them one at a time, usually popping one in his mouth after he’s read a few pages of whatever book he’s reading, Gabi shovels them into her mouth by the handful without even looking. They’ve gone through their fifth pack of the little chocolate biscuits and it’s not even noon yet.

“Do you think you can do it?” Falco asks at some point.

“Save the world?” Gabi asks. She sucks her thumb, trying to get the chocolate off. Falco nods and Gabi says, “Well, who else if not me?”

“Literally anyone else,” Falco replies because, well, they’re only kids.

“Right, and just die young, dumb, and stupid like every other kid our age,” Gabi says with a roll of her eyes. “No thanks. I’d rather have died trying to do something. Besides, it’s not as if the adults are having that much luck either.”

Gabi slides her laptop over so that Falco can see the screen. On it, a video plays of a rocket shooting into space. The caption on the bottom reads “NASA Space Missile Failure.” Falco vaguely recalls hearing about the missile launch earlier this morning. The scientists were excited about it, hoping that the missile would collide with the oncoming asteroid and shatter it into smaller pieces that would burn up in the atmosphere, but it seems like they had been excited for nothing. Apparently, they had miscalculated the trajectory of the missile and it would miss the asteroid completely.

“That sucks,” Falco says finally. He’s not exactly sure how he feels about the news. He should probably feel disappointed, but he feels the same way he did a month ago when he heard the world was ending: perfectly indifferent.

Gabi shrugs. “Armin said it wouldn’t work. He said their calculations were off,” she says. She glances at Falco and adds, “Armin’s a genius. He’s my mentor’s husband.”

“A genius? Is that his superpower?” Falco asks. If Gabi knows someone who’s a literal genius, he doesn’t see why they’re doing all this work. Shouldn’t this genius, whoever he is, have all the answers?

Gabi thinks for a minute, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not sure. My mentor just says Armin’s a genius, but he’s way too humble to admit it,” Gabi finally answers. She frowns, leaning forward with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “He can’t help us though. He’s busy tending to his fish.”

Falco isn’t certain he’s heard her right. “His fish?” he repeats.

“Yeah. He’s a marine biologist. He likes to have some fish at home,” Gabi explains like it’s the most normal thing in the world to take care of your fish when the world is about to end. “He says it calms him down to see them swim around.”

Falco is still trying to wrap his head around all of this — Gabi and her willingness to save the world, the genius she just spoke of who just wants to take care of his fish, and the asteroid hurtling towards the earth. He doesn’t understand any of it. “So it’s okay for you, a kid, to try and save the world while a literal genius is taking care of fish at his house instead of trying to prevent the apocalypse?”

Gabi blinks. “Yes,” she replies as if there could be no other answer. “Because it’s what I want to do. And it’s what he wants to do. Why should we be doing anything different?”

“But shouldn’t you be doing, I don’t know, kid things?” Falco asks. He’s starting to feel a little frustrated talking to her. This isn’t what she should be doing at all. This isn’t what they should be doing. They should be enjoying the last few days they have together. They should be playing games at the arcade, or wandering around the empty mall, or eating snacks at the park, not … whatever this is.

“Maybe. Probably. But I don’t want to,” Gabi says. She turns the laptop back and starts typing away. “I don’t like the idea of doing something just because the world is ending. I’ve always done what I wanted, so I don’t have any regrets. This is the only thing I want to do now.”

It’s more than Falco can say. Like Gabi, he doesn’t have anything he wants to do, but then he’s never really ever wanted to do anything. All his life he’s been floating from place to place and participating in whatever was expected of kids his age: attending school, joining a sports team, learning an instrument. He didn’t care about any of it. He doesn’t have any regrets about it, but he does feel a sudden wave of admiration for Gabi. She’s saving the world now because she feels like it, but she could just as easily leave this task for another if something else strikes her fancy. Falco wants to know what it feels like to pursue something so impulsively.

He wants to want things. He wants to be with Gabi. He wants to help her save the world.

“Is there something you want to do before the world ends?” Gabi asks. She’s just asking to be polite. Her eyes are already glued to the screen of her laptop, her face turned away from him. “You don’t seem to be as into the whole ‘save the world’ thing as I am.”

Falco shrugs even though she’s not watching. “I don’t mind it.” Falco could leave it at that. He doesn’t have to say anything else, but he does. “There isn’t really else I want to do anyway,” he tells her, but it’s a lie.

He wants to hold her hand.

»»————- April 6, 2026 ————-««

Falco has never looked forward to anything as much as the researching sessions he has with Gabi. He’s never really looked forward to anything before, actually, and he’s not sure why being surrounded by books and looking at (mostly) fake superhero videos with Gabi appeals to him so much.

He likes a lot of things about the way Gabi works. She’s quiet and focused, eyebrows knitted as she decides whether or not to call another applicant that probably won’t pick up. She never gets discouraged even though things don’t look promising. They’ve probably called dozens of people and only a third have actually responded. Most of them turned out to be trolls, which isn’t surprising considering they were taking submissions from strangers on the internet, but Gabi still carries on. Maybe it’s Gabi’s passion and stubbornness that has drawn Falco to her, but it feels like it’s more than that too.

He feels, in a way, like Gabi completes him. Before he met her, he was wandering aimlessly. Now he doesn’t know what he’d do without her. Staying at home and studying seems unbearable when the option of being with Gabi exists.

Falco isn’t sure how Gabi feels about him. He doesn’t even know if she has any feelings towards him — if she likes him, hates him, or just feels completely indifferent. At any rate, she doesn’t seem to mind spending her last few days on earth with him, and that makes him feel a little better about the world ending. Occasionally, he thinks about how Gabi probably wouldn’t notice if he stopped coming to help her. Well, she might notice, but Falco doesn’t think Gabi would change her routine. She’d just continue saving the world with or without his help.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Falco asks at one point. Gabi looks at him with a raised eyebrow and he elaborates “We hardly know each other and we’re just here … saving the world together.”

Gabi frowns, a thoughtful look on her face. “I don’t think it’s weird,” she says to Falco, and he feels his heart flutter in his chest. “A lot of weird stuff has happened because it’s the end of the world and we just happened to meet each other. If a total weirdo had showed up instead of you, then maybe I would be saving the world with them and we never would have met.” She doesn’t seem to mind the thought of working with a total weirdo in place of Falco.

Falco slumps in his seat, deflated, but Gabi doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m glad it was you though,” Gabi continues.

Falco lifts his head. “Really?” He scoots closer in his seat, curious. “Why?”

Gabi twirls her pen between her fingers, looking upward as she thinks. After a moment, she shrugs. “I don’t know,” she answers. “It just feels better knowing I’m working with someone. It’s better than working alone, I guess. I might feel the same way even if it were someone else, but I also might not. Still, I’m glad it’s you.”

It doesn’t really mean anything. Like she said, it could have been some other kid who ended up answering Gabi’s post and helping her with her impossible quest to save the world. It could have been some other person sitting with her and looking up useless articles on asteroids and meteorites. It could have been someone else having this conversation with her. But, Falco reminds himself, it wasn’t. It’s him sitting beside her, eating snacks and discussing the end of the world. It probably isn’t fate that they met, but it kind of feels like it is.

»»————- April 7, 2026 ————-««

Tired of the same snacks from his pantry, Falco decides to try the café on the first-floor of the library for some new things to eat. He had asked Gabi what she wanted and she told him to just get her anything.

The first floor café is relatively well-stocked for the end of the world, but maybe it’s because bookworms prefer literature to satiate their appetites rather than food.

The display case, usually filled with dessert sandwiches with slices of strawberries and kiwi and slathered with whipped cream, is cleaned out, but the shelves behind the cash register are still stocked with different kinds of chips and candies. Falco scans the shelves, looking for his favorites: baked potato chips covered in rich butter, little rice crackers flavored with soy sauce and red pepper flakes, and chocolate cookies in the shape of tiny hamburgers.

Falco stares, for the longest time, at the other snacks and wonders what Gabi would like, if she has a preference for anything. Maybe he should have paid more attention when they were eating together to see if she ever seemed to gravitate to certain foods he brought or commented on any of the snacks they ate together, but he can’t recall anything. He feels stupid for not noticing, but he also doesn’t want to keep Gabi waiting and ends up grabbing whatever grabs his attention.

He arrives at their designated research table, huffing from the flights of stairs he had to climb. Falco deposits the snacks rather ungracefully in front of Gabi, letting them fall out of his hands and onto the table. Gabi looks up from the noise, her eyebrows raised, but she smiles when she sees that it’s him and Falco’s heart flutters almost painfully in his chest.

“These are yours,” Falco says, shoving Gabi’s share of the snacks towards her.

“Thanks.” Gabi picks up a snack with a gray cartoon cat on the wrapper. It’s a puffed corn stick. Pizza-flavored, the wrapper says. She opens it with a grin. “How did you know these were my favorite?” she asks.

“I … I don’t know,” Falco says. “Must have been a lucky guess.”

But it doesn’t feel like it.

It feels like he knew, from the beginning, what she had wanted. It’s like he had let his instincts take over when he had randomly chosen snacks for Gabi and somehow selected her favorite ones. It was as easy as picking food for someone he had known for his whole life, which is impossible because he hadn’t even known Gabi a week ago. Maybe, then, he had known Gabi in a past life and that’s how he happened to pick her favorites. Or maybe they really are fated to be together and knowing things like her favorite food are just second nature to him. The latter two explanations are almost impossible and yet so much more likely than the first explanation. He doesn’t know how to explain it though, not without seeming crazy, so he doesn’t say anything.

»»————- April 8, 2026 ————-««

Tomorrow is the end of the world and they are no closer to saving everyone from the asteroid hurtling towards the earth than they were yesterday. In fact, they are no closer to saving the world than they were a week ago when this effort began or even a month ago when they had first found out the world was going to be destroyed. Their attempt to prevent the world’s end was futile and their effort today will probably be equally useless. Still, here they are on the tenth floor of the library doing the same thing they did yesterday.

The sun is about to set and it’s almost time for them to head home. Falco wonders if they’ll be here tomorrow spending their last moments at the library when the world ends or if Gabi will call it quits and suggest they spend their last day without each other. He’s too afraid to ask.

They pack up silently, Gabi slipping her notebooks and laptop into her bag as Falco arranges the books into neat stacks on the slim chance that they’ll return tomorrow. Falco notices that Gabi packs the same way she always does — quickly, dumping everything into her backpack as if she doesn’t care if they get damaged — and it stings a little bit that she doesn’t pack a little slower this time like he does just so that he can spend a few seconds more with her. Maybe he shouldn’t be so disappointed because it’s obvious she doesn’t care for him more than she would care for a coworker or a classmate she was randomly paired with to complete an assignment.

Falco is silently pining when Gabi speaks, startling him.

“So, the world ends tomorrow,” she says easily. It’s like she’s talking about the weather. “Are you satisfied with how you spent your last days? No regrets?”

They’re two questions that seem related, but Falco’s answers for them are very different.

He is satisfied with how he spent his last days. The past week perhaps isn’t as spectacular by other people’s standards. Falco didn’t go bungee jumping or skydiving or deepsea divings like some of his peers. Some people would argue that the way he spent his last few days was as boring as the way he spent the past month, although Falco would argue that it was infinitely better because he had Gabi. He’s convinced that however he chose to spend his last days, as long as they were with Gabi, he would be happy. He could even watch the grass grow with Gabi and he’d be completely content. So, yes, he’s completely satisfied with how he spent his last few days, but he has many regrets.

He regrets not meeting Gabi earlier. He regrets not being able to spend more than a week with her. He regrets not doing things with her that kids their age should be doing: playing soccer in the field, catching butterflies by the river and letting them go, and hanging out at the arcade and beating their high scores. But most of all, he regrets feeling this way about Gabi and not being able to tell her.

Falco doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he asks, “Do you?”

“No,” Gabi replies with a smile and it makes Falco feel a little better about the ache in his chest.

»»————- April 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco doesn’t expect Gabi to call him the next day. Before bidding each other goodbye yesterday, Gabi suggested they not see each other again.

“You should spend the day with your family or something,” Gabi said to him. “Your parents probably want to spend their last day with their kids. I’ll just do this by myself. And, you know, thanks for everything.”

He had wanted to tell her that it was fine if they spent their last day together. He spent his whole life with his parents. He should at least spend one more day with Gabi if this is his last one, but he bit his tongue and said goodbye to her with the fakest smile before turning on his heel and walking as quickly as he could to where his mom would pick him up.

Falco was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling when Gabi called and told him to meet him at the bottom of the hill near the outskirts of his town. She said her mentor was coming back today and that they could visit her to see if there was still a possibility of saving the world. Falco didn’t even question her or ask if they really have any hope after their days of research lead to nothing. He just leapt out of bed, told his parents he would be out and that he loved them, and biked up to the hills where Gabi asked to meet him.

When he gets there, Gabi is already waiting for him, bundled in a navy peacoat and a gray scarf tied loosely around her neck. Her face breaks out in a grin when she sees him and she waves a gloved hand to greet him.

“How did you get here so fast?” Falco huffs once he finally reaches her. The hill gets too steep for him to bike, so he gets off his bicycle and walks with Gabi beside him.

“My uncle Reiner drove me here,” Gabi replies, shoving her hands in her pockets. She rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches with a smile. “He says he wanted to spend a little more time with his favorite niece before she becomes famous for saving the world.”

“You really think we’re gonna do it?” Falco asks.

Gabi shrugs. “I think if my mentor thinks so, we probably have a good chance.”

They arrive at the mentor’s house at the top of the hill. It’s small, more like a tiny cabin than an actual house. When Gabi knocks, they’re greeted by a blond man with big blue eyes. The man smiles when he sees Gabi, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hello, Gabi. I guess Mikasa told you she’d be coming back today,” the man says. He looks over Falco. “Hello. You must be Gabi’s friend Falco. I’m Armin.” The man offers a hand for Falco to shake.

Falco nods, wondering why the man’s name sounds so familiar. It’s only when he’s shaken the man’s hand that he remembers Gabi had mentioned Armin a few days ago when they were researching in the library. He’s the genius that likes to spend his days taking care of fish.

Falco follows Gabi when the man invites them into the cabin. Falco’s a little taken aback at how simple the interior is. The living room is small and the kitchen is smaller with only the essentials. There isn’t even a microwave.

“Sit down,” Armin says, gesturing at the dining table in the middle of the room. He heads towards the kitchen cabinets where he takes out three mugs. “I’ll make tea for us while we wait for Mikasa.”

“Can we see your fish later, Armin?” Gabi asks. She’s already settled down in a chair, kicking her legs back and forth. It’s clear that she feels at home here. When she notices that Falco hasn’t taken a seat yet, she gestures for him to sit down at the seat closest to her. To Armin, she continues, “I was telling Falco about you and he was curious about what a genius would be up to at the end of the world if he wasn’t trying to prevent the apocalypse.”

Armin chuckles. “Do you like fish, Falco?” he asks. He smiles when Falco makes a surprised noise, an answer stuck in his throat. “Sure, we can take a look a little later.”

Over apple tarts and tea, Gabi and Armin fill Falco in on Mikasa. She’s Armin’s wife, Gabi’s mentor, and the key to saving the world. Mikasa has a superpower, Gabi explains, that allows her to identify other people with superpowers and what those powers are. She helps people utilize their powers, but she took off for a month when the end of the world was announced to gather people with powers that might prevent the asteroid from crashing into the earth.

“Did Mikasa tell you if she met any promising people?” Gabi asks. She’s licked her plate clean and cinnamon sticks to her lips.

Armin shakes his head, a resigned smile on his face. “Unfortunately, no. She said all the candidates she met didn’t have any sort of useful power, but who knows? Maybe she’ll meet someone on the way here that can stop the meteor.”

“Ah, it’s a meteor now?” Falco asks, sitting up in his seat.

“It’s been one for a while,” Armin says. He glances out the window for a second. It’s not blue like it was when Falco woke up this morning. It’s orange now., not like a sunrise but more like someone has set the sky on fire. “We should be able to see it soon. The estimated time of impact is soon if I recall correctly. Hopefully, we get to see Mikasa soon.” His eyebrows are knitted together in concern, but Gabi looks just as unbothered as ever.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Gabi says. She collects her empty plate as well as Falco and Armin’s before depositing them in the sink. It’s an awfully normal thing to do considering the fact that the dirty dishes won’t matter when the earth is destroyed. She lets them soak in the sink and then turns to Armin. “Can we go see your fish now? Falco hasn’t seen them yet.”

“Sure,” Armin says with a smile. He gets up from the table and gestures for Falco to follow him. “Let’s go see the fish.”

Armin leads the children to a side room. Inside is a large glass fish tank with so many plants, shells, and rocks that Falco doesn’t see the fish at first. He and Gabi crouch beside the tank, their faces not quite touching the glass. Falco can see neon fish the size of his pinky darting back and forth between plants. He spots a miniature catfish the size of his thumb hiding behind a rock while a school of ten or so black and white striped fish zips around the 50-gallon tank. There are many more fish that Falco spots, lots of which he doesn’t know the name of but Armin patiently points them all out and tells Falco both the scientific and the common names of each fish and their habits. It’s clear that he loves it, taking care of the fish and looking after them, and Falco thinks he understands a little bit why Armin has chosen to spend the rest of the world like this. Occasionally, Gabi pipes in with whatever she remembers about each fish, usually their behavioral patterns she’s noticed when she’s visited, and Armin always grins whenever she speaks.

The three don’t notice when Mikasa arrives. They’re too busy staring at the fish swimming back and forth in the tank without a care in the world. The fish can’t grasp the fact that the world is ending. After all, their world only consists of the four glass walls that encase them and anything outside doesn’t concern them. It’s only when the door to the room opens and Mikasa steps in that the three realize that she’s returned. The fish, however, just keep swimming.

“That’s a nice way to spend the end of the world,” Mikasa comments. She has a tired smile on her face. She wears a soft cream-colored turtleneck, a long black coat hanging over her arm. “I see Gabi has joined us. As has her friend.” The woman nods at Falco.

“H-hello,” Falco stammers. He’s not sure what he was expecting Mikasa to look like. Perhaps like a woman with all the answers, someone who looked like she had seen the world, but she doesn’t. She just looks like any other woman, maybe a little more tired than other women, but still just a normal person. She doesn’t look like she has an amazing superpower, but then again neither does Gabi nor any of the potential candidates that claimed to have powers. “I’m Falco.”

“Ah, yes,” Mikasa says with a nod. “Gabi mentioned you before. I’m Mikasa, her mentor.” She drapes her coat over a nearby chair and walks over to join the three of them beside the fish tank.

“Did you find anyone?” Gabi asks. She looks out towards the living room, craning her neck to see if Mikasa had brought someone they didn’t notice.

“No, nobody that could save the world, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mikasa sighs, shoulder slumped. “Although, I did run into a guy who was convinced that the only way to save the world was to destroy it. I got away from him as quickly as possible.”

“Probably a smart decision,” Armin says with a nod, and Mikasa smiles in reply.

“Well, shall we go watch the end of the world together?” Mikasa asks, putting an arm around Gabi. She looks around at the others. “I heard it was going to be quite spectacular. Like a meteor show in the middle of the day.” Her eyes settle on Falco and her smile begins to falter. Her brows knit together and she opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something.

Armin notices the change in her demeanor and looks back and forth between Falco and Mikasa. “What’s wrong? Are you …?” It seems like something clicks in his head and he quickly turns to Falco. With a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Armin asks quickly, “Falco, do you have a power you haven’t told us about?”

The question startles Falco and he jerks away from Armin’s hand in surprise. “I … I don’t know,” he says, stumbling over his words. He’s never felt like he had any kind of superpower. He’s never shown any sign of being special. He’s always just been … normal.

“You … do you not know?” Mikasa asks, her eyebrows raised. She looks at Gabi. “Falco can save the world.”

It’s too much for Falco to take in when the world is about to end so soon. He has too many questions like: What power is he supposed to have? How come he didn’t know about it before? Is there still time to save everyone or is it too late? He opens his mouth to ask, not knowing which one will come out of his mouth first, when he feels a comforting hand on his elbow. Falco looks over to see Gabi standing beside him, somehow calm despite this revelation.

“What’s his power, Mikasa?”

“He can travel back in time,” Mikasa says, still staring at Falco with her intense gaze. “Under the event of an unexpected death like, say, getting hit by an asteroid, he can go back in time and prevent it from happening. But only if he remembers that it will happen in the first place.” Her eyes flicker towards Gabi for some reason.

“What … what does that mean ‘only if I remember’?” Falco asks Gabi.

Gabi’s biting down on her lip, expression contemplative. Finally, she tells Falco, “My power is that I’m unforgettable. If you reset your time after the meteor hits, usually you won't remember what happened, but you will if I use my power. You’d be able to remember me and everything we’ve done together. If you go back in time, maybe you can find a way to save the world because you’ll know what to expect.”

“Then … then that’s good news!” He doesn’t know why everyone around him isn’t jumping up and down in excitement right now. They’ve found a way to save the world. If not this time, then the next time or the time after that. “Isn’t this good news?”

“I mean, it is,” Gabi says. She doesn’t sound as confident as she usually does. Instead, she’s hesitant, almost shy. Falco doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gabi shy before. She’s looking at the floor now, kicking at the hardwood floor with her sock-clad feet. “It’s just that … I have to make you fall in love with me to make you remember me.”

Falco’s mouth falls open and no words come out.

“It’s not like it’s hard,” Gabi says almost hurriedly, more because she’s embarrassed than in a rush to save the world. She’s shed off her embarrassment and assumed her usual confident demeanor. “I’m very lovable, you know. It’s just …” Her voice trails off again.

“She has to seal it with a kiss,” Mikasa finishes, and Falco can see why Gabi was so embarrassed. His cheeks redden just from the thought of kissing Gabi. Mikasa adds rather apologetically, “It’s just the way it works, her power. She needs to kiss you.”

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course,” Gabi adds. She’s still avoiding his gaze, her eyes on the floor. “I’m fine if you’d rather not. You might just be stuck in the loop all by yourself. It’d be a little less painful since you won’t remember each time but still -”

“I’m okay with it,” Falco says.

Gabi looks up, surprised. “You are?”

“Yeah,” Falco says. “I’m … I’m fine with it. Let’s save the world. Together. That’s what our entire plan was, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Gabi repeats and she smiles. It’s different from how she’s smiled at him before. It’s a little bit bashful, a little bit excited. It looks nice on her, Falco thinks, and he’s so distracted that he’s surprised when he realizes she’s holding his hand.

Mikasa tugs at the elbow of Armin’s cardigan and the blond man nods. Taking Mikasa’s hand, he turns to the kids and says, “We’ll be out there just to give you two some privacy. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again soon.”

The door shuts softly behind the two adults. Falco doesn’t know if they wait in the living room or if they’ve gone outside to admire the sky. From the window, Falco can see that the sky has changed from a burnt orange to an explosion of different colors: shades of violet, pink, blue, and yellow all together almost like a watercolor painting. There are streaks of white in the sky. It’s like a meteor shower in the middle of the day just as Mikasa had said.

When he turns to Gabi, she’s looking at him with her hand still holding his. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, but she smiles when she sees he’s looking at her.

“Are you still up for it?” Gabi asks.

“Y-yeah,” Falco says, his voice cracking. He feels his face flush, but he likes the sound of Gabi’s giggle even if he’s the one she’s laughing at. He licks his lips nervously and leans in just the tiniest bit. “Is … is it okay if I kiss you?”

Gabi bites her lip and nods. She leans in too and Falco takes it as his cue to close his eyes and close the gap.

He doesn’t know what to expect from this kiss. Maybe warm lips pressing against his while his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. Maybe Gabi’s hands gripping his arms while his hands hover awkwardly around his waist. Maybe the world ending and, when his eyes open, Falco waking to thoughts of Gabi and how to find her next. But none of this happens. Instead, Gabi puts her hands on his shoulder and pushes him gently but firmly away.

“I can’t do it,” Gabi says.

“Wha-?”

“I can’t do it,” Gabi repeats with a shake of her head. She looks upset, but Falco doesn’t know why. He wonders what it is he did to offend her. Maybe she doesn’t want to kiss him. Maybe she finds him repulsive and doesn’t want to kiss him even if it means saving the world. Falco thinks this would be the case if Gabi didn’t look so apologetic. “I can’t kiss you. Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” Falco asks, panicked. He takes a glance at the window. Outside, the meteors in the sky look brighter. It’s like a million stars are falling to the earth. It’s only a matter of time before the world ends. He doesn’t know why Gabi is doing this.

“I don’t want to kiss you just to save the world and I don’t want you to kiss me for the same reason,” Gabi says, taking a step away from him. She shakes her head, tears pricking her eyes. “I want you to kiss me because you like me, not because you have some responsibility to save the earth so … so find me again and kiss me. Find me again and tell me you like me and kiss me hard. And then … and then we can save the world.”

But he wants to kiss her now. He wants to kiss her because he likes her. He wants to kiss her because the world is ending. He wants to kiss her even if the world isn’t ending. He wants to tell her that, but he doesn’t have the words.

Ever since Mikasa had revealed Falco’s power, everything has suddenly made sense to him. Falco understands now why his life felt so empty before he met Gabi and why he never felt the desire to do anything. He knows why he was so drawn to her when they first met that day in the city and why he felt like she completed him. It’s because they were meant to meet each other, meant to be together, meant to save the world.

Falco wants to kiss her so badly. He wants to hold Gabi’s face in his hands and put his lips on hers and kiss her until the world ends and when he wakes up again he’ll find her and kiss her again and again and again. He wants to tell her he likes her now and that he’ll like her again. He wants to tell her that he’d like her even if the world weren’t about to end, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t get to tell her anything.

A bright light flashes from the window. All Falco sees is Gabi and then white, and then nothing.

»»————- March 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes up and rolls out of bed. He brushes his teeth in the bathroom and brushes out his hair before blearily heading down the stairs where his mom is making breakfast. His father hasn’t left for work yet, he notices, which is rather strange. His mother hasn’t finished making breakfast yet and his brother isn’t dressed for school. He stares at them, wondering why they’re acting so odd. It takes them a moment to realize he’s there.

“The world is ending next month,” his mother tells him. She points at the TV screen that Falco’s father is staring at. On it flashes a picture of an asteroid hurtling towards the earth. The little banner underneath the picture says it’s far too big to burn up in the atmosphere. Scientists have no hope of human survival.

“If I knew, I would have slept in,” Colt mumbles.

His family looks shocked by the news, but Falco doesn’t feel anything. He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and starts to head out the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Colt asks him.

Falco pauses by the door. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment. He’s not sure what to do now that the world is ending. There isn’t anything in particular that he wants to do. “I’ll go to school, I guess.”

He leaves after assuring his parents that it’s fine, that he really doesn’t mind going to school because he isn’t sure what else to do. He stops by his mailbox and looks up at the sky. It’s clear and blue, no asteroid in sight.

He takes a deep breath and then releases it. It sounds like a sigh.

#falbi #snk #sf8 au #falco grice #gabi braun

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anythingandeverything1d · 4 years

Text

The tape (part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Your pov:

*pls.....can we just talk?* you sighed, tossing your phone onto the couch, ignoring Harry’s text, crossing your arms, and looking up at the ceiling while blinking away the tears that were trying to form. It had been two weeks. Two weeks since the sex tape leaked. Two weeks since your heart had broken. Two weeks since you had seen Harry. Two weeks since your life had changed.

The first week had been kind of a nightmare. You didn't really leave bed, or shower, or eat. You cried and tried figuring out the answer to the question that never really left your mind, why? The boys had helped you through a lot of it, making sure you were never alone and supporting you at your worst moments. They also did a lot to help you out of this funk, making sure to always give you a reason to laugh and smile. Louis, who most of your time had been spent with since you were living in his house, had brought Clifford and Bruce into your room for a snuggle party. The two of you had laid in bed watching rom coms and eating popcorn most of the day. Liam had made you dinner and started a marathon of Marvel movies, in the proper order of course, and even brought Bear over for a quick visit. Niall had watched a golf tournament with you and explained every aspect of the game, which you still didn’t really understand. He had also brought his guitar over, singing songs and making up lyrics throughout the day, whether they be about the pjs you were wearing or the boring reality tv show you had on repeat. All of the efforts combined had gotten you to the point you were at now, which was better but not great. Even though a part of your heart ached and yearned for Harry, you were feeling a little less like you were drowning in sorrow now.

“Good morning!” Niall shouted walking into the room. He was dressed in white pants, a navy blue sports jacket, and matching hat. He looked good, almost like he was about to put with Tiger Woods. “Go get dressed, we have plans today.” he said pointing to your room.

You groaned and fell onto the couch with a smile. “But why can’t we just hang out here...” you batted your eyelashes in his direction and he laughed.

“Ya can’t just sit in da house forever (y/n). It’s time to get out and face the world.”

“I’m not ready....”

“Yes ya are, now come on. I’m takin ya to my golf outing today.”

“Your golf outing?” You sat up and looked at him with your mouth open. You had never played golf, and only watched it with Niall.

“Yeah, I may hit a couple balls but it’s mainly just to have fun. I need a date anyway, all the other guys are married.” He laughed and you just looked at him. “Okay, not a date date just a date as friends...(y/n) it’s time to get out, I figured that a golf outing where there shouldn’t be a lot of fans, or paparazzi, or reminders of Ha- him would be a good thing for ya.” He walked over and poked your arm. “Now go get dressed so we aren’t late.”

You groaned but stood up walking to your room. Maybe he was right, maybe this would be nice. You didn’t exactly know what to wear to a golf outing, so you picked leggings and a crop top. It was casual but also cute and sporty. Niall grinned and gave a nod in approval before moving to the car.

You and Niall arrived a little late, which stressed you out, but Niall assured you was no problem at all. He introduced you to all of the other guys and their wives, all of which seemed super nice and included in their conversations. It was no wonder that he hung out on the golf course a lot. The sun was shining, it wasn’t too hot and you were able to just relax, have conversations with people who didn't know you or your story and just feel normal again.

Niall ended up playing a few holes, which you didn’t mind at all because you were able to have a few drinks and be driven around on a golf cart. You smiled as he squatted down looking at the path he was about to putt and when he made it and won you cheered extra loud. He walked over laughing and shaking his head and lifting you in his arms in a tight hug. “I’m going to have ta bring you with me more. I think you’re my good luck charm.”

“I think so too, it’s probably all of my cheering ya know?”

“Oh yeah? I bet.” Niall laughed and you grinned before looking back at you. “Ready to go home?”

You nodded and smiled. He drove you back to Louis and walked you to the door. You turned and smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For pushing me to get out today. I had a lot of fun.”

“Well thank you for being my cheerleader all day.”

“I’d love to do it again sometime, I meant it when I said that I had a lot fun..” You gave him a tight hug before running back inside. You were feeling good. Much better than you had the last two weeks. Louis was inside watching tv so you plopped down on the couch next to him. “Hey Lou, how was the studio?”

“It was good, yeah we just worked on a few songs today.” he smiled and looked surprised. “You seem to be in quite the good mood today.”

“I feel good, normal almost.” you grinned.

“So Niall’s golf outing helped did it?”

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun actually.”

“Well I’m glad you're feeling better today love because I was thinking maybe we could go out for dinner tonight?”

“Out where?” He opened his mouth to answer but you shook your head. “You know what? No. Never mind I don’t really care. I want to go out tonight. I think I’m ready to get back to out into life.” Louis grinned and stood up. “Well lets get moving then shall we?” He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the door. You were laughing at his gesture until the door opened. Anxious green eyes locked on yours and you froze. Louis shifted uncomfortably, gripping your hand tighter in his. “Harry.”

Harry didn’t even acknowledge Louis, his eyes were locked on yours. You stared back, your heart pounding in your ears. You felt your chest tighten as you broke eye contact. Louis stood protectively in front of you, his hand still grasping yours. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yeah, yeah I think it is.” Louis shot back. “What are you doing here?”

Harry ignored Louis and looked at you. “(y/n) can we talk? Just 5 minutes and then you can tell me to leave and I won't ever come back.”

“Harry why can’t you just leave her the fuck alone? I mean can’t you see-”

“Okay.” You let go of Louis’ hand walked forward. You looked at Harry. “5 minutes, no more.” Harry nodded, following you into the house and into your bedroom.

Louis grabbed your arm and you shook your head. “I need this. I need the closure. I need to know why.”

“(y/n)...”

“It’s only 5 minutes okay? I’m really okay this time. I know I can do this.”

Louis sighed and pulled you into a tight hug. “Just be careful okay. I don’t want to see you backtrack from where you were 10 minutes ago.” You nodded and smiled pressing a quick kiss to cheek and then following Harry down the hall.

You sat on your bed, watching Harry pace in front of you, running his fingers through his hair like he did when he was anxious. He hadn’t shaved recently, his facial hair was growing in thicker. He looked thinner as well, almost as if he hadn’t been eating properly. “1 minute down...” you sighed looking at him. He stopped and stared before groaning and sitting on the floor.

“I know you asked why I did it. I know you asked why I thought you weren't good enough. (y/n) the answer is...I don't know. I don’t know why I did it. I never wanted to hurt you. I can’t say I was drunk. I can tell you that it happened the weekend you went home...the one where we had that fight..and that’s not my excuse. I really don’t have any. I messed up. I messed this is up. Babe you are more than anything I have ever wanted in my life. You asking why you aren’t good enough? It breaks my heart that I even made you think you weren’t. You are the one thing that makes me smile, gets me through a hard day, the only girl in the entire world I would ever want next to me in bed the next morning. You’re the girl I see myself marrying, having kids with, and growing old with. I know you hate me. I don’t blame you, hell I hate myself too for what I did, but there is one thing that I know for sure. You are meant to be mine. You are-”

“Harry..”

“No. Let me finish. I only have 5 minutes and I need to get everything off my chest.” He took a deep breath and held your hand lightly in his. “The point I’m trying to make. I know you are the only one I want in my life. You are the only girl I will have these feelings for. You are my soul mate. I can’t apologize enough but I can promise to try and be better. I will spend my life working hard enough to deserve you. I know you haven’t forgiven me. I know there’s a chance you never will. But I love you. I can’t give up on us. I won’t give up on us. I will do ANYTHING to prove myself to you. Just tell me- tell me how I can gain your trust. Tell me there’s a chance....a chance that you will at least forgive me somewhere down the line.” Harry’s voice broke. He had tears running down his face. Seeing him hurt made your heart hurt. You leaned forward to wipe a tear off his cheek and he leaned forward at the same time. Your nose bumped his, your breath catching. He looked at and you looked at him. Harry leaned it. Your body froze, your mind got fuzzy. His breath was warm on your face and his lips hesitantly touched yours. You leaned in more, pushing your lips to his. His hands cupped your cheeks and you fell down onto his chest. For a minute, you let yourself divulge in the feelings. You wanted to drown in him, the one thing your body had missed the most in the last two weeks. His hands held onto you like it was a lifeline and he was struggling to stay a float.

Your phone buzzed at the same time as Harry’s and you reluctantly pulled away. You shook your head reading the headline on your phone. “(y/n) and Niall- the new (y/n) and Harry?” Harry must've read the same thing. He pulled farther away and shook his head, new tears forming in his eyes. He looked up, pain flashing across his face. “Harry-”

“My 5 minutes are up.”

“Wait.” You grabbed his hand. “There’s nothing-”

“It’s fine. If you want to talk more, you know where to find me...” He hurried from the room, slamming the door behind him.

You sank back against the bed, tears in your eyes. “Well?” Louis asked creeping into the bedroom. “He didn’t cause a scene did he?” You bit your lip and shook your head crying. “Hey now, it’s okay...” He sat next to you and pulled you into his chest. “Shh love don’t cry..he’s not worth it.”

Niall’s pov:

“I just wanted you all to know how thankful I am for the support you’ve given me. I-uh” Niall’s eyes trailed the comment section in his instagram live. He laughed and looked back at the camera. “I’m seein a lot of comments about (y/n) and I hanging out. Yeah we’ve been hanging out, I took her to my uh golf outing today. It was nice yeah, she’s a great girl.” His eyes were scanning the comments again and he grinned. “Did ya see the article released about you and (y/n)? Yeah, I did just read that a bit ago. Crazy stuff.”

“Niall!”

Someone pounding on the door made Niall freeze and shake his head quickly, setting the guitar in his arms down. “Alright, well I need to go do actual adult things like watching the tournament that’s on, so thanks for hanging with me on this live stuff but uh bye.” he laughed and ended the chat. The pounding on the door was still going on so he wandered over to the door and pulled it open. “Harry?” Harry stalked into the room, pushing Niall back. “What the hell?” Niall yelled.

“You ruined it!” Harry pushed his hands against Niall’s chest and knocked him back.

“Ruined what? Harry calm down!” Niall grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “Easy.. let’s just talk about what you’re upset over.”

“You. You and this fucking article.” Harry pushed him away and Niall took a deep breath.

“I swear-”

“We all had a pact.”

Niall laughed and pushed back his hair. “A pact when we were 19,20 years old. A pact that didn’t include a break up because you cheated on a girl and then released it in a sex tape.”

“(y/n) is mine.”

“No. (y/n) WAS yours.” Niall shook his head and walked Harry to the door. “Don’t you get it? You do more harm to her than you do good.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Really?”

“(y/n) is not as innocent as she appears to be.”

Niall laughed and shook his head. “How are you actually turning this on her?”

“I’m not. My mistakes are my own. But (y/n)? Her mistakes were present as well in our relationship.”

“What mistakes? (y/n) is literally an angel and you two never even had any kind of problems up until a few weeks ago.”

Harry laughed. “We didn’t publicize our mistakes. That’s how we got through them, but (y/n) had the exact same problem I did.”

“Problem?”

Harry crossed his arms in the front door and shook his head. He took a step out and started to walk away but froze and looked back at Niall. “(y/n) cheated on me first.”

---

Part 4

Part 3 is here! Hope it lives up to your expectations! More drama is coming I promise but I had to reset the scene. I know it’s not as exciting as the others lol. Thanks for all the messages of support and the following this story has received! You are all amazing! xoxo

#one direction #directioners #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagines #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #liam payne #liam payne fanfiction #Niall Horan #niall horan fanfiction #louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fanfiction

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prettyblfan · 4 years

Text

Coffee Shop Boy

That can remember the softness in those dark brown eyes as the wound on his knuckle was treated, That can remember quite well the pretty boy at the coffee shop in the oversized pink hoodie, That can definitely remember the pretty boy at the coffee shop and he might just have made a habit out of visiting at unreasonable hours with injuries. Sorawit the said pretty boy at the coffee shop looks forward to seeing the handsome boy that always turns up at 4.30am all battered and bruised but he just hoped he'd stop getting injured.

And somewhere along the lines they both fall in love, but neither of them are quite sure where.

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

All in all a That x Sorawit coffee shop au that no one asked for but I delivered anyway. Essentially, gangsta That falling in love with the pretty boy at the coffee shop all whilst his boss falls in love with the owner of the coffee shop that may or may not be the brother of that said pretty boy.

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

Chapter One.

From Sorawit perspective.

Sorawit flipped over the sign on the door, which read in bold.

The Pink Lily is now open for business.

It had been almost three months since him and Bun had moved to the area. So how did they end up with a coffee shop you wonder? Long story short Bun with his upright sense of justice couldn't stand to see a poor old lady being swindled out of her money so he decided to buy the coffee shop from her at the price it was actually worth. And i know what you're thinking why couldn't he just have told her she was being scammed, well you see she was desperate for the money as her husband needed urgent treatment. Hence why she was willing to settle for what ever price she could get.

So, that's how Sorawit ended up wiping down tables and organising coffee at 4.20am in the morning.

But of course he didn't mind he loved the Pink Lily with all his heart it was covered in his favourite thing flowers, from head to toe there wasn't a corner without them.

After all the Pink Lily was designed to be a place that you could go and put your worries to rest at least for a while.

Today was Sorawit's first time doing the early morning shift which started at 4am and ended 7am. He usually did the evening or late evening shift depending on how much work and studying he had to do as he was still a highschool student. Unfortunately that became a problem when he couldn't function in class or stay a wake for long, so Bun ended up having to switch him out so he'd have more time to rest in the evenings.

Regardless of the shift change Sorawit didn't really care although he would have to say that he preferred the early morning shift a lot better already as it was quieter and he got to work alone, usually with the evening shifts he would work alongside two other members of staff and although they were friendly and easy to get along with Sorawit albeit being the outgoing person he is liked to be alone sometimes. On the other hand the late evening shift was much worse he had to work along side Bun, not that his brother was bad no quite the contrary he was amazing and Sorawit couldn't live without him. You see the problem was after work he was a complete nightmare, and Sorawit tried to understand it must be hard to work in a hospital not only being a doctor but also a forensic pathologist but there is only so much nitpicking he can handle.

Being so caught up in his thoughts Sorawit hardly heard the door chime, he quickly turned around to greet the customer. He was slightly nervous as unlike the other shifts he didn't know what kind of customers he'd get and although Bun tried to ease his nerves by leaving a note with the coffees that the regular early morning customers would get and their names, Sorawit was pretty sure none of them arrived this early.

"Morning what can..." Sorawit trailed off fast, the rest of his sentence had already left his head as he stared at the handsome boy standing in the door way.

His black hair was push back and out of his face, allowing his facial features to stand out more. Although they had a certain sharpness to them Sorawit couldn't help but think he was kind of cute, the roundness of his face and the puffiness of he cheeks contrasted heavily with the rest of his overall look.

He was dressed in black from head to toe and if that didn't slightly intimidate Sorawit then the cold arura he gave off definitely did. But despite all of this one thing he couldn't deny was the fact that the boy standing in front of him was handsome, too much so that he lost half of his sentence just by looking at him.

"Can I have a caramel latte" the boy spoke as he sat down at the table closest to the door.

'How funny' Sorawit thought nodding his head at the boy, he would have never pegged him as the type to like sweet things he seemed way more like a bitter kind of guy.

The boys voice was alot deeper than he was expecting it to be and the fact that he never broke eye contact with him also made him feel a bit tingly. It was like he had ran a marathon, his heart was pounding in his chest.

'Should I ask Bun to check it out' he pondered the last thing he wanted to end up with was a heart condition.

"With cream or without" Sorawit replied after he had finished making the coffee.

"With." A short response came from the customer sat by the door.

After finishing the last touches on his latte Sorawit brought it over carefully, you see he had the tendency to be quite clumsy on his first day he managed to spill at least 10 cups of coffee in which resulted in Bun saying that he's lucky he's cute. He never really got what he meant by that how did being clumsy have anything to do with being cute?

"Would you like anything else to go with that we have pastries." Sorawit smiled gently at him before placing the coffee down on the table, whilst doing so he couldn't help but catch a glimps of the boys bleeding knuckle which he failed to see earlier.

Actually now looking at him closer he seemed to have faded bruises on his cheek and near his mouth.

"No." Hearing a response Sorawit quickly pulled his attention away from his face and turn around heading back to the kitchen area.

The entire time he felt eyes on him.

'I think I might seriously have a heart problem' he thought resting his hand against his chest.

Once he had managed to settle his heart he open the cupboard storing the first aid kit and pulled it out, before making his way back over to the table. By this time he had already finished half of his coffee.

"You're bleeding." Sorawit pointed out obviously but he didn't know how to go about the situation, wouldn't it be a bit strange if he asked.

"Umm" like before the boy kept his response short staring blanking at Sorawit.

Again Sorawit had seemed to lose the ability to breathe, he really needed to make a mental note to tell Bun about this.

"Do you want me to..." Sorawit trailed off unsure of what to say, he wasn't usually like this he was actually very confident around people he just met. However, Sorawit couldn't help but feel a bit nervous he didn't want to mess up.

Without a reply the boy simply just put his bleeding hand on the table.

"Ah" Sorawit quickly realised what the signal meant and pulled out the chair next to him.

Treating and bandaging wounds was no problem for him after all not only has he learnt from Bun but his whole family had worked in the medical field. His dad was a doctor whilst his mum worked in dentistry, when they were still alive he felt a huge amount of pressure to follow in their foot steps just like his brother. Although they had never forced him and were completely supportive in whatever he wanted to do he still felt as if it was like an unspoken rule. That coupled with the fact that Sorawit had no idea what he wanted to do in the future, the pressure had always seemed to build up but more so now after their deaths he felt as if he should honour them in some way.

"How did you get injured" Sorawit spoke pulling himself out of his thoughts, the silence was too loud and it was killing him.

"I fought" he said looking up to meet Sorawit's gaze.

'How can someone be so handsome' Sorawit pondered before breaking eye contact and focusing back on his hand.

"Ah, so you lost?" Sorawit teased, finally becoming more comfortable.

"No, you just haven't seen the other guy" he shot back raising his eyebrow.

It was then for the first time Sorawit saw him smile even if it was a small one, teasing and filled with ridicule Sorawit couldn't tell he was too taken aback to notice. He was alot more handsome when he smiled.

"Why did you fight?" Sorawit continued to question, curiosity filling his eyes.

"Because...." he paused running his other hand through his hair before saying with a light smirk,

"Not telling." "Huh, fine." Sorawit said followed by a short pout.

"Why not." Sorawit ask again quickly trying to force an answer out of him, as to his surprise the other gave in.

"They picked a fight" the boy responded pulling back his hand seeing that he had finished.

"Why?" Sorawit asked, he wasn't sure why he was asking all these question but he couldn't help himself but want to know.

Whilst he was waiting for a response he started to clean up the mess he had made when all of a sudden a bandaged hand came up to his chest and lifted up the name tag hanging from his oversized pink hoodie.

"Sorawit huh, you're quite curious" he said completely ignoring his question.

It was then when he realised that he completely forgot to ask for his name. But feeling a little bit embarrassed Sorawit didn't bother to ask now.

"It's natural to be curious It's not every day someone walks in looking like death" he fired back quickly getting up to return the first aid kit back to It's place.

Ignoring Sorawit once again he pulled out his wallet and placed some money on the table before saying,

"That. My name if you were also curious about that"

And like that before Sorawit could respond That was gone.

'Weird.'

Sorawit thought, That was strange. Viangpa Mork was a pretty small village and he'd like to think that although they've only been there for three months they've practically already met everyone. Yet the boy named That had seemed to appear out of nowhere, he looked about Sorawit age or may be a year older which could explain why he hasn't seen him in school but overall That was a very mysterious character.

Sorawit quickly got over it there was no point dwelling on it he mostly likely never see the boy again. He walked back over to the table to collect the money only to see that the odd and mysterious That had left 620 baht for a 300 baht coffee.

'Did he also hit his head' Sorawit thought it was either that or he was stupid.

*^*

Love at first sight all whilst being completely oblivious we love that for you Sorawit.

Next chapter in the making but I am a procrastinator so it may take a hot minute but as I mentioned before I am very dedicated to That x Sorawit so I will not let you guys down.

P.s this chapter was like a mini intro hopefully they'll get a bit longer but I mean I wouldn't bet on it my procrastinating game is strong. I would also say I proof read but I didn't so mistakes will change when I read over it and notice them but also don't be shy feel free to point them out to me. And no I did not forget Nam the iconic trio will live on.

#manner of death #boys love #that x sorn #that x sorawit #tat x sorawit #tan x bun #thatsorn #tatsorn

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365days365movies · 3 years

Text

April 11, 2021: Tootsie (1982) (Recap)

To be clear, I like Dustin Hoffman.

I can’t exactly claim that I’ve seen him in a lot of his most iconic roles, but I’m planning on fixing that this year for sure! On my to-watch list this year and beyond is Midnight Cowboy, Kramer vs. Kramer, Stranger Than Fiction, and Marathon Man at the very least.

But that’s not to say I haven’t seen him in other iconic roles of his, of course. Fun fact: I actually tried to do this project in 2019, and it...didn’t work. But, one of the films I watched that year was one of Hoffman’s most iconic dramatic films: Rain Man.

Oh, and by the way, that movie is not about an autistic man. Or, rather, it’s not based on a man diagnosed with one of the autism spectrum disorders. Instead, he actually most likely had a genetic disorder called FG syndrome, unrelated to the spectrum disorders. Ironic, since Hoffman’s character was the pop-cultural depiction of autism that people STILL refer to quite often, and quite inaccurately. But, obviously, that’s not Hoffman’s fault, and he was good in the movie, to be fair.

I grew up with him in Hook, as the pirate captain himself (I still do his laugh sometimes, it’s weird, I know). He had an underappreciated starring role in one of my favorite guilty-pleasure films, Outbreak (I fucking love that movie, and I’m not ashamed to admit that). He was in Finding Neverland, but I just forgot about that until I looked up his filmography to write this intro. And, of course...Master Shifu.

So, yeah, I actually DO like Dustin Hoffman, despite the fact that his role in The Graduate wasn’t stellar for me. Just seemed kinda miscast, and a little too awkward to be even slightly sympathetic. Then again, he wasn’t really meant to be, so maybe Hoffman was the perfect choice. Even then, he still acted well in it.

And anyway, I watched that movie for two major reasons. One, it was on my list of films to see, and TWO: it was a lead-up to the ACTUAL Hoffman film I wanted to watch this month: Tootsie. After all, I just watched rom-com Some Like It Hot, and if you’ve looked at me schedule, you know what film is coming next. So, this one fits in my planned schedule. Why? Well...there’s a theme.

Yup. I actually picked these movies for a reason. See, here’s the thing: this is a repeated trope in comedies, and I’ve always wondered whether or not it’s...problematic. But, much to my surprise with Some Like It Hot, they actually used the situation to comment on the female experience. I mean, not necessarily really well, but they tried at the very least. And for a film from 1959, that ain’t bad!

Which isn’t to say that it’s entirely clean, of course, but it was far better than I’d expected. So, if 1959 did that OK, how did 1982 do? Let’s find out, shall we?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Michael Dorsey (Dustin Hoffman) is an acting coach, as well as being an actor himself. However, he’s not the most successful actor, as he keeps attempting to audition for pieces, only to get refused for nebulous reasons, or refuses them when he disagrees with the director. He might want to take his own advice, for the record.

In the meantime, he works in a restaurant with Jeff Slater (Bill Murray), a playwright and roommate. That night, the night of his birthday, he spends time with an actress friend, Sandy Lester (Teri Garr), and also hits on the majority of women there that night.

As the party concludes, and various people go home, Sandy is abandoned by her date, and Michael offers to take her home. She breaks down crying, and Michael guesses that she’s upset about an upcoming audition. He gives her some coaching advice, and manages to get her to produce the correct emotion for the role. Afraid that she’ll lose it without him, he agrees to accompany her to the audition and enrage her. It’s very funny.

That morning, however, she IMMEDIATELY gets kicked out of the audition, as she wasn’t right for the part. However, when he goes to help her by speaking with an actor on the show, he finds out that the actor is off the show, and is instead getting a part that MICHAEL was supposed to get. Now enraged himself, he goes to speak with his agent, George Fields (Sydney Pollack), and the two have a tense conversation. It’s revealed that because of his difficult nature, he has a terrible reputation in acting circles, and literally nobody will hire him.

Challenge accepted.

Now dressed up as a woman named “Dorothy Michaels”, he goes back to the audition that passed on Sandy. Like her, he’s also immediately rejected by the director, Ron Carlisle (Dabney Coleman), who insists that she’s too “gentile” for the part of a hospital administrator. This causes “Dorothy” to go off, in a righteous monologue that accuses Ron for conflating power with masculinity. Which...yeah, he totally is, and DAMN, it’s a good tell-off!

Producer Rita Marshall (Doris Belack) agrees, and invites “Dorothy” to read for the part. He comes in to read, and in the process meets Julie Nichols (Jessica Lange), to whom he’s IMMEDIATELY attracted. He brushes that off, and the audition commences. From there, he gets the part, which is a regular part on a soap opera called Southwest General.

Now fully invested in the dumbest idea anybody’s ever had, “Dorothy” goes to her agent and tells him the ridiculous news, and asks for $1000 to go shopping for more clothing. Back at their apartment, Michael speaks to Jeff about the whole situation. He notes that he’s doing this to get the money for his play in Syracuse, which requires $8000 to produce.

Sandy is to be cast in this play, which is an issue, as they now need to explain where the money came from, as it’s technically from the part that SHE was refused for, which would hurt her feelings. He lies and says that the money’s from a deceased relative. While in her place, and while she’s in the shower, he decides to try on some of her clothes to get ideas for Dorothy. But when she walks in on him, he lies AGAIN and says that he’s sexually attracted to her. And she reciprocates IMMEDIATELY, which leads to an unintended relationship.

On the set, “Dorothy” finds out that he’ll be kissing John Van Horn (George Gaynes), an older actor who’s clearly a bit past his prime, and makes it a point to kiss every actress on the set when they start on the show. Gross. Michael agrees, and when the scene comes, he improvises and has his character (Emily) hit the doctor instead.

While the director (who’s a DICK, by the way) notes the improvisation, he approves of it, while also discouraging any similar actions in the future, and calling her “toots”. “Dorothy” takes it, rather than talks back. John compliments her on the improvisation, and then kisses “Dorothy” anyway, much to Michael’s shock!

We also find out that Julie, who plays a nurse on the show, is dating director Ron. Later on, though, Michael observes him making out with another actress on stage. Shortly after this, Julie invites “Dorothy” to dinner at her place, which is eagerly accepted. At dinner, we find out that Julie has a young daughter and that her relationship with Ron is...not stellar.

They have a discussion about being a woman in the ‘80s, and the complexities inherent in that concept, which is an interesting theme of this movie! Gotta say, this is a more socially-conscious version of Some Like It Hot, and I really like that! But the conversation is cut short when Michael realizes that he’d promised dinner with Sandy that night, and leaves in a hurry.

Dinner with Sandy is awkward, as Sandy is...Sandy is a lot, to be honest. But, she tells Michael that the woman hired in her stead on the soap opera (who is, of course, Michael himself), is written as a wimp, rather than tough as intended, and that she should change that. Michael agrees, and actively goes against the script to make the character of Emily far tougher. and essentially a feminist.

While this causes some grief to Ron and Rita at first, Dorothy Michaels soon becomes a massively successful and popular actress on the show, and her popularity absolutely explodes. Michael’s wrapped up in the success of Dorothy Michaels, and thinks that she might be able to branch outside of the role of the soap opera. Which is difficult, as his agent points out, because of the simple fact that Michael is...well, Michael.

At a party that his agent invites him to, Michael meets Julie AS MICHAEL. He uses a line on her that she’d mentioned before to Dorothy, only to be met with a drink to the face. Which is fair, as the line was about being honest about wanting to have sex with her, so I get it.

On the set soon afterwards, we see that the show is becoming more progressive, allowing Julie’s nurse character to stand up to John’s chief doctor character. After the scene is done, the director once again calls Dorothy “toots” instead of her real name, and Dorothy absolutely snaps back at him, and rightfully so! In response, Julie goes and invites Dorothy to a weekend in the country, on her father’s farm. Despite some rebuke from Jeff for lying to Sandy AND Julie, Michael as “Dorothy” goes on the trip.

This, by the way, is an excellent time to mention that this film is exuding some real strong, uh, vibes. You know...alphabet mafia vibes. Like, it’s definitely there, heavily leaning towards Julie. Obviously, “Dorothy” is actually the heterosexual Michael, but that’s not helping, just saying. And there’s literally (and absolutely obviously) nothing wrong with that, but it’s so strong at this point that it’s hard to ignore.

On the farm, “Dorothy” meets Les Nichols (Charles Durning), Julie’s lonely and genuinely nice father, if a bit old-fashioned in his views on gender politics. He’s also got the hots for “Dorothy”, which is funny-but-awkward as shit. That night, Julie tells “Dorothy” some very personal things about her dreams as a child, which is a genuinely very sweet scene. And can I just say, that this movie is both funny and quite heartfelt? I love it! Also, again, the vibes...THE VIBES.

Meanwhile, the popularity of “Dorothy” continues to skyrocket, to the frustration of director Ron, but to the delight of producer Rita, who decides to extend her contract with the soap opera by a full year! Oh FUCK! Realizing what the hell he’s gotten himself into, Michael calls his agent, who tells him that it was in his contract, meaning he’s basically fucked.

Jeff also tries to help hi, out of it, to no avail. Just then, though, they get a call from Julie, looking for “Dorothy”. She’s been having her doubts about her relationship with Ron, and she realizes that she’s been settling for Ron and other men like him. And Dorothy’s inspired her to be a better person, and to be honest with others and with herself. Fuckin’ OOF.

Just then, Ron arrives, allowing them some alone time, as Julie is getting ready for their night out. In the process, “Dorothy” reveals that she knows about his indiscretions with other women. Ron proceeds to use the EXACT SAME EXCUSE that Michael used to excuse his lies to Sandy, and it’s well-executed! Good job, writers, that’s pretty awesome.

“Dorothy” promises to watch Julie’s daughter for the night, which proves a bit of an issue, but he works it out. Julie returns later on, having broken up with Ron. Another heart-to-heart ensues, but this one is concluded with a revelation that Julie is lonely, despite the fact that she appreciates Dorothy’s influence and friendship. And then, "Dorothy” tries to kiss Julie. OH

Yeah, Julie’s not exactly chuffed about this as, despite a LOT of “Sappho and her friends” vibes, she doesn’t actually swing that way. “Dorothy” tries to explain, but this is interrupted by a call from Julie’s dad! He asks her out on a date that night, and “Dorothy” accepts. On said date, he FUCKIN’ PROPOSES TO HER! She promises to think about it, and takes the fuck OFF.

And to continue the parade of “Fuck me, I guess” that marching down Michael Street, who should show up at the apartment but John, from the show! Having followed her home the previous night (YIKES BUDDY), he literally serenades her outside of the apartment window, before “Dorothy” lets him in. It’s there that he reveals he’s MADLY in lust with her, and it’s HILARIOUSLY awkward. Thankfully, just as John is forcing himself on her, Jeff walks in on them, interrupting John’s actions, and causing him to leave in shame.

AND FUCKING THEN, after all of that, Sandy arrives at the apartment to find out why Michael’s not returned her phone calls. And Sandy’s a lot, sure, but all of her concerns are completely valid and legitimate. And despite Michael’s impressive ability to lie, he tells her the truth: he’s in love with another woman. Which she absolutely freaks the fuck out about, but whatever, not like Michael doesn’t deserve that.

Having had it with all the drama around Dorothy’s life, he goes to his agent and hilariously recounts to him the whole series of events that’s taken place. Still struggling to find a way to get out of the situation, he goes to work the next day, for an awkward conversation with Julie. She thanks Dorothy for inspiring her to be true to herself, which cuts DEEP, but still says that they shouldn’t spend time together anymore.

Producer Rita arrives with news: the erasure of a reel of footage has forced them to shoot a scene live. Said scene involves a party being thrown for Dorothy’s characters, putting her in the starring role. And THAT is when Michael takes his chance. Dorothy improvises a monologue about Emily’s REAL past, as a twin who tragically died before realizing her dream to become a hospital administrator. Ripping off his disguise, Michael reveals himself as Emily’s twin brother, Edward!

Everyone on stage and at home is SHOCKED, especially Les, John, Sandy, and of course, Julie. And once the cameras stop rolling, Julie now understands everything. She walks right up to Michael...AND PUNCHES HIM IN THE DICK

John asks if Jeff knows, and I break in half laughing.

Months pass. Michael was able to fund Jeff’s play in Syracuse, and goes to meet Les, who lives in the area. The two make amends after an understandably awkward reunion, and they begin the journey to become friends after everything. This prompts Michael to return to the city and speak with Julie, who is...less than happy to see him. Which, yeah, entirely fair.

But, again overcoming the initial awkwardness, Julie is able to admit that she misses her friend Dorothy. And Michael reciprocates, speaking for Dorothy, who is...well, him. He says the following great line:

I was a better man with you as a woman than I ever was with a woman as a man.

And from there...the two decide to rekindle a friendship, with Julie asking to borrow one of Michael’s dresses. And y’know...I’m rooting for those crazy kids.

That’s Tootsie! And, uh...I love it! I LOVE it. I actually think this is a great film, and one of the best I’ve seen this month. But I’ll elaborate...in the Review! See you there!

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Adrenaline

Summary: Ashton didn’t know it was possible for someone to breathe new life into the broken parts of him he long believed were dead and buried. He didn’t know you were possible.

A/N: Hitting a wall again with my WIPs, so time to find inspiration elsewhere for other ideas. This beauty courtesy of Tyler Rich’s new album, and specifically the song Adrenaline (hence the title and main storyline) and a smidge of Still Love You.

Word Count: 2.1k

And away, and away we go!

I was faintly aware of the sound of my front door opening and the sound of feet running up the stairs. But much like the call of “Ash,” that accompanied Calum barging into my bedroom, it was all muddled like I was submerged under water. And given constantly feeling like I was drowning, I supposed that made sense in some fucked up poetic way.

More barely registered movement: curtains pushed open, and a frustrated “Jesus, mate…” as sunlight hit my square on my face.

“Fuck!” I hissed, screwing my eyes shut, but still seeing splotches of light behind my eyelids as I rolled over, burying my head in my pillow. “Are you tryin’ to make me blind?!”

“No, I’m tryin’ to figure out where the fuck my friend is. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Oh, piss off!” I grumbled. “It’s been like 3 days, fuckin’ relax…”

“3 days? Try 3 months.”

“Months?” I rolled back over, squinting over at Calum, the sun still far too fucking bright. “Can you put a dimmer on that, or something?”

“A dimmer switch on the sun? Really?” was the scoff before the lamp on my nightstand flicked on and he shut the blinds. “Is that better, Your Highness?”

“Fuck you…” I groaned, hoisting myself to lean against the headboard. “Months?”

“Yeah. We’ve been taking turns checking in on you.”

“And you chose this particular time to piss me off? To what do I owe the occasion?”

“Am I pissing you off, or are you pissing yourself off? Have you seen the state of this place recently? Or the bottom of all these bottles making everything a lil blurry?”

I held up 2 fingers, a dull ache starting to spread across my head. “Things are going… mmm… swimmingly.” I did my best to flash him a smile, but all it did was somehow worsen the pain beating on the inside of my skull. “Mmm good mate… Honestly.”

Calum rolled his eyes, not convinced of my Oscar-worthy performance. “Look, we’ve been trying to let this shit run its course. Waiting for you to bounce back on your own. But, call me impatient. You got 5 seconds to start dragging your rank ass towards that shower before I carry you there myself.”

“Impatient,” I teased, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed. I braced my hands on either side of me before pushing off.

The floor of my room came rushing towards me, before someone caught me. “Fuckin’ hell, Ash!” Calum swore.

Cold water hit my face, making me gasp in shock, recoiling away from the stream. “My clothes…” I mumbled, my hands pulling my tank top away from my chest with a wet suction.

“Are fine,” Calum told me.

“Sss cold,” I shivered, my teeth clacking together.

“Good. It’ll sober you up. Don’t forget to scrub behind your ears!”

The more that water rained down on my face, the more the ringing in my ears subsided. I peeled off my tank top, the soaked fabric slapping against the floor of the tub, followed quickly by my boxers. I nudged them out of the way with my toe before adjusting the water temperature to something a little less bone-chilling.

The grime and filth washed down the drain with my shampoo and soap, my body returning to its normal smell, rather than the dusty brewery it had become.

With a towel wrapped tightly around my waist, I exited the bathroom in search of clean clothes, feeling like my body had come up to the surface but my ears were still fully submerged. The jury was still out on which was more preferable: drowning or floating.

My bed had been stripped, and Calum was throwing empty bottles of liquor in a trash bag. “Jesus... I was gone that long?” I asked, worry starting to churn my stomach into knots.

Calum stilled at my voice, straightening up and turning to look at me, a sad look on his face. “Yeah. What the hell happened, Ash? She cheated, and then lied to you about it. If anyone should be torn up about this, it’s her. If anyone deserves the 3 month long bender, it’s her.”

I let out a huff of air, rifling through the fog for the memory. “We had 2 years before that started happening though,” I defended. “2 good years. And then…” I mimed a bomb going off.

“Boom…” Calum said sullenly.

“Boom,” I agreed, one of my hands going to ruffle through the hair on the back of my head. “Just having a hard time separating the good from the bad, I guess. Didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

“S’alright,” he answered, before waving what appeared to be the last of the bottles in his hand at me. “You got anymore in the house? Full or otherwise?”

I shrugged. “I’ll help you look, and clean up.”

He held up a hand, stopping me as I stepped to leave the room to search the rest of the house. “Get dressed first. I mean, yeah, it’s your house, and I’ve seen your junk plenty of times, but I’d rather not.”

I blushed, gripping the edge of the towel still wrapped around my waist, ducking quickly into my closet. “Thanks, Cal.”

“Anytime, mate.”

“Nah,” I said, stepping into a pair of boxers and then jeans. “I mean…” I grabbed one of my shirts from a hanger, thrusting my arms through the sleeves, fingers fumbling to do up the buttons.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Calum cut me off, not waiting for me to find the right words to address my gratitude. “And I meant what I said back. Now c’mon, help me clean up your mess. Or start dishing out the cash for a maid. God knows you’re loaded.”

~~~

“Shit, my bad,” I apologized as a body jostled into mine.

“Ash?” the person asked in surprise.

My entire body froze. “Hey, Lex…” I said, looking down at my ex-girlfriend.

“Hey… How’re things going?”

“They’re going,” I chuckled dryly, my ears roaring, my head sinking deeper and deeper.

She flashed a smile. “That’s good. It’s… uh, nice running into you. I miss you.”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “Yeah right.”

“I mean it,” Lexie insisted. “C’mon… we were good together, weren’t we? Don’t you miss me back? Even a little?”

“I-” I started but a hand found my shoulder.

“Was just getting ready to leave. Right, Ash?” Calum urged, jerking his head in the direction of the exit.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, we were just leaving…”

“Oh… Well, it was nice to see you again, Ash. Cal…”

“Lex,” Calum nodded curtly at her, his voice hard as stone.

I glanced over my shoulder at Lexie as I followed Calum out. She gave a wiggle of her fingers in a goodbye, before dancing up close with some other guy, his hands roaming her body possessively. I clenched my fists.

“Not worth it,” Calum warned low.

“How can I still feel anything akin to love to a girl I don’t even like?” I wondered aloud as we started walking the streets. “It makes no fuckin’ sense. She lied to me. Letting go should be easy.”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t bother with dating,” Calum told me, lighting a cigarette.

“Maybe you should. People are starting to talk about why you aren’t miserable like the rest of us.”

“Ask me if I give a fuck,” he scoffed.

I laughed with him. “I’m serious, Cal. Pretty sure you could come out tomorrow saying any goddamn thing you want. You’re gay. You have a secret family. Anything. And everyone would be like ‘yeah, that checks out.’ Even me, and the rest of the guys.”

“Gay and I have a secret family,” Calum continued with the joke. “There’s power in being mysterious, Ash. I’m telling ya. It’s great. You should try it sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe…” I leaned down to grab a rock off the sidewalk, chucking it at the side of a building. It ricocheted off before clattering to the ground.

“Oh, we’re throwing rocks now?” Calum asked in amusement.

I shrugged. “I dunno. Felt good, though.” I picked up another pebble, cocking my arm back to toss it, throwing it harder than I meant to when I caught sight of the street signs indicating where we were. It clanged loudly off a dumpster, the roar in my ears growing.

“Jesus, dude,” Calum winced.

I braced my hands on my knees, doubling over and breathing hard, breaking into a cold sweat like I’d just run a marathon. Mentally speaking, I supposed I had.

“Ash? Ashton!” Calum shook me.

“What? Sorry…” I shook my head to clear it.

“You alright?”

“Nope.” I popped the “p” and threw another rock. “I can’t get her out of my head. She’s everywhere. All the time! Even here!” I pointed angrily up at the street signs, wanting to throw my fist into the dumpster but I settled for throwing another rock, the ringing matching the sound that blared in my head.

“I don’t know who the fuck ‘she’ is, but you wanna not take out your feelings for her on my dumpster?” someone demanded.

I whirled to find a woman propped against a service door, hands on her hips, hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a green work apron covering up a black polo tucked into black slacks.

“Sorry,” Calum apologized. “We’ll uh… I’ll take my friend somewhere else.”

“Yeah, you do that.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Maybe try the beach.”

“You offering to come with?” I asked.

Her laugh was both harsh and light. “Go with your friend, drunk boy.”

“Not a boy for 1. Stone cold sober for 2.”

“Funny. I don’t remember asking. Or giving a shit.”

“Geez… who hurt you?” I laughed, beginning to enjoy her fuck-all attitude.

“Could ask you the same thing,” she countered.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, tell that to my dumpster.”

I walked over to pat the green metal container. “Doesn’t matter,” I crooned to it dramatically before flashing her a grin.

The corners of her lips quivered upwards in a reluctant smile, while Calum sighed loudly, grabbing at my arm. “Stop bothering her with your bullshit, mate. She ain’t biting.”

“She’s smiling, so I’m halfway there. If you think I’m funny now, you should see me when I’m not throwing rocks at a dumpster.”

“Well, here…” she reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out a napkin and a Sharpie. She turned to use the door as a flat surface to scrawl her number across the napkin on. “Call me when you’re sober, and we’ll see how funny you are then.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Calum groaned.

She paused, the napkin inches from my fingers, looking over at Calum. “Should I not?”

“What do I look like, his babysitter?”

She laughed. “No. But you are his friend. Or so I assume. He usually like this?”

“Sometimes yeah,” Calum admittedly truthfully. “Good sort though.”

Her smile was dangerous and devastating as she handed me the napkin. “This really your number, or are you just fucking with me?”

“Call it, and find out.”

I pulled out my phone, dialing the number and hitting the call button. A phone started buzzing inside her apron pocket. “I wonder who that could be,” she wondered in faux-innocence, answering it. “Hello?” she asked, sweetly, her greeting reverberating out of the speaker of my phone.

“I’m sober.”

~~~

“That’s rough,” she commented softly as we watched the waves crash and break along the shoreline, the sky starting to pinken along the horizon.

I shrugged, my hand finding hers in the sand. “I’m sure I’ll find the reason why it didn’t work out one of these days. Maybe it’s right under my nose.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, tilting her head up towards the sky and taking a deep inhale. “You ever think we’re meant to meet certain people?”

“Like those people you meet and feel instantly connected to?”

“Yeah. Almost like soulmates. Like across all the different lifetimes there are, and all the different possibilities, you’ll always find each other.”

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Sure would explain why I’ve been sitting here all night with someone I barely know,” she laughed softly.

“Ah, c’mon,” I teased. “You know me. We’ve been talking all night.”

“But do you know me?” she challenged.

“I’d like to.” I swallowed and glanced down at her. “Is it too forward if I kiss you right now, or should I wait until we watch tomorrow’s sunrise?”

“Kiss me, and find out.”

When my lips collided with hers, the only roaring was that of the ocean.

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @boomerash @miirandaaa @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @cashtonisruiningmylife @another-lonely-heart

#adrenaline #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #5sos #galcal irwin

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perseusannabeth · 4 years

Text

blame it on the alcohol

Summary: Elain gets drunk and decides to sleep in Lucien's room. Also, she keeps talking about her boobs.

Elain was drunk. She was very drunk, not even just tipsy, all thanks to Mor who had convinced her to go to Rita’s with the rest of the girls. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, her hair was slightly messy, her eyes were slightly glazed over. It was the drunkest Lucien had ever seen Elain, and it was endearing. Even when Elain was so drunk she could barely stand, she still managed to take Lucien’s breath away. He couldn’t quite believe that she was stood at the entrance of his room, panting like she had run a marathon, grinning from ear to ear.

They had been taking things slow in regards to the mating bond. He spent time in the gardens with Elain, sometimes watching, sometimes helping. They would talk about everything and nothing. They were slowly getting to know each other and were getting more and more comfortable around each other. The physical aspects of their relationship were limited to holding hands, linking arms, Lucien kissing her hands and Elain sometimes kissing Lucien on the cheeks. Although the mating bond tugged and gnawed at Lucien, he found he could easily ignore it, when just thinking of Elain’s face flushed, her beaming with happiness, her eyes shining with fondness and joy, and a happy, content feeling washing over him through the bond. As long as Elain looked and felt like that, Lucien could deal with whatever was thrown at him.

Or so he had foolishly thought, until now. Elain pushed past him and walked into his room, sitting herself down on the foot of his bed clumsily. He closed the door cautiously and turned to look at Elain, who had kicked her shoes off and was sat with her legs crossed on his bed.

“Is everything alright dove?” he asked as he walked towards the shirt he had draped over a chair when he had gotten ready for bed. His sleep-addled brain hadn’t thought to put a shirt on before he answered the incessant knocking at his door.

“Do you usually sleep without a shirt on?” Lucien couldn’t even tell if she was ignoring his question, or whether she didn’t even register that he had spoken.

“Yes, I do, unless it’s very cold.”

“Is it cold now?”

“No.”

“Then don’t put it back on.”

At that, he stilled, his shirt in his hands, hovering mid-air as he was about to put it on. He turned to look at Elain, who was openly staring at his chest. He felt a rush of pride that his mate was staring at him, appreciating his body. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of what to say. Instead, he watched as Elain stretched out her hand, until she was grasping the shirt, and slowly took it out of his hands, her eyes still roaming his torso.

“I want to sleep here tonight,” she said, snapping herself out of the trance she had been in as she finally met his eyes.

“That’s fine. I’ll sleep on the cha-”

“No! You have to stay with me!” she cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

“Elain, dove, you’re very drunk right now. You wouldn’t want this if you were sober,” he said softly, trying to reason with her.

“Actually, I would I’m just too scared to ask for it,” she slurred her words but grinned as she spoke. Lucien decided that grin might be the death of him. “If you make me leave, I’ll cry and then tell Nesta you made me cry.”

Lucien’s eyes widened at such a threat coming from Elain. “Now you’re just playing dirty,” he huffed out with a slight laugh. “No need to resort to that, you can stay,” he held his hands up in surrender.

Elain let out a little giggle as she straightened her legs so they dangled in front of her, her dress still bunched up under her as she swung her legs. Lucien quickly looked away, before moving to try to help Elain to fix her dress. Elain was modest, and he knew she would be mortified at her behaviour right now, and Lucien didn’t want that to happen. Drunk Elain, however, had no problem with showing her legs, and tried to wiggle away from Lucien, laughing as she did, and almost kicking Lucien in the face for his efforts.

“Right then dove, why don’t we get you into bed,” he said, giving up on that idea and gesturing to the blanket which was still folded over from when he had gotten out. It was clearly safer when Elain was under the blanket, for both parties involved.

“Okay!” Elain jumped up onto the floor, turning her back to him, and then, to Lucien’s horror, started undoing the laces on her dress.

Lucien grabbed her hands quickly and turned her around to see her brown doe eyes filled with confusion. “What are you doing?” he asked, wishing his voice didn’t sound like he had swallowed sand.

“I can’t sleep in this,” she said slowly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I especially can’t sleep with my bra on, that would hurt my breasts,” she said, hugging her chest, frowning at the possible pain they might go through. Lucien let out a choked sound but couldn’t speak, which Elain took as a sign to carry on talking about her problems. “They always hurt already, if I slept with my bra on, they would definitely cause trouble.”

Elain shook her head, before continuing to undo her dress. Lucien’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned around, not knowing what else to do. He heard the soft thud of fabric hitting the floor, as well as another smaller fabric, hitting the floor after. Lucien tried to think of something, anything to take his mind off the fact that his mate was stood, almost naked in his room, but it was no use. His face heated, and the heat seemed to run through his veins.

“It must be so easy being a male, you don’t get people staring at your chest,” Elain said with a sigh.

“Who stares at your chest?” He growled, the thought of others ogling at his mate making him feel a simmering rage deep inside.

“Lots of people do. Sometimes I think males forget that females can see that their eyes wander. Still, it was worse when they first started growing. I used to want to rub them because they were so tender and sensitive but then that drew attention to them.” Lucien bit back a groan at the thought of Elain touching her breasts, his mind drifting to her touching herself in other ways before he could stop himself. He cursed silently, as he thought of Tamlin, Eris, Beron, Nesta, anyone to stop his thoughts. His sleeping trousers were already tightening uncomfortably. He quickly adjusted himself, before turning around to see what his mate was doing.

She was covered, thank the cauldron, however, she was wearing the shirt she had insisted he couldn’t wear, and cauldron boil him, the sight of her in his shirt, her cheeks flushed and her hair dishevelled nearly had him on his knees. This was clearly a punishment for all the terrible things he had done, he decided.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he managed to rasp out quickly before she decided to carry on torturing him.

Elain nodded and let him guide her into the space that Lucien had vacated in the bed, and Lucien couldn’t help but watch as those long, smooth legs slid under the covers, which he then pulled up under her chin, hoping it would be enough to stop him from seeing anything he shouldn’t.

As he walked around to the other side of the bed, lying on top of the covers for some semblance of propriety in the situation, Elain decided to continue her torture session.

“I used to wish my breasts weren’t so big. They always cause so much backache, and the men always used to stare. When we were poor it was difficult to buy bras that fit me, because the bigger the breasts the bigger the price for the bra. Then when the bra didn’t fit me they would fall out of the bra, which drew more attention to them, or the bra would dig in and leave bruises and marks. My nipples are always sticking out at the slightest thing too, I think that must mean they're really sensitive.”

Lucien pushed the palm of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them as he wondered what he had done that deserved this much punishment. Perhaps in a previous life, he had human slaves, or maybe he had murdered people in cold blood. Maybe he had drowned baby animals for fun. It had to be something terrible if he had to listen to this.

“Feyre said that males prefer bigger breasts though, is that true?” she asked, turning those big doe eyes on him.

“I, don’t really, I’m not, I don’t know?” he managed to stutter out, his eyes drifting to her chest almost automatically, the blanket had shifted slightly, before berating himself and looking away. Looking at her chest would mean he was no better than the people he just contemplated running his sword through.

“Do you like big breasts? Or my breasts?” Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that this was just a terrible dream, nobody could give him blue balls this cruelly, surely. “Maybe you can’t comment because you haven’t seen them.”

Lucien’s eyes flew open at Elain's comment as she moved the covers, her hands going to the bottom of his shirt to lift it up. At the flash of black lace, Lucien grabbed her hand and pulled it away, pulling the shirt down as far as it could go and pulling the covers up again.

“I can’t comment yet, but I’m sure they’re lovely dove,” he said, slowly releasing her hand. “However, I think you should show me them another time, not right now,” he said, marvelling at his own self-control when he could feel his dick press against his trousers, the mating bond begging him to touch his mate, to please her, begging to break free. He thought of what Nesta would do if she saw what was happening, and imagined the kind of pain his balls would suffer if she could hear the things he was thinking, and the painful need started to slowly ebb away, thank the Mother.

“I can show you another time?” she asked, yawning slightly.

“Any time you’re sober dove.” he leaned in and kissed her forehead. She sigh, and pressed her body up against him, Lucien managing to angle his hips away as Elain rested her head against his chest and breathing in his scent as she started to drift off slowly.

Lucien held his breath until her breathing slowly evened out, and he was sure that she was asleep. He smiled as he looked down on his sleeping mate. She would be embarrassed in the morning, he knew, but he could enjoy the fact she was here, sleeping in his bed for now. He watched her, the smile not falling from his face until he fell asleep, holding his mate.

♥♥♥

Elain woke up to the sun streaming through the window. She groaned, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, hoping it would help the hangover. As she slowly became more awake, she realised her bed smelt differently, like pumpkins and freshly cut grass. Then she noticed how warm she was, and - oh.

She opened her eyes and saw Lucien’s sleeping form next to her. Her eyes widened with panic as she looked around the room, noticing her dress and bra on the floor. She looked under the covers and saw she was wearing Lucien’s shirt! Her panic subsided slightly as she noticed that Lucien had slept above the covers.

“Good morning dove” Lucien’s voice, raspy from sleep made her jump. She looked up to see him smile as he kissed her forehead.

“I - what am I doing here?” she asked him cautiously.

Lucien grinned. “You decided you wanted to sleep here. But of course, you couldn’t sleep with your bra on, so you decided to start stripping.”

Elain’s face went bright red. “You didn’t end up…” she trailed off, unable to finish her question.

“I saw your lovely legs, but nothing more, although you did try.” he laughed.

Elain gasped, as the memories flooded back, hiding her face in her hands and groaning. “I tried to show you my breasts!” she groaned out, horrified at her behaviour.

“Don’t worry dove, I didn’t mind it. You were drunk, and rather adorable, even if you caused a few problems for me. Still, nothing that couldn’t be fixed by thinking of what Nesta would do to me.”

“I can’t believe it. What came over me?” she said, slowly looking up at her laughing mate.

“I can’t say I know dove, but if you ever need anyone to give an opinion on your breasts, I’m always willing to sacrifice my time for that noble cause,” he teased.

Elain couldn’t stand the teasing and wanted him to be quiet. In fact, she wanted to be the one laughing at him, and so, without letting herself overthink, she leaned in and captured his lips, his laughter quickly dying, as he froze at the feeling of her lips on his. Elain started pulling away when Lucien wrapped his arms around her and kissed her slowly.

Elain pulled away, out of breath from the kissing. She felt her face flush as she looked up at her mate, whose face was frozen in shock, his eyes glazed over slightly. She felt a rise of smug satisfaction as she saw him speechless from a kiss. It gave her the confidence to get up and get her discarded clothes and walk into the bathroom to get dressed.

When she emerged, Lucien was sat up on the bed, smiling at her as she came out. She blushed slightly as her eyes roamed his naked torso, remembering how she had been hypnotised by it last night.

“Well, that’ll teach you to be so smug.”

“El, if that was to stop me from being smug then you’d better think of a better deterrent. That was not a way to deter me,” his eyes drifted to her lips.

“No, but just think of what happens when Nesta finds out that I was almost naked in your bed and I kissed you.”

Lucien’s eyes widened as Elain left the room quickly before she did something else to embarrass herself. The thought of Lucien’s horrified face had her laughing all the way to her own rooms. She decided she didn’t care who found out where she had spent the night and would be able to calm Nesta down easily, but Lucien didn’t need to know that.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #acotar #acotar fanfiction #i figured since i now have a book related blog i might as well post this on here too #this is the first thing i've written that i don't hate tbh #i may come to hate it eventually like i do with all my writing #text #my fic

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gaetoeinhaler · 4 years

Text

𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭

satan x female reader fluff

words : 1.3k words

warnings : fluff, 70’s themed au

was listening to hotel California and other songs from the 90’s (most from the 70’s) and got the idea

________________

waiting for the person my friend had set me up with, without my permission or consent of course, i looked amongst the white and pastel blue checkered patterns on the wall. my friend said i needed to get with someone, hook up. feel that energy of love. though, i think its because he's tired of seeing me being the only single person within our friend group.

my friend isn't exactly that type of person that someone would see me get along with. he's more chaotic. childish. he goes by the name of diavolo, though he never specified why. all i know is that he's a mix of cuban, irish, and bit of venezuelan. while another friend of his, who's name is pretty questionable but if you ask, he just smiles and shrugs it off like its nothing. his name is barbatos. he's from the faroe islands.

diavolo said he knew someone who was single as well and needed to get together with someone, sort of like me, but he didn't specify who it was, nor what they were like.

leading to this silly date. a date where the person i was supposed to meet hasnt shown up. sighing, i slumped my cheek against the palm of my hand. my finger tips tapped against the table, the root beer float sitting untouched in the middle of the table, two straws in either side.

ready to get up, pay and leave, with the root beer float of course, a small ding from the bell sounded as a person walked through the door.

he was panting and had a bit of sweat dripping down his cheek, as if he came back from running a marathon. he had blonde hair with emerald colored eyes. his eyes soon met mine, a smile upon his pale features. wiping the sweat away from his forehead and cheeks, he walked his way towards my table until he stopped.

a small blush settled upon his cheeks. "apologies if i mistake you for the wrong person, but are you (y/n)?" he asked. nodding, i watched as he sat down on the opposite side of the booth. "sorry for behind late. i had to stop on the way here."

i nodded and flattened out the wrinkles in my dress, trying to advert my eyes from his. he was attractive, that much was certain. "what exactly did you stop for?" i asked, curious. what was it that made him late?

his eyes stared out the window, his smile still present on his face. "there was a kitten in a alley that was wounded. i gave him to my brother, who works a veterinarian, to help. it was a small calico kitten too."

"will he be alright?" worry evident in my voice. he nodded, his head turning to mine as his eyes pierced within mine. "i believe so. my brother's a cat person so i think the kitten will be taken good care of."

humming lightly, i took the moment to study the emotion held within his eyes. joy. maybe because the kitten was in good hands? and interest. "ah. i apologize, i don't believe ive told you my name. i'm satan."

"like the devil?" my eyebrows raised, a stupid smile spreading across my face. he merely shook his head. "ive been called that, but im nothing like the devil."

"ah, i see." my eyes adverted to the root beer float. "um, have you ever tried one?" i asked, pointing to the sweetened beverage on the table. he shook his head once more. "i don't believe i have. what is it?" he asked, eyes staring at the beverage. surprise and shock was written over my face before it was replaced with a smile. "its a root beer float."

leaning forward, i gently pinched the pink and white striped straw between my finger tips, before taking a small sip. the mixture of vanilla icecream that had melted into the root beer was evident on my tongue. savoring the sweet taste, i hadn't noticed that satan had grabbed ahold of the blue and white straw that was settled on his side of the sweet drink. he hummed softly before pulling away. "it has a unique taste."

"it's consisted of root beer, vanilla ice cream, and whipcream." i informed the blonde. he nodded, going in for another sip.

as i was drinking, enjoying the soda and vanilla flavoring collaged into one flavor, my eyes spotted the juke box at the other side of the restaurant, as well as what seemed like a few couples dancing to a song. interested, i looked to satan to see him enjoying the drink.

"hey, satan." i called out. "give me your hand." his attention moved from the beverage and towards me, confusion amongst his face. he settled his hand in mine, his fairly larger though warmer then mine. gently gasping ahold, as if he was fine china and could easily break, i pulled him up from the booth and towards the other side of the restaurant.

"where are we going?" he asked, his head looking left and right before seeing the jukebox and people.

"to dance, silly!" i chuckled, stopping when we got there. "do you know how to dance?" i asked. he shyly shook his head, adverting his eyes to the ground.

"that's alright! i'll show you! its really simple." i said right before pulling the both of us in with the other couples. moving his hands to wrap around my waist, i moved step by step, his feet following mine. sometimes they stepped onto mine, and a small apology muttered out from his mouth as he does.

he soon got the hang of it, before being able to dance without stepping on my feet. my smile widened, as i stared into his eyes. the same emotions were held within them earlier, except this time it was joy and excitement. as we danced along the floor, passing the other couples, the song started to fade out, before fading in as it started to end. letting go of my waist and instead moving his hand to my own, he lifted my arm and twirled me gently before catching my fall as i leaned more towards him.

a small chuckle passed his lips, imploding into the air. "careful now, wouldnt want to scratch you up now." he spoke.

the song ended, and the couples faded away from the floor. moving away from the floor near the jukebox, i held his hand firmly in mine. walking back to the table, one of the waiters came by to give the bill. paying for it and finishing our root beer float, we headed out.

pushing the door open, he let me out first before following after me. walking down the sidewalk. he halted to a stop, causing me to stop as well. "is there something wrong satan?" i asked, turning my head to him.

he shook his head, his hand leaving mine. "thank you for a wonderful night, (y/n). i had a lot of fun." he offered one of his soft smiles. "i'll have to thank diavolo later to practically forcing this date on me." he stepped forward, his hands reaching down and cupping my cheeks.

despite the heat from the sun, his touch made warmth throughout my whole body. i could feel the blush creeping onto my cheeks as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over mine. leaning in, he planted his mouth against mine in a soft kiss.

his lips were soft, and plush. his kiss soft and gentle, filled with care and joy. he pulled away, his eyes never leaving mine. "i'll be expecting a second date soon, and this time i'll be the one paying." he chuckled before retracting his hands and turning on his heel, walking down the sidewalk.

watching his figure fade into the crowd, a smile crept amongst my cheek, my heart pulsating within my chest as my fingers lingered over my lips, missing his touch already.

i knew then, that i loved him. that i had found my missing half.

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x female reader #satan #satan x reader #satan x female reader #x reader #x female reader #reader insert #female reader insert #fluff #satan fluff #70’s

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ladyreapermc · 4 years

Note

I am so happy for you🥳❤ That is a lot of followers. Maybe “I saw the way you were looking at him…” with Keanu for the prompts? 😊

Thank you, dear! I really hope you like this!

Warnings: smut (fingering and dirty talk)

It wasn’t often that Keanu could visit you on set, but he caught a break in histraining marathon and jumped on a plane to London to meet you. His idea was to make it a surprise since your birthday was coming up.

Besides, in a couple weeks he would have to travel to New York to start shooting the new John Wick and you would be heading to New Orleans for another movie. The two of you would barely have any time to see each other in between.

Keanu sent his suitcase straight to the hotel, while he took a car to the set, letting one of the production assistants guide him through the location where you were shooting an indoor scene with your co-star Richard.

Staying out of sight, so not to be a distraction, Keanu took notice of the mood in the set. It seemed to be an intimate scene between the two characters, your costume for the day consisted of a white dress shirt that barely reached your thighs. You were sitting at a table, knee bent, exposing plenty of your skin as you frowned down a computer.

On cue, your co-start Richard walked into the scene wearing only a towel, all broad shoulders and hard muscles, chest glistening with water. And Keanu suddenly got it why you had such a crush on him. The man was fucking hot.

“Got the files, yet?” he said, thick Scottish accent making his voice gruff, yetmelodious. You turned to look at him over her shoulder with an annoyed glare.

“The algorithm is doing its job, but it’ll take some time,” You stood in one fluidmotion and walked up to him. “Sorry, you can’t just punch your way into the system.”

“I could’ve punched the information out of him,” Richard all but growled, hand coming down to your nape. “Should’ve done it anyway.”

That slight intake of breath that escaped you, Keanu was very familiar with it and it wasn’t an act. He crossed his arms, fingers digging into his biceps, his jeans starting to get a little uncomfortable.

“Don’t be such a Neanderthal.” You rolled your eyes with fond amusement as your hands ran up his chest and locked behind Richard’s neck. “It was all part of the game.”

“Damnit! This isn’t a game!” he snapped, pushing you again the wall. “I can’t lose you,” Richard whispered in character, voice softening, and your character’s defiance shifted into affection.

“You won’t,” you replied, hand burying into his hair and standing on your tiptoes to meet his mouth.

Keanu looked away as the pair kissed for the cameras. He knew it was part of the job, but he couldn’t handle the unexpected arousal as he watched you two. Especially when Richard’s hands fell to your thighs, fingers digging into your skin.

The soft sigh you let out was very real, so was the way your hands tightened on his hair. Keanu had first-hand experience with those.

Richard grabbed one of your legs, bringing up to his hip, before his hands moved up to your ass, lifting you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your lips never leaving his.

You leaned her head back and Richard trailed kisses down your jaw and neck. You giggled, breaking character and the director yelled cut.

“You’re such an asshole!” you complained, but it was affectionate, thumping on his shoulder. “Don’t do that!”

“What? This?” Richard rubbed his stubbled cheek against the sensitive skin of your neck and you jerked back with a squeak. He laughed, holding you steady in his arms so you wouldn’t fall over trying to squirm away from him.

“Guys can you two please focus?” the director asked, voice resigned.

“Sorry,” You winced and glared at Richard. “From the top?”

“No,” the director replied. “from the pick-up.”

Richard let you slid to the back floor and Keanu decided that he had seen enough and for his own sanity, it would be better to wait outside.

He leaned against your trailer, lighting a cigarette as he thought about what he saw. Keanu’s been in this business long enough to know that it happened sometimes, being attracted to your co-star. It could help the movie if the chemistry was good. He also knew he didn’t have to worry about you. You two had a solid relationship and you would never cross that line. You might be attracted to Richard and the he was certainly attracted to you, but you would never cheat on Keanu.

But watching you and Richard together had been… interesting. Yes, Keanu felt that possessiveness in his chest, the one that made him mark you as his whenever you had sex, but he also felt arousal that made him wonder how you would respond to other people’s touch. Would you make the same noises you made for him? Would you be as eager to please?

Keanu could picture now, you on your hands and knees, whimpering as he fucked you, your mouth restricted by Richard’s dick. The thought alone made his cock half-hard and he needed to adjust himself on his jeans. It had been a while since he’d been with a guy, but Richard made him itch for it. He was fucking gorgeous.

As Keanu stumped on his cigarette, he saw you and Richard walking back to your respective trailers, entrailed in conversation, wearing only production robes. He knew the second you noticed him because your eyes grew wide and a flush spread through your face, like a child being caught doing something naughty.

“Ke? What are you doing here?” you asked in confusion while he welcomed you in his arms for a hug and a kiss.

“I wanted to surprise you for your birthday.” He said with a smile, before his gaze shifted to Richard, giving the younger man a little smirk. “Hello.”

“Right, you two haven’t met,” you said, that familiar awkward tone taking hold of your voice as you made quick introductions.

“I’ve always been a big fan of ye work,” Richard said shaking Keanu’s hand.

There was an earnestness in his bright blue eyes as Richard stared at him as if he was fighting the urge to let his gaze wander and Keanu grinned, letting his thumb rub against the back of his hand, soft and testing just to see the younger man gulp and blush.

“I can say the same,” Keanu declared, finally letting go, hands in his pockets. “I loved your show.”

“Game of Thrones?” Richard asked with a little doubtful smile and Keanu smirked.

“Bodyguard,” he replied, ignoring your curious gaze for the time being. “Anyway, nice to meet you. I hope to see you again while I’m around.”

“Of course,” Richard grinned, wide and happy before he waved at you and Keanu and retreated to his trailer while Keanu followed you to yours.

“Ok, what was that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend as the two of you stepping into your trailer.

“What was what?” he asked with a too innocent smile as he pulled you into his arms, lips connecting to your neck. You knew what he was doing, trying to distract you with his wicked tongue, but you weren’t having none of that.

“With Richard,” you clarified, stepping away from his embrace. “I saw the way you were looking at him. Like he was a full course meal.”

“Well, he’s very attractive,” Keanu pointed out with a shrug, crowding you against the wall of the trailer, his hands undoing the ties of your robe, revealing that you were still only in your costume. “Haven’t you noticed?”

You bit your lip, not sure how to reply. You felt like you were stepping into anuncharted territory right now and you couldn’t even focus properly. Not whenKeanu’s lips returned to your neck, mouthing and nipping, making your entirebody arch in response.

“I saw you two,” he whispered, voice low and throaty. “How wet were you when he pressed you against the wall?”

“Keanu…” you warned, flushing in embarrassment and squirming under his hands. He tightened his grip just enough to let you know he would punish you if I fought.

“Did you want him to fuck you right there?” he asked fingers finding your center,teasing you through the fabric of your shorts. Part of you felt wrong to be this turned on, but you couldn’t help it. Your brain was supplying the image Keanu’s words were weaving. “I bet he’s big and you like them big, don’t you, love?”

“Yes, sir,” You whimpered as he snaked his hand inside your shorts.

“I think he’d like to fuck you from behind,” he said, slapping your ass and making you buck against his hand. “Did he feel you up when he was lifting you?”

“No,” You answered, feeling your knees wobbling.

Fortunately, Keanu knew you well enough to bring you to the small couch, making you sit on his lap, back to his chest. Taking only a moment to push your shorts down before he spread your legs over his thighs and dipped two fingers in your cunt.

“Did you want him to?” Keanu asked, biting your neck gently so he wouldn’t leave anmarks. Not while you were shooting a movie.

“Yes,” you confessed, squeezing his thighs. “I wanted him to touch me, slip his fingers into my pussy.”

“Like I’m doing now?” Keanu whispered, picking up his pace and you nodded. “What else?”

“I wanted him to take me,” you said, leaning your head back on his shoulder. His other hand came up your chest, cradling your neck and you sighed. “Hold me down, spread me open and just fuck me until I can’t breath or speak.”

“Keep going,” Keanu ordered, caressing your throat and kissing your temple. “I know you’ve thought about it. You don’t get to come until I hear it.”

“I want to ride him,” you declared, moaning as Keanu fingers moved faster, making you buck on his lap. “Just hold onto his shoulders and fuck myself on his dick.” Keanu squeezed your throat, making your gasp. “I want him to bend me over a table and pound me so hard I see stars, slap my ass and pull on my hair as he does it. Stretch me open and come all over my thighs, leave me a fucking mess.”

Keanu hummed in agreement, fingers moving harder and faster, his knuckles slapping against your skin wetly. It was almost pornographic the sounds you were making.

“I wanna watch him come over your face,” he whispered, kissing you cheek. “After he makes you gag with his cock. I want to taste him on your lips.” He said and that was it. You came with a startled cry, vision blacking out for a moment.

Keanu held you through it, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you came down, breathing ragged, chest thundering.

“You mean that?” you asked, twisting your body so you could look at him and Keanu smiled.

“And if I do? Would you want it?”

“It would definitely be one hell of a birthday,” you grinned at him and Keanu smirked, kissing you.

“Anything for you.”

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #smut drabble #Anonymous

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noladyme · 4 years

Text

Skip To My Lou, My Darling - Chapter 1, Nightmares I

A young woman with deadly nightmares comes across two brothers, who have a mission. The mission of saving people, and hunting things – maybe even the woman herself.

Our story starts towards the end of season 3.

This is the first part of this series. Let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list.

Nightmares I

I’ve usually always slept really well during thunder storms. It was like a lullaby to me. This night, though, was different. In fact – the last week, I’d been struggling to get a good night’s rest at all. It wasn’t that I couldn’t fall asleep – I’d been dozing off within minutes every night – but my dreams had been terrible, and I’d wake in shudders; sometimes with tears streaming from my eyes.

First, darkness – a darkness so intense, I was sure no light could break it. Then I’d hear screaming; pleading. I’d try to move towards the voice – always a new voice, in every dream. “Please… don’t. No! It hurts. I can’t breathe… stop…” I’d finally see a small light, and move towards it; reaching in the dark. I’d get closer to the light, finally seeing the person screaming. Putting my face against the light; I would be looking down at them – and see their terrified faces, as they gasped for breath. Something was holding them down; strangling them. I would look down, and see that it was me. I’m sitting astride my victim. My hands – my long fingers and claws – are around their neck. My black hair is falling down over their body, like tentacles squirming around their limbs – squeezing. They’re gasping – struggling to get me to get off them. Their hand reaches for my face, and scratches my neck. I’m too strong. Give me your last breath.

I sat up, screaming. A blast of thunder jolted me even further, and I sprang out of bed, running out of my bedroom. I spent the rest of the night shaking on my couch.

---

In the morning, I went into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes where gaunt – I looked like hell. On my neck where three red scratches. I must have hurt myself in my sleep, I thought.

It was a Thuesday, and I had work. 1’st grade wouldn’t teach itself, after all – so I got dressed. Blue jeans, and a sweatshirt. At least I could look comfortable, even if my body felt like I’d been running a marathon. I put on some makeup; trying to cover the scratches and dark circles under my eyes; but decided to forego any serious work on my hair – letting it hang loose, and slipping a scrunchie over my wrist; just in case.

I got in my old Ford, and drove to work; tuning in to the news on the radio. “… another strange killing last night. Harry Parker came home from a company retreat, to find his wife – Gloria – dead in their bed. Preliminaries show that Mrs. Parker was strangled in her sleep…”. That’s one every night for a week, I thought to myself, and shuddered.

Work was excruciating. I was unsure whether it was the kids who were unruly; or myself who just didn’t have the energy to be the usual bubbly miss Moore. I was packing up my things at the end of the day, when the principal of my school came into my classroom. “Lulu?”, she said. “Hey, Marion”, I smiled. My boss was in her usual getup. A powersuit, glasses; and her dark hair in a bun on top of her head. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you… You’ve seemed a bit preoccupied this last week”, she muttered. I shrugged. “Just haven’t gotten much sleep”, I said. “I think it’s moving into my new place. Old ghosts”, I grinned. She narrowed her eyes at me. “At least you got out of that motel-room”, she said. “Yes! Thanks for hooking me up with that place”, I smiled. “I really appreciate it”. She smiled brightly back at me. “I just knew a guy who knew a guy, who owned the building”. “Either way, thank you”, I said. “A full month of living next door to random strangers travelling through, isn’t much of a home”. She nodded.

She stepped forward, and put a hand on my shoulder. Her grasp was cold; and sent a shiver down my spine. “Are you ok?”, she asked earnestly. “Yes! I’m great. Really”, I smiled. “You know, you can talk to me… Your colleagues speak highly of you, and the kids love you”, she said. “I’d just hate it if you burnt out”. “I won’t, I promise”, I said. “I’ll look in to some… herbal medicine”. She frowned. “Valerian! Not… I don’t do that kind of stuff. Drugs, I mean”. She nodded. “Good. Well… let me know if I can help”. She left the room – leaving me behind blushing in embarrassment.

I decided to go to the library. It had always been my sanctuary as a kid; whenever I felt in need of some kind of comfort. The large building was mostly abandoned, except for a few teenagers making out between some shelves. The sight made me smile. Been there, done that, kids, I thought.

I sauntered down a row of shelves, looking for anything to take my mind off things. I yawned – fatigue setting in; and decided to go over to the coffee machine by the librarian’s desk. Grabbing my extra strong, black caffeine kick, I stepped over to the librarian. “Excuse me?”, I whispered. “Yes?”. The elderly woman looked like she’d rather I was far away from her, and leave her to her organizing volumes of Shakespeare’s sonnets. “I was wondering if you could help me look up some books on nightmares? Maybe… night terrors?” “Huh… you’re the second person to ask that today”, she muttered. “Row 13. Upstairs”. “Thank you”, I muttered. “Hmm”, she answered, and looked down at her papers again.

I took the stairs, and found row 13. Banishing Night Terrors and Nightmares: A Breakthrough Program to Heal the Traumas That Shatter Peaceful Sleep. It sounded promising, and the writer apparently had a PhD. I sat down at one of the large tables in the middle of the room, and opened the book to read the foreword. I sipped at my coffee. It was scorching, and tasted like stale sadness.

“Coffee here not up to scale?”, a dark warm voice said. I looked up. In front of me stood a smiling man – dark blonde, freckles, with bright green eyes – wearing a suit. He was attractive, but I was much too tired to flirt. “I’ve had better”, I muttered. “I bet”, he smirked, and sat down. “I think you have my book”. I raised a brow at him. “It’s the library’s book. And finders keepers”, I half smiled.

He chuckled. “I’m agent John Osbourne from the FBI”, he smirked, and flashed a badge. “Hmm… did you get here on the Crazy Train?”, I asked. He raised his brows. “Classic rock fan?”, he said. “Yeah, my folks where…”. I sighed. “Sorry; I don’t care. I’d really like to get back to my book”. “It’s the library’s book”, he smiled. “So, you like reading?”. I shook my head. “What?”. “Books… you like reading books”, he said. “Me too. I read… so many things”. “Like?”, I asked, disinterestedly. He cleared his throat. “Like… I read this one book…”, he chuckled nervously. “There was this… thing. You wouldn’t know it”. “Sure”, I muttered, and flipped a page in my book. “And coffee… You like coffee. I like coffee too…”.

An impossibly tall man came over to us. “Hey, I think I got what we need – except for one book”, he said to “John”. Blonde guy smiled. “This is my partner, Dave Walker”. I shook my head. “No…”, I said. “No?”, blonde guy said.

I closed the book. Tall guy looked down at it, and met my eyes for a second. “Could I trouble you for…”, he began. “No”, I said. “She says that a lot, apparently”, blonde guy said. “Look, we’re just…”.

I grabbed the book, and stood up. “No. You can’t have the book; I’m checking it out”, I said; and looked into the green eyes of blondie. “And, no; you can’t have my number”. He looked dumbstruck. “I wasn’t going to…”. “Yes, you were”, I said. “At least you were heading in that direction. So, have a nice day. Bye”.

I walked down the stairs, leaving the two men behind; feeling strangely awesome about my quick wit – in spite of how exhausted I was. Checking out the book, I then got in my car; and rolled down the window, to let the air keep me awake on my drive home.

A hand grabbed the window frame. Blonde guy was leaning against my car. “Nice car”, he said. “No it’s not”, I said. “It’s a piece of crap, but it gets me around. Now please go away”. He looked at me earnestly. “You forgot your coffee”, he said; handing me the paper cup. He’d added a lid for me. “Thanks”, I muttered, and took it from him – our fingers touching for a second; making me swallow hard from my sudden dry mouth.

I scratched my neck for a second. “Those are some pretty nasty cuts you got there”, the man said. “Your neck”. He narrowed his eyes. I covered the scratches with my hand. “Scratched myself in my sleep”, I muttered.

He sighed. “Look… I really need that book”, he said. “So do I”, I said. “And I already checked it out”. He widened his lips in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I came of a bit strong. I get that… I’d just really like to have a look at it. Please?”.

I tilted my head, and looked over his handsome features. At another time, perhaps, I’d have fallen for his charms. “First you admit, that you were going to ask for my number”, I said. He clenched his jaw. “Yes”, he nodded. “I was… Can I have the book now?”. “No”, I said; started my car; and drove out of the parking space.

“Oh, come on!”, I heard him yell after me. I smiled at him in the mirror.

---

Darkness again. A new voice. The light. “Get off me! Stop! I’m calling the… argh!”. The man underneath me is struggling against me. They all do. They never win. He grabs my arm, and squeezes it hard. There is no pain. Never pain. She will have the pain. Now give me your last breath…

I woke up sobbing and sweating. It was 3 am. Much to early to get ready for work; but I couldn’t stay in bed a minute longer. I went into the shower to rinse of the darkness and pain. Looking down at my arm, I noticed what looked like bruises from fingers. They were painful.

What the hell is happening to me?, I thought. I leant against the wall of the shower, and sank to the floor – letting sleep take over me again. This one is old. Not much breath left. “I… can’t breathe… no…”. Let it go. It’s mine. My nails dig in to the wrinkly skin on her throat. She’s going now… Give it. Mine…

I woke with a gasp. I knew the face of the woman in the dream. It was the librarian. The water had turned freezing; and I was shivering in fear and from being cold. I turned of the shower, and wrapped myself in my robe. Once in my small combined living room and kitchen, I brewed myself a large pot of coffee – there was no way I was going to let myself fall asleep again. It was too terrible.

In the morning I slipped on some black gym leggings. I’d never actually used them for working out, but they where comfortable. I grabbed my most comfortable bra, and softest t-shirt and zip up hoodie.

I drove towards the school; passing the library on the way there. Police cars and an ambulance was parked outside it. A shudder went through my body. I had to stop at a red light, and looked towards some police officers who where deep in discussion with two men wearing suits. One of them turned around, and I met the eyes of the FBI-agent who’d tried to steal my book the night before. A smile ghosted his face, and I felt my cheeks flush. His partner caught his attention; and he licked his lips for a nanosecond – sending very impure thoughts through my head.

The morning was normal – as normal as it could get, considering I was downing a cup of coffee every hour. I spent lunch in silence, picking at my food; when one of my coworkers – Nathan – came to sit by me. “Crazy about that librarian, huh?”. “What?”, I muttered. “You didn’t hear?”, he asked. “Old Mrs. Baskin down at the library. She fell asleep at her desk last night, and didn’t wake up. Someone strangled her in her sleep”. “She’s… dead?”, I croaked. “That usually happens when someone tries to kill you... It was weird. She was wet all over, but there was no water around”, he chuckled. “You’re looking tired, Lulu. You sure you’re up for work today?”. “I… dunno”, I whispered. “Just gotta get through the day”. I got up, and went over to the coffee machine, grabbing myself a large mug of please-let-me-stay-awake.

Going through the line of presidents with the kids; there was a knock at the door. Marion stepped in. “Lulu… Miss Moore”, she said. “Can I talk to you in the hallway?”. I looked at the room of starring kids. “Guys, I’ll be back in a second”, I muttered, and followed my boss into the hallway.

“What’s up?”, I said; trying for a smile. “Nathan told me about your conversation earlier. Said you seemed out of it”, she said. I shook my head. “Really, I’m fine”, I said. “Look, Marion…I really appreciate all your help this last month. And I swear I will make it up to you by being the best teacher I can. I honestly just need to settle in to my new place”. She smiled gently. “All right, Lulu. I trust you”, she said. “I’ll talk to Nathan. Tell him to be less nosey”. She winked at me. I shook my head. “Oh, no. You really don’t have to!”, I said. “It’s fine”, she said; and walked away.

Arriving in my apartment that afternoon, I brewed myself a large mug of chamomile. I had some crushed valerian root, and sprinkled a little in to the hot beverage – sipping carefully at the steaming drink. I went to bed early, and for the first few hours, it seemed I got some well needed comfortable sleep.

Green eyes are looking at me. He has a large grin plastered over his face, as he winks at me. He leans in, and seems to smell my hair; and I look up at him. “Let’s take that Crazy Train ride, huh?”, he smirks. I nod fiercely, as he drags me along towards a large soft bed; and we fall onto it, in each other’s arms. As his face comes close to mine; I part my lips – preparing for his kiss…

It’s so cold. I can’t open my eyes again. When I finally pry them open, it’s all – Darkness…

Good. I have her back. We can go now. The light. I see it. And I am straddling him. The one who is causing trouble. “What?... No!”. Shh, now. Time to go, troublemaker. Let me have it. My hands grasp his throat, and I squeeze. He strikes at me; hitting my side. She will feel that in the morning. “Get off me, you… ahh!”. Stop struggling. I squeeze harder. He is stronger than the old woman; but I had two last night. I am stronger. My hair entangles him – holds down his arms, so he cannot strike again. That’s it… let it go. His eyes roll back, and… there… It’s mine.

“Nathan!”, I yelped, as I sat up straight in my bed. This was even more terrifying than the librarian. I’d just seen myself strangle my coworker to death.

It was still very early, but I wouldn’t catch another minute’s rest; so, I decided to just get up, and get ready. No more of this crap, I thought. Best foot forward, Lulu. Shower, breakfast, coffee. I did just that; but as I pulled my black nightgown over my head, I winced from a pain in my ribs. Looking down, there was a beginning bruise on my ribs. I shook my head, and got under the shower – staying standing this time, so I wouldn’t doze off again.

I downed two mugs of steaming caffeine, and got dressed in my favorite jeans – comfortable, but just tight enough to show off my butt. A black tank, fluffy cardigan; and a bandana in my hair – in the best Rosie the Riveter style. I flexed my bicep in the mirror; and smiled at myself. Today was a red lipstick day for sure; and I applied my makeup – forcing myself to think happy thoughts.

---

I parked in my usual spot, next to where Nathan would usually park. His car wasn’t there, and I frowned slightly. Entering the school, I noticed a few of my coworkers whispering to each other, outside Marion’s office. “Good morning”, I smiled brightly at them. One of them looked down, while the other sighed heavily. “Have you seen Nathan?”, she said quietly. “He hasn’t called in sick, but he never showed up…”. “That’s… weird”, I croaked. Oh, no…, I thought. “I should get to class”.

At lunch, Nathan still hadn’t shown up. My desperate attempt of staying cheery, was getting very hard at this point.

I was listening to the kids go over their abc’s in the afternoon. My eyelids felt heavy. Suddenly – darkness… “No!”, I shouted. The kids all looked at me in surprise. “I’m… sorry”. I sped over to the cd-player in the corner. “All right, you little rock’n’rollers! Miss Moore needs a pick me up. Let’s get our dance on!”. The kids all whooped and grinned; as I put on Ramones’ version of the Spiderman theme. I always got a kick out of seeing the kids dancing around the floor, and jumping from tabletop to tabletop.

I got on to my own desk; and led the kids in a serious macarena to the beat. “Miss Moore?”, someone said. I was enraptured by shooting imaginary spiderwebs at the kids. “Miss Moore!”. I looked towards the door; and there stood Marion, and – holy crap – the two FBI agents. The green-eyed blonde was grinning from ear to ear, and bopping his head to the music. I instantly flushed red; and quickly got off my desk. “No, no!”, he chuckled. “Keep going!”.

I cleared my throat and looked at Marion. “Miss Moore. The…”. F B I she mouthed so the kids wouldn’t understand. “… are here. Could I trouble you for a moment?”. “Sorry, guys”, I smiled to the kids. “Why don’t you all draw a picture while I’m gone…”. I stepped into the hallway; avoiding eye contact with the two strangers. Marion sighed. “Lulu Moore; this is agents…”, she began. “We’ve met. She stole our book”, blondie smirked. The tall agent cleared his throat, and looked at his partner meaningfully. Marion frowned. “All right, well… Lulu… I don’t know how to tell you this”. She looked saddened; and grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket.

The tall agent furrowed his brows. “Miss Moore; your coworker – Nathan Palmer – was found dead a few hours ago, in his bed”. My jaw dropped. “Nathan is dead?”, I breathed. “How?”. “Strangulation”, the blonde agent said.

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. A dark look ghosted the blondes face. “We wanted to know if you knew of any enemies he might have had”, the dark-haired man said. “Your boss says you two were close”. I shook my head. “Not… close. We’d usually eat lunch together…”. Marion frowned. “Nathan had a tendency to be a bit… nosy. He’d spend a lot of time asking Miss Moore questions, and getting into her business. Wouldn’t you agree, Lulu?”. I grimaced. “No… I mean, sometimes…”, I rasped.

The tall agent sighed. “Look if there’s anything you could tell us. Anything at all…”. I shook my head. “I really don’t know…”, I muttered. The blonde smirked again. “Well, if you think of anything, give us a call”, he said. “Or even better, I’ll call you. What’s your number?”. I frowned at him: “Nice try, Ozzy”, I sneered. “Lulu, these are FBI-agents!”, Marion gasped. “Sorry”, I muttered sarcastically.

The tall man closed his notebook. “All right. If we have any more questions, we’ll call the office”, he said. Marion nodded. “Absolutely, agent. And go get Miss Moore’s telephone number from my secretary. She’s just down the hall”. The blonde man grinned; and I rolled my eyes. Thanks, Marion, I frowned internally.

The two men walked towards the secretary’s office, leaving me and Marion behind. The principal looked at me meaningfully. “I think you should go home. Get some rest”. I shook my head fervently. “No, Marion. I have to get back to class…”. “Go home. Come back Monday. I’ll get a sub for tomorrow”. She touched my arm. “You’re sleeping standing up. I get it… new job; new apartment… And to top it off, we get news of Nathan…”. She sniveled for a second. “But I need you at your best here”. “I’m sorry”, I muttered. She smiled. “It’s ok”, she said “Go. I’ll take over your class”. I went back inside my classroom, and gathered my things; muttering a goodbye at Marion and the kids.

---

I didn’t want to go home; but I also didn’t have anywhere else to go. Stopping by a grocery store, I grabbed every caffeinated drink I could find; and a bunch of easy microwave meals for the weekend. I needed to keep my strength up, stay awake. I didn’t know what was wrong with me; just that whenever I let myself fall asleep; someone would die.

It’s not your fault. That’s crazy, I kept telling myself – but deep down, I couldn’t avoid feeling like I had something to do with the deaths this last week. I drove home; blinking fiercely to keep my eyes from going blurry. I managed to drive somewhat straight down the road, but missed my turn, and had to go around the block to get back to my building.

I parked by a beautiful classic chevy. I’d always liked classic cars, even if I didn’t know anything about them. Grabbing my bag, I went upstairs to my apartment, and let myself in. The door to my bedroom was open; and I closed it. I am not going to bed, I thought. I opened the window to let in fresh cold air; and turned on my go to album at the moment; Fleetwood Mac’s self-titled album from 75. Monday Morning Blasted through the speakers; and I smiled at the cheery tune. I opened my book.

“Sleep terrors are classified as a parasomnia — an undesirable behavior or experience during sleep. Sleep terrors are a disorder of arousal, meaning they occur during N3 sleep, the deepest stage of non-rapid eye movement (NREM) sleep. Another NREM disorder is sleepwalking, which can occur together with sleep terrors.”

Lindsey Buckingham’s voice leading me through the song had me bopping my head; but the shuffle setting I’d set the album on, led to Stevie Nick’s more somber voice; singing Landslide. I loved that song. It was so calming; and made relax.

Darkness… She’s asleep again…

A knock at the door jostled me before the dream turned for the worse. I was relieved; and told myself to kiss whoever had woken me up.

I opened the door. Outside stood blonde guy, and tall guy. “Hi”, blondie smiled. “No…”, I said. “You keep saying that”, he grinned. “Can we come in?”. I shook my head. “No!”, I said.

He pushed pass me, and stepped in to my apartment. Both men where wearing jeans and flannel shirts, instead of the suits I’d seen them in before. “Dean…”, tall guy said. “What happened to John?”, I snarled, as tall guy passed me. Blonde guy looked at me angrily. “What are you doing here? And please leave!”. “Just here to finish a job”, blond guy said, and pulled out a large knife.

My heart in my throat, I grabbed my phone. “I’m calling the cops…”, I croaked. Tall guy took my phone out of my hand; and I sprang for the open door. Blondie jumped in front of me, and closed it in front of me. I began backing away from him. “Please… just take whatever it is you came for, and leave. I won’t tell anyone…”, I breathed. Blond guy stepped towards me.

“Dean!”, tall guy said. “We don’t know for sure…”. “It all leads back to her!”, blonde guy said. Tall guy put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Please, miss Moore… sit down. We just want to talk to you”. He coaxed me towards the recliner by the open window, and I wondered for a second if I could make the jump. “You’ll break you neck”, blondie said coldly; almost as if he’d heard my thoughts. “Dude! You’re scaring her!”, tall guy said. “Good”, blonde guy said.

Tall guy sighed, and sat down on my couch. “I’m Sam Winchester. This is my brother; Dean”, he said. “We’re here because we think you might – somehow – be involved in the killings hitting this town lately”. “I have nothing to do with that”, I rasped. “Are you cops?”.

Dean chuckled. “Far from it”, he muttered. “Stevie Nicks… heard she was a witch. Friend of yours?”. I looked at him exasperatedly. “What are you talking about? And could you put that knife away?”. Sam looked at his brother; who rolled his eyes, and slipped the knife into its holster again. “Miss Moore, you were one of the last people to see the librarian alive”. “Mrs. Baskin”, I muttered. He nodded. “Then there was your coworker, Nathan – on top of numerous other cases of strangulations when people where sleeping”. “I heard”, I said. “But like I said, I have nothing to…”. “Yes… that may be true”, Sam said. “But we need to be sure”, Dean grunted; looking at me warily.

I was beginning to get mad. “Look, you come in here like you own the place; threaten me with a knife; and accuse me of killing people”, I growled. “Who the hell are you?”. Sam sighed, and looked out the corner of his eye at his brother. I was beginning to see the family resemblance – though they seemed very different from each other. “We’re hunters”, he said. “Yesterday, you were FBI… Look, I don’t have any deer here, so you can go”.

He frowned at me, looking like a sad puppy. “You look really tired. When did you last sleep?”, he asked. I shrugged. “I sleep… all the time. Just haven’t…”. I sighed. Dean went to sit by his brother. “Bad dreams?”, he muttered. I nodded. “Hence, the book”, he said, looking down at the volume still laying open on my coffee table. “They’re… horrible”. I swallowed. “Have you experienced anything strange lately? Maybe in your apartment? Cold spots?”, Sam asked. Dean pulled out an electronic device from his pocket, and stood up – seemingly scanning the room. I chuckled. “Seriously? What are you? Ghostfacers?”. Dean looked offended. “Excuse me?”, he sneered. Sam waved him off. “Really… has anything changed in your life lately?”.

I shrugged. “I don’t know you. Why should I just let you know everything about me?”. “Because… we genuinely want to help”, Sam said. “Whatever is happening, it comes back to you”. “How?”. “Those scratches on your neck…”, Dean said. “They found skin samples under the nails of Gloria Parker”. “That doesn’t prove anything…”, I muttered.

“When did you fall asleep Tuesday night?”, Sam asked. “I don’t know. Around… midnight. Woke up at 3”, I said. “Don Winslow”, Dean muttered. “You fall asleep again?”. “In the shower”, I whispered. A smile ghosted Deans face. “The librarian. She was wet when they found her”, Sam said. “There were two deaths that night. Then last night, your coworker, Nathan”. “And a close call earlier today”, Deans said. “A homeless man sleeping on a park bench was brought back to life; with strangulation marks on his throat – around 1 pm”. I shuddered. “I dozed of for a few minutes by my desk”, I said.

The men looked at each other. “We’re gonna need you to stay awake tonight”, Sam said. “We need to test a theory”. “What?”, I said coldly. “That I’m sleepwalking, and killing people in my sleep?”. The both looked down. “Seriously?”, I cried out. Dean shrugged. “Better brew some coffee, sweetheart. It’s gonna be a long night”.

---

I was stuck in my apartment with two strangers; without access to my phone, which Sam kept in his pocket – while his brother was hovering over me. I drank about a pint of coffee, and was beginning to get hungry. “I need food”, I said quietly. “If you’re gonna hold me hostage, at least feed me”. Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I could go for a burger”, he said. “What you got?”. “I’m not cooking”, I snarled. “It’s ok!”, Sam smiled, trying to ease the tension. “We’ll go get something”. “You’re leaving?”, I asked, trying not to sound relieved. “No”; Dean said. “Sam will go. I’ll stay here”. “Awesome”, I muttered. Deans eyes had a tint of amusement.

“Sammy… Burgers. Fries. You know the rest”. Sam stood up. “Fine… Lulu?”, he asked. “Cheeseburger and fries. No tomatoes. Jalapeño poppers with ranch; and chicken tenders”. Deans jaw dropped. “You are hungry!”, he smiled. “Not that hungry. But I’m pissed; and you’re paying”, I muttered. Sam went towards the door. “Oh; and pie”.

Sam sent Dean a look. The green-eyed man was grinning from ear to ear. “Double the pie”, he said. Sam left the apartment, and closed the door behind him.

I yawned. “Don’t fall asleep”, Dean said. “Have some more coffee”. “I’m already tweaking on that stuff”, I said. He raised a brow at me – his green eyes giving away his intentions. “There are other ways we could keep you awake”, he smirked. I frowned at him. “You held a knife to me just an hour ago. No thanks”. He looked down. “Yeah, sorry about that”. He stood up, and began walking around the room. “Music?”.

I gestured towards my rack of cd’s. Usually I’d use my phone for music, but it was grabbing food with Sam. Dean looked down the rack. “Boyband fan, huh?”, he said. “I went to high school”, I muttered. “Never get rid of cd’s. I used to hide my favorite albums whenever friends came over”. “What albums?”, he asked. “Top drawer in the dresser with the stereo”.

Dean opened the drawer. “Mötley Crüe! Oh yeah… Cheap Trick…”. “Got some LP’s on the bookshelf”. He spun around and looked at me. “You have LP’s?”. I shrugged. “Yeah?”.

He sped over to my bookcase. “Sex Pistols. Queen. Rolling Stones… Lady, you’re sitting on a goldmine in music!”. “I know”, I said. “Listen to anything else?”. “Sure. Whatever catches my ear. But I like classic rock. Saw AC/DC live a few years back”. Deans jaw dropped again. “Seriously?”, he gasped. “Really? What was it like?”. He was like a kid on Christmas eve. “It was… so awesome”, I admitted with a grin. “I flashed Angus while he played the riff to It’s a Long Way to the Top…”. He shook his head. “If you weren’t a witch, I’d ask you to marry me”.

I flinched, and looked at him angrily. “I’m not a witch”, I said. “And no thanks. I like my men a little less… knifey”. He chuckled. “Fair enough… nothing wrong with living in sin”. I couldn’t help but smile.

He went back to the drawer, and pulled out High Voltage – putting it on. He skipped straight to Can I Sit Next to You Girl. “No”, I said. “You can’t. You stay over there”. He shrugged, and went over to my fridge. “You got beer. You mind?”. “Go ahead. Give me one”, I said. “Nope”, he said; opening a cold one for himself. “Alcohol makes you drowsy”.

I sighed. “I’m gonna go take a shower”. I stood up, and walked towards the bathroom door. Dean followed. “What do you think you’re doing?”. “Need to… make sure you don’t fall asleep. Or run away”. I looked at him, and smiled – taking a backwards step into the bathroom. Dean smirked at me, and lifted a brow. I slammed the door in his face. “Fine!”, he called from the other side of the door. “Make it a cold shower; keep you awake. And talk to me”. I quickly undressed. “What do you want me to say?”, I called out. “That you’re creepy for talking to a woman while she showers?”. I heard him chuckle. “What class are you teaching?”. “I thought you already knew everything about me”, I said; turning on the shower. “And you saw the kids. They look like teenagers to you?”. “I was more focused on the chick dancing on her desk”, he chuckled. “Come on…”. I sighed, and stepped under the cold water. “I’m a first-grade teacher”, I said. “Cool. Abc’s and stuff?”. “And stuff”, I replied. “You like it?”, he asked. I imagined him leaning against the door. “Yeah. It’s ok. New job”, I said. “Since when?”. “About a month ago”.

The cold water made me shiver – or it might be the fact that a pretty damn good-looking man was standing just on the other side of the door, as I was buck naked. “Lived here long? You still got some boxes around”, he said. “A little over a week”, I said; scrubbing my scalp with shampoo. “Huh”, he said. “Anything weird going on here?”. “Other than the occasional strangers showing up and shifting between threatening me, and flirting with me?”. “I wasn’t… ok I was”, he chuckled. “But seriously”. “Your brother already asked me that. No. Nothing”.

Rinsing out the shampoo, I then stepped out of the shower. “Crap”, I said. “What? What’s wrong?”. Dean sounded worried. “I forgot a towel… and clothes…”, I muttered. “Do you want me to come in there?”. “No!”, I cried out. “Just… get my robe. It’s in the bedroom. Don’t go through my underwear!”.

A moment later, there was a knock on the door. “I got it”. I opened the door slightly, and stuck out my hand, to grab the robe from him. “Dude!”, I said; looking at the item now in my hand. “This is a towel the size of a stamp. Get my robe”. “Didn’t know where it was…”, he said. I could hear his smile on his voice. “You’re… just, turn around! Close your eyes…”. He didn’t answer. “Are they closed?”, I asked. “Yes…”, he said. “Really?”. A pause. “Ok, now they’re closed, I swear”.

I peeked out. Dean was covering his eyes, and had his back to the bathroom door. I quickly slipped behind him, and into the bedroom. Quickly, I put on clean underwear, and a pair of leggings. After putting on a bra, I slipped my Ramones t-shirt over my head. “You’re kind of sleazy, you know that?”, I called out. “Not the first time I’ve heard that”, he said. “I’m sorry. Really”.

I looked at my bed. It was so inviting, and I stifled a yawn. “Lulu?”, Dean called out. “You ok?”. I sat down on the bed, feeling my comforter under my hands. It was so soft. I could just lay back for a second, I thought. I leaned back, and closed my eyes.

Someone was rustling my shoulders. “Hey! Lulu. No, you don’t. Get up”. Dean put his arm behind my back, and made me sit up. “Come on, sweetheart. Time for more coffee”. He pulled me up to stand; and held me flush against him; patting my cheek gently. “You’re cute”, I smiled – before blinking fiercely, and shaking my head. “Wait… No. What?”. Dean grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself, Lou”, he said, and led me into the living room. “Caffeinate!”.

He poured me a glass of coke. “Here you go. Sugary gogo-juice”, he said, handing me the drink. I drank the whole glass in one go. “Thanks… sorry”, I muttered. “No shame in stating the obvious”.

Someone knocked the door. “Dean, it’s me. Food’s getting cold”. Dean opened the door, and Sam stepped in with a large bag that smelled heavenly. “Did you remember the pie?”, I asked. “Apple. Hope it’s ok”, he said; looking me over. “Why are you wet?”. “I showered”, I said. He frowned. “Cold shower”, Dean smirked. “Shut up”, I sneered.

I went to sit at the kitchen table, and gobbled down the burger quickly. The two men starred at me in wonder. “What?”, I asked, mouth pull of fries. “I love you”, Dean whispered. Sam smacked the back of his head. “How are you feeling, Lulu?”, he asked. “Tired, and ready for bed”, I admitted.

Sam looked around the room. AC/DC was still playing – the album having gone through all the tracks twice by now. “We should do something… keep you awake”, he said. “Do you play chess?”. I frowned. “That’d knock me out for sure”, I said. “A book?”, he tried. “Too tired to read”. “I could read to you…”, he said. “I’m sorry, but your voice is too soft to keep me awake. Especially if you’re reading to me”. Sam looked down in embarrassment; and Dean laughed at him.

“A movie! Something not boring”, he said. He found an old action-movie dvd I hadn’t seen in ages; and put it in the player. A group of antiheroes raced through the streets of Los Angeles, trying to get away from the cops. I paced the floor; knowing that if I sat down, I’d fall asleep.

I began clearing out the kitchen cabinets. I’d only just filled them a few days ago; but I needed something to do. Grabbing a clean cloth, I wiped down the shelves. Dean and Sam were both watching the movie – enraptured. If ever there was a time to run, this was it – but for some reason; I trusted them. Just a few hours ago, I was convinced they were there to rob and kill me, but now; there was something telling me I should go with their story of wanting to help – do the right thing.

I filled up the cabinets again. Dean stepped over to help – chuckling for a moment at my If it requires a bra or pants – it’s not happing today mug. I took the mug from him – and once again our fingers graced – sending tingles down my spine. Dean seemed a bit taken aback by the touch as well, and parted his lips slightly – looking away. I cleared my throat. “What time is it?”, I asked. Dean looked at his watch. “1 am… One of us should get some sleep”, he muttered. “The other keep watch”. I nodded somberly. “There’s no reason for any of you to suffer”, I said. “We should both stay awake”, Sam said. “Just in case. We’ve pulled all nighters before. We’ll be fine”. Dean nodded. He looked towards me. “You look like death though”, he said. “Like I said. Sleep hasn’t exactly been restful”, I muttered.

Sam stood up, and gestured for Dean to follow him into the corner. He began whispering to his brother. Dean frowned. “No… Won’t work… Because I already suggested it, and she said no!”. “I’m not having sex with your brother to stay awake”, I said. Sam looked embarrassed. “Sorry”, he muttered.

Deans eyes lit up. “We could take the Impala for a ride!”, he smiled. “Is that your chevy down there?”, I asked; my eyes lighting up. “That’s my baby”, Dean grinned. “I’m driving”, I said. Deans face looked offended. “You absolutely are not! You can’t see straight, and… no!”.

I sighed. “Ok… conversation it is, then”, I said. “Tell me about hunting. Do you go for big or small game?”. I went to sit by the kitchen table. Dean poured me another glass of coke. “We don’t exactly hunt game”, he said. “Not that kind of game, anyway”. Sam sat down across from me. “We hunt supernatural beings”, he said. “I know it’s hard to believe, but…”. “At this point I’m so exhausted, I’m hallucinating anyway. I’ll believe anything”, I chuckled. “Ever take down a vampire?”. The brothers looked at each other. “Really?”, I gasped. “Those are real? What about werewolves? Bigfoot?”. “The sasquatch has yet to be proved existing”, Sam said. My jaw dropped. “But… werewolves?”. Dean nodded.

“Holy crap… so what’s this thing you think I am?”. Sam frowned. “We don’t know if it’s what you are, as much as what might be using your body”. I furrowed my brows. “That sounds… rapey”. The tall man tried to smile. “I’m sure it’s not an incubus”, he smiled. “A what?”, I asked. “An incubus. Has sex with people in their sleep”, Dean said. “The male version of a succubus. They’re vampire-like”. “Creepy”, I muttered. “You have no idea. That’s a weekend I’m never getting back”, Dean said quietly.

I shook my head. “More… I’m dozing here”. Sam looked desperate. “Hobbies… you have hobbies, right?”, he said. I shrugged. “I like… books. Music. Used to play roller derby”. Dean looked exasperated. “Come on!”, he said. “When this is over – if you’re not a witch, or some other nasty thing – I’m asking you out”. I blushed slightly.

Sam smiled. “Roller derby… like, with a ball, right?”. “Dude…”, Dean said. “No. It’s the thing with the roller skates; and cute girls in fish net stockings”. I frowned. “Actually, fishnet stockings aren’t for everyone. It’s a feminist community of people of all genders; playing a contact sport on roller skates”. “You wore them though, didn’t you?”, he smirked. “Yes…”, I admitted. “They looked good on me”. “I’m sure they did”, he said.

“Why’d you quit?”, Sam asked, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. “Busted my ankle three times in as many years”, I said sadly. “I loved it, but I can’t block like I used to. Took up dancing instead, for a while”. “Like ballroom?”, he said. “Burlesque”, I whispered. Dean went to stand by the wall, and banged his head against it. “Please don’t be a witch”, he said quietly.

“Anything else?”, Sam asked. I shrugged. “What about you?”. “Sammy used to do magic”, Dean said. Sam’s face lit up. “Sit still”, he said. He put his hand behind my ear; pulled a penny from behind it, a grin forming on his face. “Wow…”, I muttered. “Ever saw someone in half?”. “Not as a trick”, he admitted.

I shook my head, and stood up. “I need some fresh air”, I said, and went to stand by the window. The chilly wind hitting my face was soothing, and I closed my eyes. Suddenly someone was shaking my shoulders again. “Lulu!”. Sam and Dean where crouching by me, where I was laying on the floor. “You passed out”, Sam said. Both their faces where worried. I accepted Deans hand, and he pulled up to stand.

“Move around…”, he said, holding a hand to my back, and leading me on a tour of the room. “Sam, find some music. Anything fast”. Sam grabbed a cd from the rack, and soon Tearin’ Up My Heart was blasting from the speakers. He bopped his head, and smiled at us. I smirked back at him; while Dean frowned. “This isn’t gonna work, man”, he said. “She’s gonna pass out again”.

“Could you… maybe tie me down? Then I can’t leave, but still sleep”. They looked at each other. “It’s risky… no”, Dean said. “Please”, I begged. He looked at me with a gentle expression. “Sweetheart, I’d love nothing more than to tie you down”, he smiled. “But it would have to be under completely different circumstances”. I smiled at him. “Raincheck”, I said. He chuckled, and licked his lower lip – making me think exactly the same thoughts I’d had when I saw him at the library.

“Let’s just get through tonight”, Sam said. “We’ll let you sleep soon enough. Just stay with us”. I rubbed my face. “How long can a person go without sleep, before they go crazy?”, I rasped. “I don’t know”, he admitted. “But… around 10 days, before it becomes lethal”. “As in, I die”, I muttered.

Dean pulled my arm out, and examined the bruises on it. “From the looks of it, this thing is already doing some pretty nasty damage to her”, he said. “I’ll call Bobby. He’s got to have something by now”, Sam said. “Who’s Bobby?”, I asked. “A friend”, Dean said. “Yeah. Call him”. Sam went in to the bedroom to be able to hear the phone over the music.

A slow song came up. I halted in my track, and Dean put his hands on each of my shoulders. “I’ll change the music”, he muttered. I nodded, but the motion made me stumble forwards. He caught me in his arms; and I swayed from side to side. “Or… this is fine”, he muttered. He lifted my arms to place them around his neck; and put his own around my waist. “We’re dancing”, I croaked. “Sure are”, Dean said. “I lie awake. I drive myself crazy, drive myself crazy – thinking of you”.

Dean moved us around my living room floor; and suddenly dipped me – making my eyes widen in panic. “I got you”, he chuckled. “Haven’t danced like this since prom”, I smiled. “You’re good at this”. “I went to a lot of proms”, he muttered. “Jenny Sharp. Cathy McKlinsky. Susan Farrow – she was something else”, he grinned. “Why so many?”, I asked. “We moved around a lot. Our dad was a hunter too”. “No, I mean… why so many girls?”, I said. “One should be enough. You could have stayed in touch with… Jenny”. He shrugged, and dipped me again, making me laugh this time. “Not good at attachments”, he admitted. “I’m not surprised”, I chuckled. “Are you rethinking that marriage offer already?”. He smirked. “Maybe I found the one”, he said. I laughed out loud.

Sam returned to the room just as the song ended, and Dean lifted his arm to twirl me underneath it. “Susan Farrow?”, Sam muttered. Dean shrugged. “Bobby says to keep her awake a while longer. He’s working on some leads in Germanic folklore”. “Ok”, Dean said. “It’s almost 2 am. We can do this”. “Let’s take a walk outside”, Sam said. I shrugged, and went to get my sneakers.

---

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@edonaspanca

@wonderlandfandomkingdom

#dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #dean x oc #supernatural #supernatural fic #sam winchester

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inactiive-shit · 5 years

Text

Friends In Scary Places

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Prompt: Haunted house

Warnings: Deceit, Remus, haunted house stuff, gore (for the actors’ costumes), gettin scared

Pairing: romantic Moxiety, Intrulogical, Roceit

Words: 3,427

@sanderssidescelebrations and so here we are:

Patton loved haunted houses. It wasn’t something most people expected, wasn’t something most people looked at him and assumed. People liked to look at Patton and see pretty and delicate and soft and gentle and sweet. And Patton was those things, he enjoyed being those things.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t fun to let go sometimes.

So when he asked his boyfriend if they could go to a haunted house, well, it was a pretty big shock. They’d been dating for six months and he was still realizing just how many facets Patton had.

“You want to go to a haunted house?” Virgil asked, disbelief coating his words. Patton smiled, nodded. “Seriously?” The incredulous look on his face was melting away into a genuine, excited smile.

“Of course seriously, Virge. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

“Awesome,” Virgil said, practically vibrating. “I love haunted houses but I wasn’t sure you’d want to go and I didn’t want to bring it up because I didn’t want you to feel pressured into it.”

“Well, honey, you have to ask,” Patton said. “Asking isn’t going to pressure me into saying yes if I mean no.” He kissed Virgil’s cheek. “But I do love haunted houses, and I would love to go to one with you even more.” A blush spread over Virgil’s face, and Patton could not have been happier.

That’s how eleven o’clock p.m. finds them standing at the front of the line for Patton’s favorite haunted house. It was cold, and Virgil was shivering, but Patton wrapped his arms around his boyfriend to keep him warm.

“Just so you know,” Virgil added just before they walked in the door, “I have a disclaimer: I am a jumpy person. I will scream a lot. You may be deaf by the time this is over.”

“It’s okay, honey,” Patton said. “I’ll protect you.” They drew closer together and stepped through the door into a small, dark room.

They were in a group of six with four strangers. One man had curly red hair and a bright red sash on, dressed as a prince. He was holding hands with a man who was wearing one snake-eye contact and had scales drawn artfully down the side of his face. The other two weren’t dressed up: one had glasses and a tie and an afro, holding onto his companion too tightly for it just to be casual. The last man looked just like the first, but with darker hair, a mustache, and a crop top on.

“Same glasses!” Patton exclaimed to the most put-together looking one of the bunch. He scrunched up his face in confusion, but didn’t comment.

“I like your make-up,” Virgil said to the smallest one with scales.

“What make-up? Darling, I assure you, this is all real.” The man motioned to his face with a flourish. Virgil stared for a moment before turning to Patton deadpan and saying, “I didn’t know they were sending us through with clowns.” The person Scaley was holding hands with choked on a laugh.

“Please,” he said, “ignore my boyfriend. He deals with fear by lying.”

“I do not,” Scaley hissed. Sash chuckled and kept going like a steamroller with no breaks.

“Also, if I punch you, I am so sorry. My fear response is to hit things.”

“I wonder why that would be?” said Glasses with a pointed look at the final member of their group. He almost seemed to preen under the judgemental gaze.

“I take no responsibility for that,” Clone said with a smile that told Patton he really was at fault. “If he gets scared of worms, he simply should not lay in a bed of them. Rip to Roman, but I’m different.” Glasses pinched his nose with his free hand and closed his eyes, looking like he was fighting off a migraine or an aneurysm.

“Patton,” Virgil said faintly, “I think we’re going to die.” Patton squeezed the arm around Virgil’s waist, reassuring him silently. This was a rather eclectic group, but they seemed friendly enough! There were new friends around every corner, and this haunted house would be no different.

“This way, please,” an eerie old man said in easily the most disturbing voice Patton had ever heard. Their group shuffled toward the second door. “Once you go through this door, there is no turning back. Does anyone want to run while you still have the chance?” None of them said anything. “Wonderful. Willing sacrifices. Makes my job much easier. I don’t want to have to run you down.” Patton laughed softly. “Now, the rules are simple: do not touch the monsters as they will not touch you. Do not go off the path. It leads through the house and out the other side. We are not responsible for you if you leave the path and are lost for the rest of eternity. Do not go backwards on the path; there will be another group behind yours. If the scaring becomes too intense and you would like to leave, flag one of us down. You will be taken out of the house; there are no refunds. Any questions?” They all stayed quiet. “Good.” He pushed the door open to reveal a long, narrow hallway. “Have fun. Try not to stay too long. They like to keep you if they get fond.” The man laughed in a distinctly creepy way. Virgil shivered against Patton’s side.

“Front or back?” Patton whispered to Virgil.

“Getting stabbed first?” Virgil asked. “No thank you. I’ll take the back.”

“So they can sneak up behind you? Interesting priorities,” Scaley said.

“I have eyes in the back of my head,” Virgil said. “Much better than my forward facing ones.” Patton giggled at the totally serious look on his boyfriend’s face; it was so cute that he could say bullshit so convincingly.

“Do you also have-”

“Don’t,” chimed Scaley, Sash, and Glasses all in unison, speaking right over whatever Clone was saying. Clone just smiled gleefully.

“We’ll take the lead,” Sash said, pulling Scaley with him to the front. “Don’t worry, we’ll protect you guys from any murderers. A prince does nothing less for his subjects.” Clone grumbled something, but all of his friends ignored it. Patton smiled sympathetically at him, and they proceeded through the door.

“Thank you, sir,” Patton said to the employee still holding the door open as they passed. The man just smiled, too wide and slightly deranged, and Patton smiled right back.

“Smile too much and your face’ll stick like that,” Virgil mumbled into Patton’s neck as their group inched down the hall. Patton shrugged, jostling Virgil slightly toward the wall.

“I don’t think that would be so bad.”

“No,” Virgil agreed. “I like your face like that. But I like your face a lot of other ways too.”

Their group came up on the first room, and Sash groaned when he saw it. “Of course this would be first.” He buried his face in Scaley’s hair.

“At least it can’t get any worse for you,” Scaley muttered, smirking as he pulled them into the room.

“Are you sure about that?” Virgil and Clone said at the same time. They both paused, and Clone turned around to make eye contact with Virgil.

“A new friend?” Clone asked.

“Hell yeah,” Virgil said. They fist bumped. Glasses rolled his eyes.

“Good god, there’s two of them now,” he said. Patton laughed and patted the man’s shoulder.

“The more the merrier?” he suggested as they finally went into the room. Glasses grumbled and shook his head at the toys littering the walls and bed of the room.

“Oh, Roman, you must be in hell,” said Clone. “I sure hope none of these dolls talk. Or move. Or follow you home.” Glasses placed a hand over Clone’s mouth.

“Aw, c’mon,” Patton lied. “I think they’re kind of cute.” He giggled at the look of horror on his companion’s faces, at the look of adoration on Virgil’s, and examined the room. Exceptionally creepy dolls were lining shelves that spanned every wall, as well as being thrown haphazardly on the floor and bed. The bed itself was dirty - who would let a child’s bed get so nasty? - and had a checkered sheet on. It reminded Patton of the one he used at home. He shivered.

“We are going to die here,” Sash sang.

“The scariest thing about this is how unclean it is,” Glasses said, shaking. They began walking more quickly, but froze in place when a tinny laugh sounded from across the room. Virgil shivered and took a step farther away from the doll lined wall. Patton laughed nervously. Dolls were awful.

The bed near the far wall began rumbling and shaking, and a humanoid figure rose under the sheets. They all scrambled to face it, packed in close, and Patton realized too late that their backs were exposed.

He turned just in time to see the horrifyingly made-up doll-girl just a few inches away. He let out a shout and backpedaled, and Virgil followed him without a word of objection. The others all scrambled away, trying to find sanctuary.

“Don’t you want to play with me?” the girl asked. “Mommy says you have to play with me.” She giggled, dropped her head sideways so it looked like her neck had been broken. She stopped giggling. “Aren’t you going to play with me?” Suddenly, dozens of other voices began sounding around the room, demanding play and mommy said. The girl staggered closer to them, arms outstretched, and her voice dropped to sound nearly demonic. “Come and play!” she shrieked.

“Sorry, we can’t play! So busy right now! Maybe later!” Virgil grabbed Patton’s hand and took off, and Patton did not hesitate to follow. They were the last ones to clear the plastic strips separating the doll room from the next short hall.

“Why did you stay in there so long? Are you two insane?” exclaimed Sash. Patton smiled at him, shrugged.

“I thought her dress was cute,” he said, heart hammering in his chest.

“I should have asked where she got it,” Virgil added. “I might get one.” Patton giggled and squeezed Virgil’s hand. One thing Patton had been very happy to discover when he and Virgil had marathoned horror movies together was that they dealt with fear in the same way: talking about the normal aspects and never acknowledging how terrifying it was. It bothered some people, but it worked well enough.

“I liked the dolls,” Clone said. “Might have to come back through and take one home with me.”

“You are absolutely not,” said Glasses. When Clone didn’t say anything, Glasses said, “Remus Prince, if I find one of those dolls in our apartment, I will personally kill you.”

“Kinky,” said Clone. Glasses glared at him as they started down the hall. “Fine. Anything for you, Lolo! Though I do so wish you’d ask for something a little...exciting. Like a-”

“Don’t,” said the other three in unison. They reached the next door as Clone pouted.

“I think a doll would be a very thoughtful gift,” Patton whispered. Virgil elbowed his ribs.

“I side with neck tie,” Virgil muttered. “If there is a doll anywhere in my general vicinity in the next two months and it is your doing, I will end you.”

“Well,” Patton said, and was cut off by Virgil’s scream. People in inmate outfits and chains and mutilated animal masks were banging on the walls and sticking their arms through the bars, begging for help. All six of them rushed down the hallway, but Scaley and Sash pulled farther ahead. And it was Virgil who saw the next scare first.

“Oh, fuck, there’s a corner,” Virgil whispered. “People always hide around corners. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” He giggled half-hysterically. “This is why we choose the back. Shit.” Sash, heedless of the corner and scarer behind it, did not slow down. The man rounded the corner, flailed backward screaming, and then forged onward, breezing past the scarer as though they were nothing more than a statue. Before Clone and Glasses, in front of Patton and Virgil, even got to the corner, Virgil screamed and dived forward, losing his grip on Patton’s hand. Patton turned to see the girl from the doll room smiling crookedly.

“Don’t you want to come back and play?”

“I love your dress and I would love to play, but you are very scary, goodbye!” Patton said. He jumped forward and Virgil snatchd his hand. They ran to catch the other pair. Even though they all knew where the person around the corner was, they still screamed and careened into Clone and Glasses and then took off running.

Patton pulled Virgil through the plastic strips leading to the second room and stopped short. There was a man with a chainsaw standing over a screaming woman with her intestines spilling out. Nurses milled around the room looking like zombies with pallid green skin and broken limbs.

“What a wonderful heart!” Chainsaw-Doctor’s-Coat-Man said, as the woman screamed and he began pulling out organs. “But this liver,” he tutted. “What a shame, what a shame.” His eyes flitted up to lock with Virgil’s. “But you…” he came closer, chainsaw in one hand and pointing at Virgil with the other. “You look like you have a lively liver.”

“No, sir,” Virgil said, slowly inching closer to the other four, “no such liver here. I drink. All the time. My liver really has gone down the shitter.” Clone laughed.

“Help me! Please!” the woman screamed raggedly. Patton tapped a pattern on Virgil’s hand. Virgil was tensed to run, but he still gave Patton’s hand a quick squeeze.

“What about you, my boy?” the doctor said, moving on. “What’s your liver worth to you? Your life?” Before Clone could respond, the doctor stepped back and revved his chainsaw. “Nurses, get him!” As one, every nurse in the room turned to face them, and then staggered forward. “Run, little pretties! Run, run!”

And run they did. They ran straight through the rest of the room, and spilled out into the hallway. There were strobe lights on the ceiling and it was much tighter than the last, barely larger than one person wide. Sash had managed to cram in next to Scaley and they held each other.

“That’s it,” he announced. “I am no longer leading this expedition. I quit.”

“Are you alright, kiddo?” Patton asked, concerned. “Do you need to leave?” It shouldn’t be too hard to track down a cast member and get him out if he needed it. Sash paused to deliberate, but shook his head.

“No. I just do not want to be in the front anymore. We’re moving to the middle.”

“We can take front if you don’t want it,” Virgil said. With everyone in agreement, Virgil and Patton crushed to the wall and squished through. Virgil took the lead. Patton had ahold of Virgil’s hoodie as they went. Sash was directly behind him, muttering in spanish.

“You doing good, kiddo?” he asked quietly. Sash jumped, but smiled shakily and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine. To be honest, I’m only here because everyone else likes it. Haunts are...not my typical hang out.” Sash shrugged. “I don’t mind coming, but I am not built for this. I’m meant for the lap of luxury.” He sighed theatrically. “But a Prince must do what Prince must do.”

“Well, if it gets to be too much, there’s no shame in leaving,” Patton said. “But to not even like it and come in anyway? You’re braver than all of us, kiddo.” They turned a corner in relative silence.

“Oh, cool,” Virgil groaned. “Creepy paintings on the walls. I wonder what those do.” Patton giggled and then got a despicable idea.

“Watch this,” he muttered to Sash. Slowly, he pulled Virgil’s hoodie back slightly and then grabbed his side with no warning. Virgil shrieked and took off. Sash jumped in surprise and hit Patton’s back, but Patton was laughing so hard he barely even noticed.

“You fucking asshole,” Virigl said, collapsed at the other end of the hall. “Betrayed by my very own fucking boyfriend like this? How could you?” Patton felt a little bad, but Virgil was fighting not to smile so he didn’t feel too bad.

“You are absolutely ruthless,” Roman said. “I am-” Two of the paintings dropped out of their frames and monsters screamed and reached out for them. The others started screaming but Patton just stumbled, almost fell, and then raced to Virgil. When he turned around, Glasses and Clone had evidently retreated and Scaley was rushing Sash toward the correct end of the hall.

The paintings slid back into place. Virgil started laughing, and Patton looked at him fondly.

“What’s so funny?” Sash asked, voice shaking.

“Nothing,” Virgil said, still giggling. “There’s noth-ing funny at all.”

“He does this when he gets scared sometimes,” Patton confided in Sash. He pulled Virgil up from the floor. “You good to keep going?”

“I’m fine, Pat.” Virgil was starting to calm down, so Patton took his hand and pulled them toward the final room. Creepy music box music was floating out, and Patton parted the barrier to see what the inside was: a mirror maze. That was certainly a new addition.

“Fuck,” Patton said.

“Double fuck,” agreed Virgil. “Are any of you good with directions?” Every person in their group shook their head. Virgil sighed. “This is not how I thought I was going to die tonight, but here we are. Let’s get this over with.” He went left. Patton had a feeling they should have gone straight.

Patton thought, going in, that a mirror maze would be hard but not that scary; he was wrong. There were trick mirrors and actors creeping around the maze. The source of the music was constantly changing locations, and whenever it got louder, somebody was bound to jump out. Until they didn’t, and they were all coiled tense as springs for no reason. Once the music even stopped, and Patton is unashamed to admit he almost wet himself terror when it started back up directly next to his head. Sometimes the lights flickered, others they strobed, and occasionally went out completely. There was a thick layer of fog covering the ground, and at one point they managed to lose both Clone and Virgil. They found them again through sheer luck and the pair’s terrified screams when they got snuck up on.

It took them twenty minutes to find their way out of the maze, and they only did it that quickly because the actors had to start herding them toward the exit.

“I see you lived,” said the same old man who had showed them in. “How unfortunate. Toodle-oo.” He shooed them away and pulled the door shut behind them.

The six of them, bonded by fear, just stood there.

“It feels weird to leave now that we’ve all been talking to each other, doesn’t it?” asked Virgil. “It’s almost like we should be friends or something.”

“We are friends, emo,” said Clone. “We already agreed.”

“Good point.” Virgil shrugged. “Still, though.”

“Maybe we should, I don’t know,” said Scaley sarcastically, “exchange numbers and meet up again or something.”

“There’s a nice little Halloween festival happening tomorrow night that we’re going to,” Patton offered. At Roman’s shudder, he added, “No scares or anything. There’s a little petting zoo with goats and alpacas and they have a corn maze and games and hot apple cider and hot chocolate. It goes from five pm to three am.”

“That is an acceptable outcome for me,” Glasses said. He passed his phone to Patton. “Input your contact information, and I will send it to everyone else, if that is alright?” Patton nodded and entered both his and Virgil’s stuff.

“It was nice meeting you,” Patton said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” Patton waved and they all went their separate ways.

That night, as they lay in Virgil’s bed to sleep, Virgil mumbled quietly, “Whoever heard of making friends in a haunted house?” Patton hummed in response and stroked Virgil’s hair. “I don’t know anybody but you that could do something like that, Pat.”

“You did it just as much as I did, Virge,” Patton said. He paused as Virgil snuggled closer, then picked up playing with his hair again. “Love you, V.”

“Love you too, Patton. See you in the morning.” Virgil went out like a light and Patton, exhausted from their night of scares, was not long to follow.

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