#of course Top would still hang out with an ex that Sand wants nothing to do with it fits the whole fact that Sand is still salty about it

[hotasfahrenheit]

i was fully on board the "Mix Must Be Boeing Who Else Could Be As Perfect" train until THIS MAN SHOWED UP

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Explosions

EPISODE 6 OF ONLY FRIENDS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD! Seriously it was just fight after fight after fight, every relationship being shifted, undermined, or blown up in minutes and it was glorious. I think a good summary for this episode is “It’s always the quiet ones” 

If you want the TL;DR version of any of these, you can check out @lurkingshan’s much more cohesive, succinct description of each fight, and the winner. 

Sand v. Top 

Something that I truly and deeply appreciate about Only Friends is how much they are really committing to letting these boys act their motherfucking ages. We would think that Sand is a more responsible, independent person out of necessity, that he has his life together more, that he is more mature. After all, like we said last week, Boston came in to his home, smoked his weed, and fucked with his relationship and Sand took the high road (so we thought) of shutting his goddamn mouth and not airing Boston and Top’s dirty laundry. 

But damn if this boy ain’t twenty, petty, and fueled by rage at even the smallest sight of Top’s face. 

Sand goes to the Coffee House and orders a Pink Milk (now, pink milk/pink drink is a pretty old BL trope if I understand correctly, and so imo it is a testament to Sand’s character and his expectations of romance that he would order such a drink, and a statement on Jojo and Ninew’s part that the coffee house does not have milk and therefore cannot deliver the drink of BL romance everywhere.) Top appears, ordering his drinks, and we get a blessed side eye from Sand full of incredulity, barely contained disdain, and annoyance.

GOD I WANT THEM TO BE HALF-BROTHERS SO BAD! Anyway…

Top does give a rather amicable hello, and initiates a casual, emotionless conversation. But of course, Sand hates this motherfuckers’ guts for stealing his ex, and Sand knows exactly what and how Top thinks of him, so that protective snark we saw when Sand initially started engaging with Rich-Boy-Ray, returns. 

Top, on the other hand, thinks nothing of Sand, not that he hates him, not that he likes him, but fully that Sand is nothing. Sand is poor, Sand is struggling, Sand is nowhere close to competition for him. Top is precisely the kind of asshole that uses subtle jibes and jabs to chip away at people who understand what he is doing. Sand fucking hates this guy, so it is easy beyond measure to get Sand going. 

Especially because, we know that Sand knows about Top and Boston, and we know that Boston poked the bear the other night and fucked with Sand’s feelings about Ray. Top needles, and Sand inches closer to showing his hand ‘Mew seems nice. How unlucky of him to have you as his boyfriend’ 

And the perfect boyfriend mask that Top has been so successfully adorning drops “I can have anyone I want…I got mine now. I hope you get yours” 

(I am putting this screenshot in here because I find it really interesting from a visual storytelling/cinematography perspective that Sand is cast in Top’s shadow.)

And get his Sand will, because the first thing Sand does when he gets home is break the shit out of his phone so hard that Nick asks if he went to war. He “borrows” Nick’s phone to “call his Mom” promptly sending himself the audio file of Boston and Top having sex. (Pro Tip: If you are going to audio record two guys having sex, maybe don’t tell a goddamn soul you have it unless you are ready for that information to come to light.) 

Some questions I have here: why did Sand ask about if Nick was still seeing Boston? Why does Sand seem chill with Nick and Boston still hanging out together after Boston just went full douchebag all over his apartment. 

(My assumption/my theory here, which I am not really thinking has any basis in reality is that Sand is looking to see if Nick is still hanging out with Boston after Boston blew up the fantasy relationship he had with Ray. As if he was figuring out if it was worth it to throw Nick in to the mix when he is making the decision to ignite the stick of dynamite that is everyone’s relationships to one another.)

Then he meets with Ray at the bar. 

“Are you mad at me for that night?”

“Why would I be mad? Who you like is your business” Sand says, like a liar, and I am almost entirely certain that Ray knows this is a lie. Because he was with Sand the night Boston went off and he heard those crack’s in Sand’s voice. 

Something that I absolutely love about Ray as a character is that he is so completely unable to control his facial expressions. Whatever he is thinking or feeling is on his face the second that the emotion enters his body. You can see it in the fight scene with Boston in episode 5, how quickly Ray’s face shifts from crossfaded, relaxed, and smiley to focused, tense, and angry. So his reaction to Sand’s response is no surprise. Ray smirks, and looks away from Sand. 

“You called me here to play pool?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you…about Mew,” Sand is looking straight at Ray at this point, and I don’t know about y’all but it feels to me like Sand is assessing Ray’s reaction.  There is a MASSIVE pause from Ray at this point, a large bout of silence, and VERY slow, calculated motion as he brings himself to a (drunken) upright position. 

“What? Are you not okay that I like him?”

A deep inhale from Sand, and then a smile “I am okay. I even get why you like him. He is nice. People around can’t help falling for him.” Sand is priming his trap, weaponizing Ray’s feelings for Mew.

So here is the thing with Ray. Ray is both an open book and a man of direct action, part of this may just be his personality, but part of this is that Ray is constantly under the influence, and with altered mental status, it is going to both be harder to control your outward emotional expression and you are going to get escalated more quickly. Ray has an extremely low tolerance for bullshit, and in some capacities that is a negative thing (ex: 80% of the actions Ray does after his conversation with Sand in the pool hall), but it can sometimes be a positive thing, because it allows Ray to cut to the chase. To try to skirt around whatever mind games Sand is trying to play: “Just say what you mean”. 

Sand sends Ray the audio recording, “I didn’t know who to tell, so I told you” Sand says, turning his attention to the pool table.

This is a crucial move, because Sand is not making eye contact with Ray. Sand is toying with Ray, he is trying to seem disinterested in Ray, in their conversation, unaffected by the other night, casual in his relationship to Ray, casual in the massive invasion of privacy that he just handed to Ray, unphased by the ammunition he has just loaded in to the loose cannon. 

“I just don’t want a good guy like Mew to get fooled by Top. Mew is lucky though…

“To have you by his side”

Sand knows exactly what he is doing. He knows Ray likes Mew, and he knows Ray has a tendency to get riled up. Sand may not fully anticipate just how much he is setting Ray up to get hurt here, but he for fucking sure knows he is priming a weapon. If you ask me, Sand is placing the idea in Ray’s head to bring this information to Mew, to reveal the truth and break Mew and Top up so that Top loses the relationship that he just rubbed in Sand’s face, with minimal effort and suspicion that Sand was behind any of it. Which is why Sand looks up from the pool table as he says this line, because he’s studying Ray to see if Ray is picking up what Sand is putting down, and as we will see later, Sand has successfully planted the seed.

Ray is easy, Ray takes the bait, Ray immediately goes firing off in every direction he can. That boy waits, what? Probably one day before he runs straight to Boston to give him a piece of his mind. 

Ray v. Boston

There are too many phenomenal scenes in Episode 6 to pick a favorite, but I do think this is one of the best scenes that we’ve seen for Boston so far. By which I mean that we get a lot of information about Boston’s character from the way he navigates this conversation with Ray. We saw his proclivity for douchebaggery in Episode 5, and we’ve seen his propensity for fear when he is almost caught by Mew in the showers with Top. But we haven’t really seen these two aspects of Boston’s character interacting with each other, or at least not as strongly. 

Ray comes storming in to Boston’s home immediately riled up and cussing him out, calling him all sorts of names asking if he is going to do nasty shit to all of his friends, and of course, Boston at this point has no idea that the recording exists (and he is just a major asshole) so he is legitimately very confused about what Ray could possibly be talking about. 

“You hooked up with Top!” Ray shouts, and there is a look of genuine fear in Boston’s eyes. No one was around that he knew about or saw when he hooked up with Top that night, no one should have known that happened. Boston already has one recorded gay sex event hanging over his head as potential blackmail (thanks Gap), and now he is faced with the realization that there may be evidence of a second gay sex event.

Boston cares about his father’s reputation. Boston is not out to his father. Boston is probably far less discrete and careful than he should be, but I do think it is fair for him to assume that people aren’t going to record his sexual encounters with them without his consent. (I want to take a pause here just to say that I think I guessed right about some of the reasoning for Boston’s behavior especially in the earlier episodes has to do with his inability to be out.) This scene is where we get the longest continuous exposure to Boston’s fear. He is scared when Ray says he knows about him and Top, he is scared when he asks who told Ray, at this point you would think Ray would be the victor of this fight, but the second that Ray brings Mew in to the conversation?

Boston puts a mask on, and he smiles, because he has found a way to protect himself, and that is to use Ray’s weak spot (his crush on Mew) against him. To turn the tides in his favor, to manipulate Ray’s feelings, Ray’s attachment to Mew, Ray’s love of Mew in to staying quiet about his hook up with Top. 

“So? Top and I screwed even before they started dating. Is it so weird to screw again? I just wanted more. Then I let them love each other all they want. Everyone has a happy ending. Everyone is filled.” 

I am fascinated here by Boston’s comment “I let them love each other all they want”. As if he personally has control over Top and Mew’s feelings for each other, as if he didn’t violate Mew’s ability to trust Top whenever, if ever that information comes to light. (Secondarily, Boston chooses some truly masterful double entendres here “happy ending”, “everyone filled”). 

Ray continues on his shouting spree, asking Boston how he could do that to a friend, and we see the aloof and unbothered mask slip off once again, in favor of an actual plea to be listened to. “Hear me out, okay? I don’t hate Mew at all. I was just needy. The timing was just wrong” Now, while I don’t believe Boston about Mew and about the timing because we know he only started going after Top when Top started showing greater interest in Mew, and didn’t just nail and bail. But, I don’t think Boston is entirely lying to Ray here about being needy. One thing I do wish this show had more time for is establishing the past relationship between Boston and Ray before they get to this point. When Ray says later on in the episode that Boston tells him all about his sexual conquests, is that just something he says to Ray or is that something he tells the whole group when he is recounting his previous nights? This matters only in the sense of me feeling more secure in how much, if any, of what Boston is saying to Ray is true. 

“Timing, my ass. The point is your slutty ass just sleeps with anyone.” Ray says, and Boston looks down at the ground, draws in a breath, and then meets Ray with this cocky, teasing smirk and the line “Not just anyone. I picked him.” 

Ray wants to see Boston as a villain, so Boston will be one. Boston is generally a contradictory asshole, but in my opinion if he wasn’t faking some of this confidence and prodding at Ray, he would not have needed prep time, we would have seen that sincerity drop, the way we saw Top’s sincerity drop in his conversation with Sand. Instead, Boston has to prepare himself to act this way, though he is able to slip in to this part of himself with ease. Also, I have no deep insights in to this, because I am simply just obsessed with the little shoulder shrug Boston gives Ray. Spitting in his face would have been less disrespectful than the way Boston shrugs off Ray’s comment about him being a slut. (Once again I say Neo Trai is absolutely crushing this role).

Boston asks how Ray is involved (a great question, because it is literally none of Ray’s business) and then goes in for the kill with his acknowledgement of Ray’s crush, and the underlying dickishness Boston knows (or thinks he knows) is there. “You’re playing a good friend who is always so protective of Mew. Honestly, I think you are glad that it happened. You’ve always waited for your chance. This is in your favor. You’re waiting for them to break up and be his rebound when he is weak.” 

I don’t know that it really needs to be called out directly, but I am going to do it anyway. What Boston just said to Ray’s face is exactly what Sand was thinking, and alluding to when he gave Ray that recording. You cannot convince me otherwise. But Sand was subtle in how he put those thoughts in Ray’s head, so he is successful in getting Ray appropriately riled up. Boston too, is successful in riling up Ray by being direct with him, but Boston gets punched in the face and makes Ray even angrier at him than he was before. 

“If you tell him, then you’re as evil as me. Don’t act like you mean well when deep down you hope they will break up. It’s disgusting!” He stands up, and stalks right up to Ray’s face.

“You should even thank me big time for getting you out of the friendzone.” 

Regardless of the fact that Boston is not yet aware of the recording of him and Top, he is acutely aware that he needs to protect himself from this information getting out. So again, he hones in on Ray’s weakness. Boston compares Ray to himself, to the person that Ray is absolutely furious with. He plays to Ray’s own insecurities and to Ray’s need to be seen as a good person and viable partner for Mew. Ray loves his friends, Ray loves Mew, Ray does not want to hurt Mew, if Ray tells Mew about Top cheating on him Mew will be hurt, if Mew rebounds with Ray after he and Top break up that makes Boston right about Ray’s intentions, that makes Ray evil. That is the implication here. And, just in case trying to convince Ray that if he tells Mew about the cheating then he is just as evil as the person who literally got fucked by Top, Boston throws in a little bit extra.  Ray should be grateful. Ray should thank Boston. Boston’s shitty actions here, Boston’s betrayal of his friendship with Mew, have cleared the way for Ray to play the hero. Ray shouldn’t tell Mew any of this because he owes Boston. Ray came charging in to Boston’s own home, with a leg up in the conversation, and showed his hand, allowing Boston to exploit Ray’s feelings and gain the upper hand. In one expert fell swoop, Boston has upset Ray enough for him to storm off and is feeling pretty confident and secure in the knowledge that Ray will not say anything to Mew.

Ray v. Everyone

By the time Ray gets to Mew’s birthday party he has been ignored, insulted, manipulated, and belittled constantly by almost every single person that says they care about him. Cheum has laughed at his love life, Sand used Ray to further his own agenda, Boston has thoroughly fucked with Ray’s life in a number of ways, and even Mew is harsher than usual to Ray when they run in to eachother in the bathroom and Mew tells Ray to stop doing drugs or he’ll be dead by 30. 

Ray loves Mew, Ray has been told over and over again by Mew that he only sees Ray as a friend, and there in the bathroom, Mew once again says “let’s be friends forever”. At this point, Mew has made it pretty fucking clear that he is never going to date Ray, and all of Ray’s friends have been shitty to him, and he is also drunk AND high, so for me it would track that Ray has literally nothing to lose by being honest. Every relationship Ray has, someone has fucked with. Top tries to get Mew on his side in his hatred of Ray, Sand put his barriers back up to protect his own feelings when Boston mentioned Ray’s crush on Mew, Ray fucked himself over with Mew by kissing him when he was asleep, Cheum points out Ray’s lack of love life and otherwise pretty much ignores Ray. So it also tracks for me that Ray would try to get back at everyone by fucking with their relationships.

Ray pulls a Top and gets up on stage to steal Sand’s microphone and make a public declaration, something that we as the audience should already know Mew does not like, because he said as much to Top after Top publicly asked Mew to be his boyfriend. Sand, bless him, tries to put a stop to this immediately by asking Ray what he is doing, but not to be deterred, and using the guise of Mew’s birthday he takes control of the microphone and the entire bar’s attention.  Before I go too much in to the actual roast session, I would recommend everyone who has seen Episode 6 go back to this scene and watch how Book plays Mew in this scene. Every single moment (until Mew gets mad that is) that Mew is on screen, he looks forlorn. But in the chaos of the bar scene, the quick cuts to all the couples dancing it can be hard to notice, especially if we weren’t looking out for it. This whole scene is set up spectacularly as foreshadowing for Mew’s revenge at the end of the episode, and if you pay close enough attention highlights the huge problems in Mew and Top’s relationship. Mew is upset, Mew is visibly upset, and Top is standing right there next to Mew the entire time. Top is dancing with Mew, Top is putting himself between Mew and Ray. Mew and Top are inches from each other during this entire scene and Top does not notice or ask about Mew’s mood shift once. Because Top has never truly been attentive to Mew’s feelings.

Anyway, Mew lays waste to Cheum, Boston, and Nick before Sand recognizes this is going nowhere good fast, and once again tries to put a stop to it. 

Ray has been ignored by too many people, Ray has been fucked with for too long for him to just let everything go and leave. And remember, he is drunk and high on cocaine so he is not de-escalating any time soon, and no one in that bar is at all equipped to change his focus and calm him down. Sand gets involved, but Sand is the cause of all of this mess because he gave Ray the information, and Ray will not be silenced, so he tries to insult Sand. “You don’t even want to be a singer, you just want to make money. If you want it so much, why don’t you sleep with me?” 

AND SORRY, I KNOW THAT I SHOULD REALLY BE TALKING ABOUT THE TOP, BOSTON, MEW OF IT ALL BUT I FUCKING LOVE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS LINE.

Because we know that Ray has offered to pay Sand for sex before, and we know that Ray has asked Sand how much he owed for their “one night stand”, only to have Sand on every occasion, reject the money. Sand has said that if he wants sex, he does it for free. Literally from the moment that Sand realized that he had some sort of positive feelings for Ray, and agreed to be his friend, he has not accepted a single bhat from Ray. But in front of all of these people, Ray is implying that Sand is a sex worker. In front of Boston, who has walked in on Ray and Sand making out, and in front of Nick who has interrupted Ray and Sand in the middle of something physically intimate on more than one occasion, Ray has just made it seem to them like Sand has been paid to cater to Ray’s every whim, in front of people that know Sand well. 

We love and respect sex workers in this house, but Ray? Ray is not saying this because he thinks sex work is okay. Ray is saying this because he thinks calling someone a prostitute (in a sense) is insulting, and that is not helped by the fact that they are in public and therefore Ray is subjecting Sand to public scrutiny over him potentially being a sex worker.  And in associating Sand with sex work, in associating sex with Ray as sex work, Ray is undermining the validity of any and all time that Sand and Ray have hung out together, and is highlighting his status as a higher class than Sand. 

Ray turns to Mew, showering praise and gratitude and well wishes upon him, and telling Mew “though that happiness doesn’t include me, I’m okay,” and Mew does not react in any way that is comforting, he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t nod. He just stands there, staring at Ray, and by my impression trying not to cry. And God, what I wouldn’t give to see Boston’s reaction to this moment, because we do not get to see him at all during this moment, and I want to know how confident Boston was feeling that Ray wouldn’t say anything about his affair with Top when Ray is acknowledging that he knows that Mew will never return his feelings.

I don’t know about you all, but personally, I believe Ray here. I think Ray has been rejected enough by Mew, and fucked up his relationship enough with Mew that he does just need to affirm to Mew that he understands what he has done, and that he understands that Mew will only ever think about him as a friend, and that Ray is there to support Mew in whatever he decides to do with the information, we as the audience do not know Mew already has. 

Ray turns his ire on Top, shouting at the top of his lungs, insulting Top, shoving Top, generally causing a scene and we finally get a glimpse of Boston, but he’s blurred out in the background, so while his face is unreadable, we get some indication of Boston’s emotional state by that fact that he is tuned the fuck in to everything going on, because the only thing we can read from Boston is that he is staring directly at Top. Ray continues to escalate, and Yo finally steps in, but she allows Ray to continue after a moment, which is like…girl, come on, where is the responsible bar owner? 

Ray starts shoving Top, Mew tries to step in, Top grabs Mew around the shoulder and jerks him back like he owns Mew. And because there are very few people in this world that take Ray seriously at all, Cheum tries to get involved. Reminding Ray that Mew is not gonna fuck him (I mean, that’s not exactly what she said but same shit) which Ray knows. I think, personally, that Ray is fully aware that there is a chance that he has completely ruined his relationship with Mew by valuing Mew enough to tell him the truth. That he has made himself as evil as Boston by telling Mew anything at all. 

I’ve said it before, I will say it again, Ray is one of the biggest open books in this show because of his substance use. We saw very early in the episode when the hotel management group was talking with their professor every single emotion, every single thought that Ray was

experiencing. From nearly the beginning of the show, we have seen Ray ignored or belittled by most of his friends, as someone who loves and has worked with drug users, I have to say that Jojo and co are doing an incredible job at demonstrating all the little ways that people discount, discredit, and dehumanize drug users. All of his friends, Boston, Cheum, and especially Mew think they are better than Ray because he uses drugs. We see it in the bathroom, right before the Ray-mpage, Mew realizing Ray has just done drugs, and then telling his suicidal friend that he would be dead before 30 if he keeps this behavior up. 

So of course Ray wants all these truths to come to light. Of course Ray has to be the one to do it. Because how dare all of these people stand around, pretending to be friendly to one another, pretending to care about one another, acting like they are all good people, when they are all manipulating, and controlling, and lying to each other. No one in this bar is better than Ray, even though they think they are. 

“No one has said a damn thing, which is why I need to” Ray shouts and then immediately turns to Boston. And as he continues to get riled up, as he gets closer to publicly revealing Top’s infidelity, Mew steps in, and it takes Mew punching Ray in the face to get him to shut the fuck up and preserve the image of clueless Mew.

Ray storms off and Sand goes running after him because he is the only person with some goddamn sense, realizing that Ray is going to endanger himself and others. They have their fight, which for the sake of space and time I am not going to talk about.

Mew v. Top

We reach a decompression point (so we think) after this fight, Sand quietly driving off after Ray, Nick reaching out to and having his comforting touch be rejected by Boston, Mew and Top walking back in to Mew’s apartment, with Mew only speaking when he is spoken to. 

Now, this cannot be convey through photographs alone, but I JUST NEED TO SHOUT TO THE HIGH HEAVENS ABOUT HOW FUCKING OBSESSED AND IN LOVE I AM WITH THE BACKGROUND MUSIC IN THIS SCENE. 

Besties, the vibes are RANCID. The music does not match the romantic scene we see Mew setting up, the lit candles, the supposed playlist he is putting on, the cuddling up to Top. The music we get underneath belongs in a horror movie. It’s suspenseful, it’s disconcerting. It is perfect. 

As soon as humanly possible Mew walks away from Top, enters a completely different room, and begins to lay his trap.

(Let it be stated for the record it was at this point where I started to think something might be up)

Top comes in to check on Mew and make sure he is alright, and as Book and Force have said, Top and Mew are competitive and poisonous for one another, and we are about to witness the perfect example of what happens with both of their propensities for control and manipulation come to a head.  Mew starts the game, initiating physical contact with Top, hugging him tight, rocking them back and forth. It is familiar, and comfortable, and there is absolutely no indication whatsoever from Mew’s body language that anything is wrong. (If you have not already, go back and watch the bar fight scene, and you will be presented with a drastically different Mew, because he is just gotten the news and he is processing his feeling and plotting his revenge, so he is a lot less capable of controlling the emotions on his face, and thus reads as detached and forlorn).

“Are you okay, Mew?” Top asks because he is at this point playing the role of devoted and concerned boyfriend extremely well (again a massive contrast to how he behaved at the bar, where he was possessive, reactive, and did not notice that anything was wrong with Mew despite being mere inches away from him). 

“I just wonder when Ray will be okay with you,” Mew responds, pulling away from Top to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want to choose.”

And what a great buy-in. Top hates Ray, Ray hates Top. Mew is perceptive and has been in the room on multiple occasions to see Top and Ray butting heads. Beyond the fact Ray went off on everyone at the bar, and it’s a relevant topic of conversation, Mew knows what he is doing bringing Ray in to his conversation with Top. 

Because Ray could have said “I’m okay”, he could have brushed the evening off, or said he wasn’t good, or bitched about Ray’s tendencies to ruin an evening with too much drinking. But he doesn’t mention any of that. He doesn’t attack Ray’s character, he doesn’t gripe about Ray’s actions. Mew explicitly brings up Ray’s feelings about Top. 

Giving Top a very good jumping off point for his own attempts at manipulation. 

“Why are you still friends with him?” Top asks. Undermining Mew’s previous line “I don’t want to choose.” Mew has literally just said that he wants to maintain his friendship with Ray and his relationship with Top, and implied that it is troubling him that the two of them cannot get along. That Ray cannot get along with Top. 

And instead of Top being sympathetic to that desire for Mew to get to keep two people he cares about in his life. Top tries to convince Mew to dump Ray altogether (which would further isolate Mew from his friends since Cheum really only seems to care about Mew’s sex life and Boston has intentionally been undermining Mew and Top’s relationship since it’s start).

This is not the first time that Top has tried to get what he wanted with just a question or suggestion. We can say all we want that LASIK was Mew’s idea, but Top suggested it first before he said something akin to “you know what, nevermind, you look cute in your nerd glasses”. He may have walked back his suggestion but it cannot be denied that he planted that seed. 

And planting a seed of doubt, of insecurity, of impatience with Ray’s behavior in to Mew’s mind is what I think Top is trying to do here. But Mew knows something Top doesn’t and where Mew may have started contemplating whether or not he actually does want to maintain a friendship with Ray, he is immune from that doubt seeping in in this case because he knows that Top is a dirty rotten liar. 

“I want to repay you,” Mew says a little bit further along in their conversation. “I don’t want you to forget about tonight.” (lmfao Mew, he definitely will not)

“It’s the birthday that I feel the most special.” and by God is Mew really laying it on thick. 

“Even though Ray ruined your night” Top can’t help but get a dig in, to remind Mew that Ray was a shitty friend on Mew’s birthday, to casually drop more evidence that Mew should pull away from his friendship with Ray. 

“Screw him. I have you by my side, there’s nothing to be afraid of” Mew is stoking Top’s ego, he’s lulling Top in to a false sense of security. Top has no idea what he is in for, he has no idea that Mew is playing games. Mew is doing such a thoroughly expert job with his performance he may even be annoying the audience, making them think that he didn’t connect the dots between Ray yelling at Top and Boston, and think that something might be wrong.

Top thanks Mew for making him like this version of himself, and to me this does make sense. There is this hollowness in the way I read Top and Mew’s entire relationship throughout the series. But I don’t doubt that some part of Top is interested in Mew. I have typically understood Mew and Top’s relationship to be an experiment from Top’s end to see what it would feel like to stop sleeping around.I think Top does genuinely enjoy at least part of his relationship with Mew, likes playing this role of doting boyfriend, but he is just playing. It is a performance. A skin he can shed the second he is out of Mew’s view.  

“Can I ask you one more gift?” Mew says, turning to face Top and without another word starts undressing him. Mew shoves Top on to the bed and starts kissing up his body (I shit you not I was shocked and literally said out loud, alone in my apartment “Damn, Book!”). This is not the first time that we have seen Mew raise the stakes of a physical encounter. From the beginning of their relationship, Mew has been entirely in control of if and when he and Top have sex. He holds on to that power, to his virginity for quite some time, but waffles in his confidence and power within the relationship by engaging in penetrative sex with Top because he is worried Top will be bored. 

This is the most intense, down and dirty level of physical intimacy we have ever seen from Top and Mew (and the same goes for Force and Book finally getting to step away from the slow and gentle sex scenes of shows past). Mew gets Top going, Mew gets Top in the zone, in the mood. Mew gets Top feeling good, moaning, before he drops the bomb. 

“I love the sound you make when you have sex” and this is where the tide begins to turn, where the audience may well and truly begin to pick up what Mew is putting down. But Top just thinks it’s hot. Top is playing along. Top wants to know what sounds he makes that Mew enjoys. This is a much different physical encounter than anything he has had from Mew before, and while Mew is once again leveraging physical intimacy to control Top, something he has been doing since their first sexual encounter. Though there is an intensity and surety to Mew’s actions here that feels markedly different than his other sexual interactions with Top where his movements were slower and less certain.  

“What sound?” Top asks, and oh boy has he just fucked himself over with this question. It is exactly the question Mew is hoping Top will ask. The perfect question for Mew’s pissed off, hurt, and dramatic ass to play the audio recording. 

And GOD DAMN TOP’S FUCKING REACTION? The fear and panic that enters his eyes, the speed and intentionality in the way Mew pushes himself off of Top.

Top’s fear and shock and awe lasts for mere seconds as he pulls himself upright at which point Force delivers one of my favorite lines in the entire exchange, “how did you get it?” 

Why is it one of my favorite? Because it acknowledges that Top knows that this audio recording exists. But it is said in passing, and asked as a question in such a way that Mew, who is about to actually let his emotions loose, might not actually realize the implications of the question. 

Because this is not Top asking “what is this?”, “where did this come from?”, “did you record me?” you know, the type of standard questions someone faced with an audio recording of them having sex might ask if they had never heard the audio recording before. But no, Top isn’t surprised to find out that he has been recorded. He is only scared and concerned about the fact that Mew got the recording from someone.

“How long ago was it?” Mew asks, and Top tries to equivocate “Mew, it was a long time ago,” as if Top thinks that he can what, brush off this audio recording? Dude. If Mew wasn’t busy trying not to slap you in the face, he would have noticed the practical admission of guilt you gave by nature of asking how he got the audio recording, you know he knows, why bother trying to lie? Mew does not let himself get convinced otherwise, and continues to press Top about whether or not he and Boston had fucked after he and Mew started dating and Top cannot look Mew in the eye until the very end of Mew’s line of questioning. And Top stays dead silent until Mew has asked him where and when he and Boston fucked, at which point he knows there is no getting out of this and he admits the truth. 

I don’t have much to say as of yet about the line Mew says “why did I have to know about this shit the day I’ve already loved you and given you everything?” mostly because I actually have a whole essay floating around in my brain that I am desperate to write for this show, but I do not have enough evidence to justify it yet, so I am waiting patiently for if the opportunity presents itself. But irrespective of that, there is an implication here that Mew held some level of possessiveness over his virginity and in having sex with Top committed to his relationship with Top. Mew is the kind of person that seems to think virginity has weight to it, and it is something to lose, something that can be lost.

Now. If Mew had stopped here and just broken up with Top, he would have won the day. But unfortunately, Mew is a human character with thoughts, feelings, and imperfections that are going to undermine his best efforts to be a diabolical schemer. (Something that I very much appreciate about this show is that every single person in the show has moments of utter genius that grant them the upper hand and a brief win. But no one is so impressive as to pull off a flawless victory or maintain their champion status for long). 

So unfortunately, we start getting insight in to Mew that we have not really had before, when he starts spiraling over Top and Boston hooking up. Mew, who has up until this point felt very secure in his inexperience with sex. And there have been signs of deeper insecurities popping up, namely that Mew had penetrative sex with Top to keep him interested in their relationship. “Why did it have to be Boston?” (who Mew called to ask for sex advice), “Couldn’t it have been anyone else?” Top looks guilty when Mew asks these questions, but that quickly changes as Mew’s spiral worsens “You guys planned this together?” Top’s head whips up to meet Mew’s eyes, he postures, he shifts his weight, he inhales a breath as if he is preparing to speak, and his face changes to a perfect picture of disagreement at the accusation. “You just wanted to mess with a virgin idiot like me?” Top actually tries to interrupt Mew’s spiral here, to calm Mew’s suspicions of malice against him. 

It is at this point Mew has his Boss Ass Bitch card revoked on the grounds of undermining the absolutely devastating and badass power play he just flawlessly pulled off by creating this fantasy in his head about big bad evil Top and Boston laughing at his inexperience. Especially because (and this is not to blame Mew at all) part of what drove Top to fuck Boston was Mew’s competitive nature and his desire to prove Top really wanted a relationship with him by withholding sex for an extremely long time. It was not Mew’s inexperience, but rather his virtue signaling and tight hold on having his first time that resulted in Boston’s successful attempt at convincing Top that Mew was lying to him about being a virgin. 

“Mew, you made that all up in your head, it’s nothing like that,”

“Well, what am I supposed to think when I can’t trust any word you say?” Mew turns away, only to be quickly embraced by Top. Both of them quiet, upset, and the episode ends with the future of their relationship uncertain.

[spiltscribbles]

Miss you and your marvelous writing!!!! Just a prompt if you’re up to it 😊 exes wolfstar staying friends but sirius gets into a new relationship and he brings his new boo to somewhere he took remus and remus gets sad 😭 but they get back together eventually

Notes: OMFG BABEY! this is so SO beyond precious of you! i adore you to bits! thank you for the sweetness and for this scrumptious angst🥺🥺 i really hope you like it😭😘😘💜

.-

SEND ME A PROMPT  |  A Reblog means SO SO much! I ADORE YOU💜💜

.-

“He can just be so… So” James pauses right then, takes off his cap with the hand that’s still clutching his baseball bat, and ruffles his hair with the other.

“Un-opinionated,” Remus offers half heartedly as they turn the block to the small coffee shop nearest school, both of them freshly showered after the required morning workouts for Tuesday and Thursdays. It’s the first semester in which Remus has actually joined in on the seven minute track, considering the fact that even despite their crazy contradictory schedules with all the sports and extra curriculars they each had, Sirius always made it a point to buy their ice coffees and drop it off to Remus, sometimes leaving them a quarter of an hour late for first period, or as just a quick drop and dash if one of them had an exam. 

It was sweet, considerate. It was Sirius showing how much he cared because he’s never been one for words, even if he would frequently print off the little texts Remus would send him about how Sirius made him feel, and hang it up on the wall besides his bed, along with photos of them and Remus by himself and a few of their other friends too.

But yeah… None of that is really a thing anymore, not the coffees or the texts or the promises of being one another’s always. Not after calling it quits in early January because they knew by August they’d be working with thousands of miles between them and a three hour difference on top of that. It just wouldn’t have been feasible in the long run, and sure— Remus was the one to broach the topic and he knows that Sirius was hesitant about the logical side of it, but sometimes Remus wishes Sirius had fought harder, had argued louder, had wanted Remus more. But that’s a ridiculous expectation, and he had only admitted as much to Lily. And at the end of the day, it was the right choice, because it’s only early May now, and Remus can’t imagine how sick he’ll feel once catching his flight to Berkeley, and they’re steadfastly back in the best friends category of things. He can’t fathom how it would’ve been if they spent all these months and the ones after being together in all those intimate ways, knowing that they’ll be so far apart soon enough.

It was the right decision for the both of them and their friendship.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that,” James says, bringing Remus out of his gloomy contemplations while opening the glass door to Three Broomsticks, sporting a thin smile that he always has on when he’s trying to be kind even when he’s irritated as all get out. 

Remus snorts at him, elbow checking his side as he walks past. “Well he’s sharing that dorm with you and Sirius in New Haven, so I guess you’ve got that to look forwards to.”

James’s face pulls into a grimace and their typical barista nods their way, already receiving their orders through the app and sparing them having to wait in the queue. “Maybe Pete’ll grow his own personality in university, yeah?”

“Sure Prongsie,” Remus says, noncommittal as he checks his phone and lies against the windowpane, already exhausted by the morning. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure Sirius is about to blow his lid any day now.”

“It’s going to be funny as fuck, and you won’t even be there to see the debris,” James counters, sounding pleasant enough even though Remus knows that he’s nearly as pissed off as Sirius is about the decision for him to go back to his home state for undergrad. 

“You’ll send pictures though.”

“Of course Moony my old friend,” James jokes, tossing him a wink as they straighten once spotting their coffees being rung up. But as Remus takes a step forwards, he notices that a familiarly tan pair of hands are reaching for them, and when Remus looks up he feels like an idiot for not noticing him sooner. Because there Sirius is, dashing as ever in their school’s maroon blazer and tan pants, and his hair is windblown and shining as it falls midway of the nape of his neck. But Remus doesn’t really have the chance to appreciate just how damn good looking his ex-boyfriend is, rather, he’s more distracted by how Sirius doesn’t even notice him or James as he pivots around and hands over the second cup to a beaming Gideon Prewett. Their heads incline while they exchange a few words that are absolutely impossible to pick up in the crowded cafe before they bump their shoulders together and walk out the opposite door.

And it feels like nothing else watching that exchange— like their was a hammer and pick chipping away at his stupid, weeping heart.

“I think they’re just doing a project together,” James says lowly in Remus’s ear, clapping him on the back in reassurance, and Remus loves him, but he’s not in the mood for false platitudes, feels like there is a ugly, burning fire festering deep in his stomach and making Remus want to hurl all over the wooden floors.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies instead, mild as he discretely picks up his phone again and opens up to the last conversation he had this morning.

R: need intel 

L: Say more sexy things to me, lover 

R: sirius and Gideon

R: what’s going on there

L: I’ll take a look, dw

Buoyed by Lily’s scary levels of detective skills, Remus returns his phone to his satchel and signals James to follow him to pick up their actual drinks. “C’mon, Flitwick hates it when we’re late.”

.-

“Do you want the good news first, or the bad.” Lily asks Remus later that morning during their shared free period, dropping her bag on the tabletop that they typically commandeer towards the back of Hogwarts’s library, nearest the windows and tucked away by the shelves.

“Is there actually any good news? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better.” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he shuts his history book and tosses it to the side.

“Well your hair looks especially nice today,” she offers with a small smile, sitting besides him and ruffling his curls.

“Thanks, I suppose. But I’d rather just get to it. And don’t sigh at me like that! All long suffering and all.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily gathers her hair into a high pony before turning to Remus fully. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than just about anyone. You know that, right?” Lily asks him, stiff stance relaxing when he nods in turn. “Then understand that I’m saying this from a place of love, but you don’t get to be mad at him, okay. You’re the one who called it off Re, you’re the one who wanted you guys to go back to being friends to avoid that messiness in August. And you know I respect the decision, but also it wasn’t the only one to be had. I mean look at James and I—“

“You’re going to Columbia Lils,” Remus bristles, hates how defensive he’s getting all of a sudden. “That train ride is like two hours and some change at the very most. It’s not the same.”

“You guys could’ve made it work,” she insists, green eyes blazing in the dim light. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re in love with him— Like ass backwards in love. You can’t just cut that off like it’s nothing, damn it, Remus.”

He can feel his own ears reddening and Remus hates it, hates how today had started off so innocuous and now it’s an absolute shit show. Remus hates that Lily is always correct about everything, and hates how Sirius probably is regretting telling Remus he still fully intends to ask him out to prom, and hates how much he loves him— how whenever he looks at Sirius it’s just a deluge of wanting and adoring and regretting and needing to feel his lips against Sirius’s own again like a drug, how he’ll never forget how he tasted like coffee beans and cigarette smoke and the strawberries he ate every morning besides his breakfast. Remus hates it all and he can’t figure out how not to feel like suddenly everything is slipping out of his hands like sand drifting through his fingers.

“He’s probably not that crazy over me anymore considering he’s getting Gideon Prewett coffees now, so maybe it’s the right decision after all.” Is what Remus decides to tell Lily instead of that whirlwind of clashing feelings.

“Oh Christ,” Lily huffs, dropping her head back like she’s asking for strength from the heavens above. “Look, Dorcas tells me that they’ve only been out twice. And Marlene says that it’s nothing intense. Just a movie and then he went to go watch his nephew’s little league game.”

“Oh,” Remus intones, because, no. No he will not start crying like this is some fucking Nicholas Sparks novel, and he’s the wayward lead making all the worst decisions. He’s not going to cry damn it!

He is not a bird, and this is suppose to be happening, and none of this has any real consequence at the end of the day. He and Sirius broke up, and Sirius can go out with whoever he pleases— even if it’s good looking, ginger athletes.

Remus is fine.

“Remus,” Lily gently consoles, lacing her fingers into his own that’s resting on his lap, and squeezing for good measure. “Benjy told Mary, who told me during Calc that Gideon doesn’t expect anything. Sirius told him he’s not looking for anything long term.”

“That’s dumb,” Remus retorts, trying to hold everything in so that Lily doesn’t give him that concerned, doe eyed face of hers, like when he’s spent a week living off of protein bars and double shot espressos preparing for finals. “Gideon’s great, and there on the soccer team together, they would be perfect.”

“Remus, stop.”

“And he’s going to Dartmouth, so he’ll be super close for like weekend excursions and all of that.”

“Remus!”

“The more I think about it, Lils, the more it makes sense. They just fit.”

“Sure, those are all nice attributes,” Lily says, peering up at him disappointedly. “But he’s not you.”

Like a legion of angels singing in the distance, the bell begins to shrill for next period and Remus is spared from giving that statement any mind.

.-

He spends the rest of the week acting as if he hadn’t even seen Sirius that morning whenever around him, and internally analyzing each and every exchange between them, and comparing to them to when he sees Sirius chatting with Gideon. And it’s not fun to say the least. It’s like a flashback to when he was trying to hide his crush on Sirius back in Freshman and most of sophomore year, but somehow worse. It’s worse because Remus had him, had Sirius in all the ways someone could ever want an other. He had Sirius’s languid morning kisses, and Sirius’s bark like laughter. Remus had Sirius being nervous the first time Lyall came for his typical Christmas visit, and Sirius had to try and impress him along with Remus’s mom as more than just the friend he hung around with at school. Remus had Sirius’s gruff voice when they were in bed and getting tangled into one another, and Sirius’s dopey looks in the middle of class when he’d be gazing over at Remus instead of the board. And if Remus is being honest, he knows he still has all those things, but it’s suddenly and searingly clear that some time— sooner rather than later— they’ll all leave, abruptly disappearing and shattering Remus’s world in their wake. Because eventually all of those different facets of Sirius’s won’t be Remus’s anymore— they’ll be Gideon’s or some other boy he meets in New Haven. And Remus can’t even be upset at it, he doesn’t have a claim to any of Sirius anymore, doesn’t get to call any part of him his.

And it’s probably the worst Remus has felt since that first night after their break up, because he’s eating every moment he has with Sirius like he’s famished and Sirius is the last meal he’ll ever know. He wants to memorize every part of him before he can’t have any of it. He wants to unravel every layer of Sirius, and kiss it for the final time, and it’s like saying goodbye a thousand times over, strangling his heart and splintering something desperate deep inside of him.

Like now.

It’s edging on midnight, and they drove up to the lake front near their suburb, with Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap and his long, muscled body lying against the tattered blanket beneath them. And his eyes are fluttered shut while the speaker they brought croons out the indie playlist they like most from Spotify.

And Remus can’t help but feel like this is one of their last nights like this, alone and quiet and together without any other specter of some other partner. So he watches him, watches the moonlight pacing over his nose and the high bones of his cheeks and across Sirius’s eyelids too. Remus watches his ink  like lashes kissing his skin, and wants to touch the divot of his cupids bow like so many times before while his other hand cards through Sirius’s hair. 

And Remus lets himself want Sirius and wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting, craving, loving him.

“I can hear you thinking Moons,” Sirius says, fluttering his eyes open and crunching up before Remus can even respond. “What’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I’m fine.” Remus all but sputters, folding his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling somehow vulnerable in blistering ways. “Nothing is going on.”

“Pff,” Sirius gives him a pointed look, settles down so that they’re side by side and tries to get Remus to look at him head on. “You’ve been strange all week, Moony.” 

“That’s not—“

“And then tonight, you didn’t even tease your ma when she was telling us about that patient who puked all over her shoes.”

“Just tired is all.”

“But had enough energy to smoke half the joint I brought.” Sirius says with a snort, looking frustrated again when Remus didn’t even flinch a smile at the counter. “Remus, talk to me.”

“It’s fine Sirius,” Remus sighs, suddenly remembers how exhausting all their arguments were in the past. How Sirius tries getting him to speak everything in his mind, as if Remus could even put them into words. 

“Okay, then tell me why you rejected my offer to go to that Frank Ocean concert. You’re obsessed with him.”

“’S in July,” Remus reminds him lightly, focusses on the way they can see the North star glimmering against the horizon instead.

“And, so?” Sirius asks, sounding more than a bit scathing. “You’re not leaving for another month after that, you trying to cut me off completely by the summer or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

“Sirius, just leave well enough alone. Holy shit.”

“I can leave it alone if you can actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Sirius snaps, standing up now, probably because he always likes using his height advantage on most people whenever he gets all pissy.

“You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?” Remus snarls at him, following suit and dipping his head back just slightly so that they’re eye to eye. “Not everything is on your schedule, you know that.”

“My schedule!” Sirius’s brows jump to his hairline, and he breaks into that manic laughter that springs up only when he’s so angry he can’t put his thoughts together. “I’m trying to do as much shit with you as possible before you leave, because for some stupid fucking reason I’m going to miss you when your across the fucking country! But yeah, whatever. If you’re actually just sick of me and my presence or what the fuck else, you can just—“

“I would’ve assumed you wanted to go with Gideon,” Remus blurts out, simply unable to hold it back any more, unable to pretend like he’s not suffering a thousand fresh paper cuts every time he even glances Sirius’s way these days. He can’t do this, can’t pretend to just be friends when they were— when they are— so much more than that. “To the concert I mean. I just assumed—“

“No,” Sirius says, seething as he storms up to Remus— close enough that the tips of their noses brush up against each other. 

“No? Excuse me?”

“No Remus you don’t get to do this!” Sirius repeats, voice going frayed at the edges as their glances level. “You don’t get to pretend as if I want anyone more than I want— than I’ve always wanted you. And you don’t get to float around for the rest of your life pretending as if this’ll ever change for me. As if you can’t hit me up in fifteen years when I’m married with kids, and ask to get back together, and think  that I wouldn’t drop it all for you.”

Remus’s heart begins to thud, loud and painful against his ribcage, and his lungs feel like they might collapse the instant Remus let’s the tears swimming in his eyes sprinkle out. “Sirius, I ca—“

“I’ve been in love with you since before we were suppose to mean what that meant, damn it, Remus! And you’re the one who called it off!”

“It was the right decision.” Remus croaks out, plunging his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, doesn’t want Sirius to see the way they’re shaking.

“”For you. The right decision for you.” Sirius presses, his gray eyes dark underneath the stars. “And you know I’d do anything you wanted of me, but you don’t get to be mad at the ways I cope. And you sure as fuck don’t get to be jealous of fucking Gideon Prewett, as if he can hold a match to you.”

“Oh.” Is all Remus can gather to say, peering back down at his shoes and pressing together his lips, feels the most lost he ever has while around Sirius. “I love you too, you know that. You know I love you so much that it hurts sometimes— That was never the problem.”

Sirius makes a strangled sound deep in his throat, and the next second, Remus can’t feel the warmth of his body besides him because Sirius is darting over to the cusp of the lake and kicking at a rock. “Fuck, Remus. You can’t just say that, all right! You can’t because none of this is fair, or okay. And I fucking hate it and I hate this and—“

“Maybe we can try,” Remus says, quiet but unshaken. And he watches as Sirius slowly turns back around, face scrunched up in utter confusion, but eyes glittering with something like hope. “I love you Sirius, and you love me. And Lily’s right, fucking hell she’s so right. I can’t just turn it off, okay. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t be around you and not want every part of you. But I also can’t let myself stay away from you. So let’s try, and it’s probably a stupid difficult decision, and we’re going to be frustrated and we’re going to miss one another but I know there’s going to be no one I want more and I think you migh— Oof.”

Remus can’t continue rattling off any of the reasons why they should get back together, because Sirius is somehow magically popping up in front of him— his large hands cupping against Remus’s jawline and his thin lips crashing against him, and Remus can only wrap his arms around Sirius’s torso and give him back all he’s pushing forwards.

And it might’ve been a minute or an hour that past, but Sirius is pulling back with a face that looks lighter in ways Remus hasn’t seen on him since the breakup all those months ago. “I’d literally agree to anything if it means we can stay together, Moony. Absolutely anything.”

Remus feels the strain against the apples of his cheeks as he beams at him at the sound of the oath. “Yeah, me too Padfoot. Always and forever, it’s you.”

.-

My Other Wolfstar FIC💜

[lunarmessenger]

May I request headcanons for the RFA + V & Saeran as yanderes? Also, I feel like your work is really underrated, and I wanted you to know that I love you and your writing so much! I hope you have a wonderful day/night :)

YANDERE RFA, V + SAERAN

warnings: mentions of violence and death.

of course you can sweetie! thank u for feeding my yandere obsession mMF YES. Oh my gosh thank you???? I’m so glad that you enjoy my writing!!! T_T that means so so much to me, and I hope you’re enjoying a beautiful day/night as well! this ended up being a little long sorry HAHAHA - luna xx

Zen

• You were both at a local tavern together with the rest of the RFA to celebrate another successful performance of his

• People who were fans of his came up every now and then asking for pictures and autographs and of course you didn’t mind

• Both of you actually enjoyed when his fans would come up because it showed his constant growth and that he was getting closer to his dream every day

• But with his popularity rising, so was yours

• You didn’t have fans necessarily, just admirers that thought you were rather pretty

• One of those admirers happened to be at the tavern and they approached you, a slight tint of red on their cheeks

• “Hello! I really don’t mean to interrupt but, I just wanted to say that I think you’re amazing with all of the help that you do with those amazing parties.”

• You were touched, and while you thanked them while giving them a brief hug you hadn’t noticed that Zen’s mood darkened instantly.

• They had long walked away from you both, and after about an hour Zen gave you a kiss to your forehead while smiling that same sweet smile

• “I’m going to go get some air for a moment, princess.”

• “Are you okay, Zen?”

• “Oh of course, I just wanted to go have a smoke.”

• You disapproved but allowed it anyway, giving him a peck on the lips as he walked away

• You had no idea that he’d singled out that admirer of yours, luring them outside into the alleyway

• He was on them, arm pressed against their neck in the shadows as he pinned them to the wall, eyes dark with jealousy as he growled at them

• “Who gave you the right to talk to MC, hm? Looks like you need to learn a few things...”

• When he came back inside you noticed that his knuckles were slightly bruised, but he still had that same smile that you’d always felt safe with

• “You’re okay...right Zen?”

• “Of course, princess. Nothing to worry about.”

Yoosung

• The epitome of a yandere

• You had decided to drop by at his college to bring him some home made lunch since he’d been a little stressed

• He was sitting with his study group outside on the grass, all of them furiously writing down their notes with their books open

• “Yoosung~ I brought you some stew! You’ve been working so hard.”

• His face instantly lights up as you stroll up, holding out his lunch as you kneel down next to him

• “MC! This is so sweet! Thank you so much!” You were met with endless quick kisses to your face, earning groans and playful complaints from his group

• You kissed the top of his head then walked away, and as soon as you were out of sight his friends just lay it on him

• “Honestly though Yoosung, I’m super jealous. MC is very caring, I wish I had someone like them.”

• yandere mode activated

• He asked that specific friend to help him with a certain subject for just another hour while everyone else packed up

• While they were walking to their classroom together to put away their books Yoosung suddenly grabbed them by the neck and dragged them into an empty classroom

• “You think that you can talk about MC that way? Understand that they’re mine, and don’t you ever forget it.”

• He choked them until their eyes rolled into the back of their head, only letting go when they’d stopped struggling so much

• They were left there, passed out on the ground while Yoosung walked away and went home

• There you were waiting for him, dinner already set out on the table as you grinned at his entrance

• “Honey you’re back!” He smiled, dropping his book bag as he opened his arms for you

• “My precious MC.”

Jaehee

• She was always rather protective of you

• Working at C&R showed her both the good and bad sides of people, especially those involved with business

• So when you’d both gotten to finally have that coffee shop together she’d noticed that the owner of the entire strip was getting a little...too comfortable with you

• They had even mentioned to Jaehee now and then how fun it would be for all of you to “hang out” and that was enough to get them on her blacklist

• You were oblivious of course and that was okay because she was going to take care of it

• “MC, would you mind going shopping for some supplies for the shop? I forgot to grab a couple of things, I’ll meet with the landlord myself to discuss any changes of rent, so don’t worry.”

• Of course you didn’t mind, but you were a little discouraged because it would take you at least an hour to get everything that was on the list she’d handed you

• And, that’s what she was planning on obviously

• She drove to the leasing office after making an appointment with the owner a couple of weeks prior, long hair shaping her face and chest as she purposely tugged down her shirt a little more

• Within minutes the owner was interested, though was still making comments about you and how “sweet and innocent” you were, almost as if describing a toy

• That was enough to make Jaehee grab them by the shoulder and toss them to the ground, hand pressing hard into their chest as they gasped for air, eyes empty as she stared them down

• “MC is not a toy, and you shall treat them with proper respect. They are my partner, and are not open to being with anybody else. Is that understood?”

• The owner was terrified, and just to make sure she didn’t come to them again offered to have you both not pay the rent for the rest of the lease until it was renewed

• “Jaehee! I don’t know how, but we suddenly have enough money to take that trip you wanted to go on! I guess profits have been really great this year!”

• She only smiled, coming up to you from behind and wrapping her arms around you into a warm, yet tight hug

• “It’s all because of you, MC. Without you I would still be lost. Never forget that I love you, and I would do anything to make you happy.”

Jumin

• Also another yandere type man

• He’d invited you along on a business trip in Dubai, and of course you were excited to go just because you were going to be with him

• After a meeting he’d offered to take you to the beach and you were beyond excited, leaving him in the sand as you ran for the ocean

• He watched fondly as you stripped off your bathing suit cover and waded in the water

• He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life, and he was thoroughly proud of himself for deciding to take you along with him during a trip

• That is until you were walking back up to the cabana he was under, his brows furrowing as he noticed that you were crossing your arms over your body

• “MC? Is everything alright?”

• You slowly shook your head, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body as you sat down on his lap and leaned against his chest

• “I just felt a bit uncomfortable...when you’re done with that glass of wine, can we go back to our hotel?”

• It was then that he looked up in the direction you were walking from, a couple of men staring at you as they chuckled and laughed at themselves while making inappropriate gestures

• He immediately grabbed your shoulders, gently pushing you away so  you could meet his eyes

• “Did they touch you, MC? At all?”

• You shook your head, but he knew that they came pretty close to it from how violently you were shaking just from thinking about it

• While you were resting in his lap he brought up his cell phone, texting the head of his body guards a couple of orders before placing his sunglasses up on his head to look those men in the eye

• Within minutes those two men had been discreetly grabbed and walked off the beach, their eyes full of fear while Jumin smirked as they walked away

• Later that night after you’d fallen asleep in the hotel room he slipped out of the room, adjusting the tie as he took the elevator down to the basement with his escorts

• He was led to a private room, those two men from the beach sitting on chairs in a dimly lit room, faces contorted in fear as Jumin emerged from the shadows

• He gave a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he rolled up the sleeves of his suit, leaning in close as he clicked his tongue

• “You gentlemen have no idea who you’ve messed with. You’ll never see the light of day again.”

• By the time he was back up in the bedroom it was day light, his clothes a bit rough but not enough for you to notice due to the groggy feeling you had from sleep

• “Jumin? Where did you go, honey?”

• “Just an emergency meeting, kitten. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

• You hadn’t even noticed the slight hint of blood on the back of his neck...

707

• He’d noticed that you were feeling a bit off for the last couple of weeks, and he’d finally decided to address it with you

• That’s when you told him that you were dealing with your ex partner, who’d recently began to message you non-stop

• The breakup had been extremely messy, and now they were asking for you back

• His eyes clouded over as he asked you to see your phone, and of course you obliged

• He was happy to see that you’d mentioned endlessly that you were with somebody else, going so far as to send a picture of you and Saeyoung so that they would get the hint

• “Can you just block them, Saeyoung? I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

• He beamed at you, bringing you in for a soft kiss as he hugged you close

• “Of course. Anything for you, MC.”

• And he blocked them of course at your request; but he also decided to take a step further

• He’d found the location of your ex, slipping out in the middle of the night while you were fast asleep

• Bringing Vanderwood with him stating that it was a mission from the agency, he had reached your ex within a few hours, breaking in quietly

• “Why are we really here, Luciel?”

• “Shut up Vanderwood. We’re here to get rid of filth.”

• Your ex slowly woke up to see Saeyoung standing over them, eyes wild as he leaned in close and let out an unhinged giggle

• “You should have left MC alone when you had the chance.”

• Within moments Saeyoung had grabbed them and dragged them out of bed

• He grabbed their head and twisted quickly, a horrifying snap resounding through the quiet bedroom

• “Luciel are you...Luciel?”

• Vanderwood looked shocked at how quickly he hadn’t hesitated, Saeyoung standing over their lifeless body as he looked at his long time partner in crime

• “You do not speak a word of this to MC. Do you understand?”

• Vanderwood agreed without question, and with that the two men drove home in silence

• When you’d awoken Saeyoung was in bed with you, shirt off as he slowly ran his fingers up and down your arms

• “Good morning, Saeyoung. I haven’t heard from my ex for the past few hours; thank you for blocking him.”

• He kissed you softly, running his hands through your hair

• “They won’t bother you anymore, MC. Don’t worry.”

• He smiled.

V

• The two of you had gone to a gallery where he was showcasing his work, the area extremely crowded since he never hosted such events for himself

• His arm was around you all night, except for a brief moment when you’d separated to go use the restroom

• On your way back you were bombarded by reporters, asking all sorts of personal questions while you tried to decline

• V kept his life private for a reason, and while it was very much public information that you two were together, both of you agreed that the public didn’t need to know every single detail about you

• That’s why when he’d noticed the commotion he was immediately engulfed with rage, shoving through the crowd as you tried to protect your eyes from the endless flashes from the cameras

• “Please everybody, back off! Give them some room!”

• He almost snarled, brows furrowed as he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around you to hide your face

• One particular reporter happened to trip over someone’s feet, shoving you even further into V as you yelped from the contact

• All it took was for V to look at them, and instantly they stumbled backwards, promising that they never purposely tried to hurt you

• Later that day when you’d decided to visit Jaehee to talk about what happened, he took it upon himself to contact that reporter offering an exclusive interview

• The address that the reporter found themselves in was enough to make them regret taking up the offer, waiting outside of an abandoned building

• Before they knew it they were knocked unconscious, V holding an old rusted pipe as he tossed it aside and grabbed the reporter

• He dragged them inside, tossing them into a deep hole that was filled with old rusted metal pieces

• Some were jagged enough that they’d gone right through the reporters limbs and chest, puddles of blood pooling around the now lifeless body as V wiped his nose

• “That will teach you to touch my darling MC.”

• He picked you up from Jaehee’s after taking a shower at home, smiling at you from inside the car as you slid into the passenger seat.

• “Feeling better darling?”

• You nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder as you sighed with a small smile

• “I love you V. Thank you for understanding that I had to get away for a bit.”

• He returned your smile with a slight chuckle

• “I love you too, darling. Glad I could make you feel better.”

Saeran

• He had taken you on a date at the local botanical gardens, the two of you holding hands while he explained every type of flower’s meaning

• It was the perfect day, the sun shining on the two of you as you lazily strolled around

• He thought that absolutely nothing could ruin it

• That is, until one of the employees accidentally bumped into you while holding a few roses, one of the stems brushing against your arms

• “Ouch!”

• You’d cried out, a couple of thorns from the stems sticking out of your skin as you hissed and reached to pluck them out

• “Darling! Oh darling, are you alright?”

• Saeran was immediately fussing over you, and while you were distracted tending to your small scratches the employee immediately looked down in shame and panic

• “I am so so sorry! It was an accident!”

• When you weren’t looking Saeran glared daggers at the employee, taking notice of their name as he told them to leave you two alone

• “Are you sure you’re okay, MC?”

• You looked up with a small smile, shrugging your shoulders as you grabbed his hand

• “I’m fine, Saeran. Oh, did that employee leave already? I wanted to tell them that I was okay...”

• After so much reassurance you both continued on with your day at the garden

• Saeran mused that he had to use the restroom so you promised to wait at one of the benches under the shaded trees in the garden

• While you thought that he was on his way towards the employee’s only sections, having snatched a hat from one of the employees when they weren’t looking and making his way towards the break area

• There he’d found the employee that had bumped into you, standing at their locker; alone.

• He was behind them in minutes, shoving them into the lockers and pressing hard as he let out a deep menacing giggle

• “Found you.”

• He was back to you within twenty minutes; asking that you two finish the day with some ice cream before going home

• Of course you didn’t object, and while you were riding in the car you had heard a slight bump in the back

• “What was that Saeran?”

• “I’m not sure, MC. Let me check and see if something might have fell in the trunk.”

• He pulled over, leaving the stereo on as he got out of the car and opened the trunk

• When he was sure that you weren’t looking he leaned in close, the employee looking up at him with tears in their eyes and duct tape over their mouth

• They were bound by utility wires, squirming in fear as Saeran grabbed the tire iron and grinned down at them

• “Didn’t I say to keep quiet? We’re almost home.”

• With one hard swing the employee was unconscious, Saeran tossing the iron back into the trunk and slamming it closed

• “What was it, Saeran?”

• “Oh, nothing my princess, the spare tire just came loose. Let’s go home, darling.”

[harrysbbby]

Super Rich Kids

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe and Y/N are young and in love, not to mention filthy rich. But does money really buy happiness? Based on Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean

Words: 3k

Warnings: drug use, swearing, mentions of su*cide so please be mindful if this would be triggering. a whole lot of angst

Start my day up on the roof

There's nothing like this type of view

Point the clicker at the tube

I prefer expensive news

Rafe Cameron was an anomaly. Too spoilt to hang with the Pogues, too much of a delinquent to fit in with the Kooks. But he made do.

One of his favourite things was watching the sunrise from the roof next to his room’s large bay window. It centred him, calmed him. His mind was constantly racing, so seeing the orange glow rise over the trees, was nothing short of relaxing.

He would usually do this while scrolling through his phone, checking Instagram, seeing what party had happened the night before across Figure Eight. Fox News would send him updates, you know, rich people paying rich people to tell middle class people to blame poor people. And he supposed he fed into that idea, but as the sun hit his eyes, making him squint, he didn’t think further into it.

New car, new girl

New ice, new glass

New watch, good times babe

It's good times, yeah

Wind blew through your hair as you drove along the highway. You laughed raising your hands above the open windscreen, feeling the air on your fingertips. You could feel the diamond ring wobble on your finger, pulling your hands down to admire it. It matched your icy diamond bracelet, courtesy of your new boyfriend.

Rafe leant over placing a hand on your thigh, the cold feeling of his Rolex catching your attention. You could see your reflection in his glasses as you smiled at him. You leant over, placing a kiss on his cheek, before throwing your head back, whooping into the open air.

She wash my back three times a day

This shower head feels so amazing

We'll both be high, the help don't stare

They just walk by, they must don't care

The steam of the shower blended in the air with the smoke of weed, creating a damp leafy smell. Your soapy hands ran over his skin, washing off the dried saltwater. You grabbed the shampoo, foaming it up in your hands before reaching up to run it through his hair. He held your waist, securing your stance against him as you washed the salt and sand and seaweed from his hair.

He leant his head back, letting the water run over his head. He could feel your lips on his neck. He let out a throaty groan, gripping your bare ass. You giggled into his neck, hand running through his hair, ridding him of the rest of the shampoo.

He felt euphoric.

The two of you were giggling uncontrollably as you exited the shower, leaving puddles along the lavish floors of the main bathroom. You were wrapped poorly in the white fluffy towels, when you heard the vacuum cleaner whir from down the hall.

“Oh shit, the maid is here,” you cursed. Rafe’s bloodshot eyes lit up as hushed chuckles escaped his mouth. You tried to shush him, but your laughter was louder than his.

You made a run for it, sprinting down the hall, leaving drops of water behind. You slinked past the maid in the open living room upstairs. She didn’t even flinch as your white-towel clad bodies raucously giggled all the way to your room.  She had seen similar scenes a hundred times through. She’d found the bottles of alcohol hidden in your room, or your stash of weed. She needed the money, she needed employment from your family, she didn’t care what you did. You and Rafe collapsed onto your bed, still giggling out of your minds.

A million one, a million two

A hundred more will never do

Rafe went home that night. As he entered the house, he heard his dad summon him to the kitchen.

“Hey son,” he greeted him, not looking up from his paper, “I transferred some more money into your account today, saw you made some pretty decent purchases.”

“Yeah,” Rafe cleared his throat, “they’re for my, uh, new girlfriend. You always told me how to treat a girl right, Dad. I really think you’d like her.”

“That’s lovely,” Ward eyes never wandered from the page he was intently staring at. Rafe’s shoulders hunched as he made his way upstairs, unsure his dad even registered his retreating footsteps.

He took out his phone, opening up his banking app, surveying the hefty total. His heart didn’t pick up like it used to when he saw the number rise. He felt empty and unloved, but as your name appeared in a notification at the top of his screen, he thought, maybe, he would have a chance of filling that void.

Too many bottles of this wine we can't pronounce

Too many bowls of that green, no Lucky Charms

“I never understood what this is called,” your words slurred as you held the bottle up to your eyes, squinting as your hazy eyes struggled to focus.

“Who gives a shit! It tastes good either way,” Rafe leant forward, snatching the bottle from your hands, taking a large swig. You drunkenly laughed before pulling him into a kiss.

Music blared as the party pumped around you. Topper, who was sitting on the other side of Rafe, rolled his eyes.

“It’s ‘mow-ey’ if you’re show-ey and Mo-et if you know-it,” he said taking the bottle from Rafe’s hand, pouring the bubbly liquid into two flutes and passing them back to you and Rafe, “so please, be classy.”

You immediately downed the drink in one go, tipping your head back as you went.

“Or,” one of Rafe’s other friends drawled, reaching into his back pocket, “we could do some of this.”

You eyed the bag of leafy green substance. You held onto Rafe’s bicep, as he grabbed the bag from his friend’s fingers.

You were slouched on the couch, Rafe lazily slung over your middle as you stoked his hair.

“Do you ever wish we had a normal childhood?”

Your high took away your inhibitions, your mouth moving before your brain could stop it. Rafe swivelled in his spot below you, glancing up at your face. He thought about what he had the other night: the void in his chest, the feeling of being unloved, but the feeling of doing whatever the hell you wanted when you wanted was so freeing, but was it freeing enough? He answered honestly.

“I…I don’t know.”

The maids come around too much

Parents ain't around enough

Too many joy rides in daddy's Jaguar

“Why is your house always being cleaned? How does it even have enough time to get dirty again?”

You laughed at Rafe’s question as you led him into the garage.

“You know my mother, she’s a germaphobe. One speck of dust and she brings the cleaning day forward a half a week!”

You opened the door to the garage, smiling as Rafe’s jaw dropped. He inspected the glistening gold, pristinely kept Jag.

“Now, my parents are out of town, which is the only reason I’m letting you do this,” you pointed your finger at him, before tossing him the keys. As he ran past you to the car, he planted a kiss on your cheek, swinging open the driver’s side door, “Please be so careful, my Dad will kill me if we do anything happens to it.”

You joined him in the car, smiling as he delicately ran his hands over the interior, little ‘oh my God’s escaping his lips. He placed the key in the ignition, hearing the car turn on, allowing an appreciative moan to escape his lips.

“Let’s take this baby for a spin!”

Too many white lies and white lines

Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends

Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends

You walked inside the party, Rafe’s friends immediately ushering him away from you.

“Look, what I’ve got.”

Rafe’s eyes train in on the white powdery substance in the small plastic bag. He gulped. He’d drunk and done drugs before, sure. But cocaine was different. Although its white colour glistened against the glass of the table, its darkness was encompassing.

“Babe! Where are you?”

Rafe heard you call his name. He hushed the boys around him.

“Later, later.”

He ran up the stairs, finding you and spinning you around, capturing your lips in a kiss. It caught you off guard, but you melted into it.

You hummed as he released you before capturing the sight over his shoulder.

“Ew gross. Cocaine is disgusting. Makes people so violent. Promise me you won’t become like them,” you caressed Rafe’s face nodded your head towards the guys behind him.

“Yeah of course. I would never,” he nodded, allowing you to drag him away, casting one final look at the white powdered table as you went.

It was hours later, and you still couldn’t find Rafe.  He left you at the beer pong table to go to the bathroom, but had never returned. You weaved your way through the party, before his blue polo caught your eye. He was hunched over a table, a group of rowdy, aggressive boys surrounding him, one hand up to nose. You stomped over to where he was faced away from you, tapping his shoulder harshly.

He rose, turning his head, catching sight of you. He stood to his feet quickly, hastily wiping the white under his nose.

“Y/N, I—” he started, but your raised hand cut him off.

“No Rafe, I’m just… so disappointed, I really didn’t think this was you.” He looked like a scorned puppy, eyes wide and lip pouted. Problem was, he was meant to be your ride tonight. All your things, including your car, at his house. But very obviously he could not drive. You crossed your arms over your chest, “Give me your keys. I’m leaving. I don’t care if you come or not.”

He quickly fished into his pocket, handing you the keys as you continued to glare at him. You stalked away. He felt one of the boys hands come to grasp his shoulder as another laughed.

“Bro, your Mrs is mad!”

“She’s gonna give you the best angry sex—"

“Just, shut up!” Rafe snapped angrily. The rage burning inside of him was like nothing he had ever felt before. The heat rose, as if steam emitted from his years, his skin felt like it was on fire. He shrugged the guy’s hand off his shoulder, jogging to catch you before you left.

Real love, I'm searching for a real love

Oh, real love, I'm searching for a real love

Oh, real love

You and Rafe had just exited the Golf Club, walking hand in hand towards his car. It was your 6 month anniversary. You celebrated with an amazing meal, and Rafe even surprised you with an amazing new dress and shoes for the evening. You were super impressed he had managed to pick it out, but understood more when he said he had gotten Sarah’s help. Regardless, it flattered you, as he had clearly been paying attention as the dress was the same one you had eyed off shopping together just weeks previous.

The chilly night air hit your skin causing you to shiver. Rafe let go of your hand, shrugging off his suit jacket, before wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you smiled. You reached his car, leaning against the passenger side door as Rafe held both your hands, “I had a really great time tonight.”

“Me too,” he pulled your head up to meet his, placing his lips gently on yours. This kiss felt different than the others, more passionate, slower and more tender. Rafe pulled away looking into your eyes. He felt a warm feeling in his stomach, like it was summer, butterflies floating around.  His knees felt weak, as he whispered, “I love you.”

He had never said it before. He don’t even think he had felt it before, ever. He didn’t get this feeling when he was with other girls or his family. He felt nervous, worried that this wasn’t the feeling he was meant to have.

“I love you too,” the anxiety pulsating through his body subsided when he heard those words. He pulled you in for another kiss and he knew. This was what it was meant to be like: love. Real love.

We end our day up on the roof

I say I'll jump, I never do

But when I'm drunk I act a fool

Talking 'bout, do they sew wings on tailored suits

You had reached the Cameron house, following Rafe up to his room. He immediately moved across the room, stepping outside his large window. You huffed, following him, knowing your argument wasn’t over. You sat next to him, bringing your legs up to your chest, looking out over the trees, looking as if they were glistening under the moonlight.

“You know, sometimes, I think it would be easier if I jumped.”

His voice was solemn, yet serious. He sounded as if it was something he had genuinely considered, hard expression staring off into the middle distance.

“Rafe,” you started, but he continued.

“I think, it would be so much easier to just end this life, start the next. See what’s in store for the afterlife. But then I think, would there even be a spot for a person like me in heaven?”

You didn’t know what to say. Your skin felt hot and your heart was beating out of your chest.

“You’re not a bad person, you just… do stupid stuff sometimes,” you tried to calm him. But his expression didn’t change.

I'm on that ledge, she grabs my arm

She slaps my hand

It's good times, yeah

Sleeve rips off, I slip, I fall

The market's down like 60 stories

He was stood now, but his feet were unsteady. He looked almost unwell, sweat beaded across his forehead. You stood slowly arms outstretched, watching as his feet shuffled. They took one too many little steps, missing one of the roof tiles, causing him to wobble.

“Rafe!” you screamed, reaching forward grabbing his arm. You used all the strength in your body to pull him towards you. It worked but sent both of you falling back onto the roof. He landed next to you. You groaned as you sat up, rubbing your elbows which took the brunt of your fall.

“What the fuck was that Y/N?” his voice was gravely. He shoved you away from him, as he struggled to get to his feet again. You stood slowly.

“What the fuck was what? You were gonna fall, Rafe!” you yelled back, your face holding a bewildered expression.

He felt the fire burning inside once again. But now the voices that had been drowned out from the sticky substance flying up his nose, had begun crawling out of the void

No one loves you.

Your father thinks you’re a failure.

No one loves you.

You’re not gonna get anywhere.

Why would she love you?

“I don’t need your fucking help, okay?” His voice was venomous. You could feel droplets of spit hit your face, burning as if they were poisonous. Tears welled in your eyes as he continued to scream, “I’ve never wanted it. You were a good fuck, but you don’t mean anything to me!”

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered. It was the drugs talking. He was Rafe, your Rafe, and he loved you.

“Yeah, I do.” The certainty in his voice was piercing. The voices were egging him on: you mean it, you mean it. But really, he felt it. Nothing meant anything to him. The void was swallowing him up whole and he didn’t want to take you with him. “Everything in my life is shit, okay? Including you. I don’t need you telling me what to do and I especially don’t need you for anything else. We’re done.”

Tears were falling rapidly down your face. His expression was so hard, it alone couldn’t have cracked your heart. Sobs began escaping from your lips, watching as he breathed heavily. This was not the boy you fell in love with. This was the shell, overtaken by his self-loathing and unfulfillment. You wiped your face, collecting yourself.

“So what that’s it?” you asked, already knowing the answer. Rafe didn’t say anything, the only movement coming from him being the heavy rise and fall of his chest. “I really hope you figure out whatever’s going on with you,” your voice was so shaky the words nearly didn’t come out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you hastily climbed back through the window, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.

The heat had subsided from Rafe’s body as he watched you leave. Your tears had dampened enough of the fire for him to realise what he had just done.

She never loved you.

You’re a failure.

How could anyone ever love you?

He heard your car start from the driveway, seeing the red reflection of your lights against the trees get dimmer and dimmer. You were gone. And you were never going to come back.

And some don't end the way they should

My silver spoon has fed me good

A million one, a million cash

Close my eyes and feel the crash

So you and Rafe broke up. You’d run into each other at parties occasionally, barely making eye contact and definitely never speaking. Over time you showed up with a new boyfriend, clad in designer wear. Rafe continued to hand in the corner, snorting blow and a bottle Moet in his hands, desperately clinging to the last thing he had left, you.

The Cameron money stood well over time, aiding Rafe and his addiction. But every snort came at a different kind of price. His emptiness grew larger and wider, fully encircling his body. The only thing reminding him he was alive was the pit in his stomach, ignited every time he got high.

At night when he would close his eyes, begging slumber to take him he would see your face. The wind blowing through your hair. Your smile. What it felt like to feel loved. Something he hadn’t felt until he met you and hadn’t felt since he lost you. He was empty and unloved.

Real love, ain't that something rare

I'm searching for a real love, talking 'bout real love

Real love, yeah

Real love

I'm searching for a real love

Talkin' 'bout a real love

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

a/n: I never really write angst jsjdjajsj but lemme know what you thought.

Tags:

@downbytheouterbanks @thesailbells @sexualparkour @maybankxcameron @mileven-reddie @nikki082489@treestarrrrrrrr @mynamessusan @kristinaxilliano @love-bean @lauraxwndrlnd @jjsthumbring @obxmxybxnk@lovelymaybankk @http-cherries @belledutchess @wicked-laugh @jjswhore @sspidermanss @fandomobsessedlife@dolanfivsosxox @whenyouregrungeaff @poguestyleskye @iknowrocknroll567 @kingdomheartsfan109@dangerouswhispersblog @hopelesswritingxd @marveloucnco @riverdaleserpent04 @yeetingcelery @babyhoneystvles@ravngers @k3nz-doodl3 @famousstarsandkelly @readysteadygo23 @finelinetrack @sha-nah @silverstarsandsuns@awkwardnesshabitat @annedub @a-wade @ineedmorestyles @averagxfangirl @shreyaodedra06 @silverstarsandsuns@jjmaybangme @kisssmefree @shawnssongs @p0gues4l @hannahufflepuff @lovelymaybankk@tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @softstarkey @kiarasflowr @drewstarkey @tcmhollnd @myrandom-fandomlife@jjtheangel @jjmaebank @masintahin @o-b-x @stilinskiandsuch @jellyfishbeansontoast @tessisawriter @cutiecolbsss@my-soul-is-the-moon @sunshinemadds @kisssmefree @certainstatesmantoadartisan @lefthandwritings @poguecollins@disagreeable-pink @tytheguyudontno @helplessquotess @taaniesha @obx-beach @thegeekyblondegirlwholovesstars@lcil123 @teenwaywardasgardian @sortagaysortahigh@jeyramarie​ @ellystone @classygirlything @marauderskeeper​ @rudyypankow  @ssjiara @bluebirdsbluebells @lavenderpope @rretrophilee @kitluvs1 @outerpogues @maaybanks@maebanks @thelocalpogue @heyhey-heyward @popcsheyward @maybe-maybanks @pixelated-pogues @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @maybankdreams @maybankiara @pogue-writings @honeymendesx @faded-blue @smiithys @justpeachykeeeen @justcallmesams @danicarosaline @free-pool-trash @saturnspack @velyssaraptor @no-shxt-sherl@saphira1412 @raekenliar @pancakefancake @imuniqueperson123 @marveling-avengers @lus-shh@hmspxgue @winterdameron

[tiredcath]

Zukka Fic Recs

after atla came back into pop culture i found myself falling back in love with zukka which resulted in me reading (almost) every zukka fic on ao3 and here are my favorites

Transference by The_Quatermasters (146k)

In a modern AU, Zuko has to deal with settling in a new school after expulsion, dealing with an angry ex and an abusive father. Maybe his new found friendships and growing closeness with Sokka will help him make it through. 

Borderlines by The_Quatermasters (73k)

Three years after the war, the work still isn't quite done and the Gaang is scattered across the continents in their efforts to help the world recover. When Aang and Katara pay visit to the Fire Nation where Zuko is Fire Lord and Sokka acts as Ambassador for the Water Tribe, sparks fly between the siblings over Sokka's life choices.

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster (47k)

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

sirens & sleepless nights by Satirrian (54k)

Life can be pretty hard living in a city under a totalitarian regime. Between adhering to the ridiculous curfew, keeping himself from being gunned down by a passing patrolman, and paying his unnecessary tolls to the state for, say, breathing, Sokka has his hands full just getting to work. Add aiding a resistance group on top of that, and Sokka should really be getting paid for this.

Then, one night, Sokka finds an injured patrolman collapsed in the street, who tells him with blood on his lips, “If the patrol finds me, I’m dead.”

 Real Slow by surveycorpsjean (21k)

“I see.” Zuko closes the scroll. “Is the Water Tribe sending a replacement?”

“Uh yeah,” Sokka gestures to himself dramatically. “You’re looking at him.”

 First by HoneyBadgerMole (20k)

Zuko has been nurturing a crush on the jock in his AP Psych class but he has been too scared to talk to him until they get paired up for a project.

the benefits of getting a flat tire by LesbeanLatte (64k)

Zuko makes an impromptu decision to run away from home after a disturbing conversation with Azula. Unfortunately, some plans are better when they're actually, well, planned. Zuko isn't counting on getting a flat tire almost as soon as he's far enough away from the city to really be in the middle of nowhere.

Sokka is immediately taken with the stranger he and his friends find stranded on the side of the road during an afternoon joy ride. However, he has no idea what he's getting involved with and a kind attempt to help a fellow teen in need turns into a massive coverup for a missing person who just so happens to be the son of the mayor of Ba Sing Se.

Azula was just trying to help her big brother - in her own way - by telling him things she thought he deserved to know. Now the situation has gotten wildly out of control. Did she enjoy seeing Zuko upset and afraid? Of course. Had she intended to endanger his life? Not necessarily, but of course, her idiot brother overreacted to everything and that's what happened and now she doesn't know how to stop the chain of events she's indirectly put in place like dominoes.

Operation Leverage by snowandfire (50k)

Sokka's instincts are onto something great. Zuko just wants to serve tea and brood in peace. Ironically, Toph is the only one who can see what's really going on.

 The Stingray by Smediterranea (24k)

“You’re not carrying me.”

“I don’t mind,” the lifeguard says easily.

“I can just hop over.”

“On sand?”

Zuko will never admit it, but being carried feels pretty nice. The lifeguard sets him down and eyes him warily.

“Are you really all by yourself?” he asks in a worried tone. “No friends in town you can call to check on you?”

“No,” Zuko confirms. Tears are forming again with alarming speed; his foot throbs painfully with every passing second.

“What kind of burrito do you want?”

“You don’t have to —“ Zuko repeats.

“I’m getting al pastor. You like al pastor?”

 AU: Zuko falls for Sokka, the super hot lifeguard who helps him after an unfortunate encounter with a stingray.

 it's the illusion of separation by argentoswan (110k)

Sokka takes a job washing dishes at the new tea shop in town. It's a great gig, until he finds out his only coworker is his old high school bully. Sokka really should quit, but he also really needs to afford rent.

Also, Zuko is kind of hot now.

 People like to think war means something by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once (21k)

Sokka was the first to leave.

Somehow that hurt the most. . . . Not long after Zuko becomes Firelord, forces gather in the South and next thing he knows he's thrown into a civil war with almost no one by his side. Maybe healing is longer and more complicated than it needs to be, but with the right people by your side it is always possible.

 a way that will destroy you by anothermistakemade (14k)

In the wake of Ozai's death, Zuko begins to fall apart. Sokka will do everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen.

-

or, zuko might be losing his mind, but he also might just be really sad & traumatized

 Those Who Favor Fire by CSHfic, VSfic (30k)

After a failed attempt on his life, Sokka fakes his death, dons a disguise, and infiltrates the would-be assassin's ranks in an attempt to bring them down from the inside.

Zuko learns of his husband's tragic death, mourns, and vows revenge.

 Words Mean More at Night by DaisytheDoodleDog (28k)

Even ten years after the end of the war, rebellions rise and risk the balance of the nations. Sokka was willing to do anything to protect his people, which is perhaps why he's leading an army against the rebellion, attacking only as a last result. But Sokka's unwinding, it's taking a toll on him, and the only thing keeping him grounded are the letter Zuko and him exchange late in the night when no one can see the messenger hawks. But as they say, nothing's fair in love and war.

another word for wanting by eurydicees (23k)

Sokka begins to dream of his soulmate when he's eleven years old, and it just gets harder from there. Or, 125 moments soulmates share, and none of them come easy.

(In which your dreams are your soulmate's memories, and Sokka dreams of an all-consuming fire, growing and eating at his soulmate until it burns up the connection between their souls. In which they find love anyways.)

 It Has Only Just Begun by Kirazalea (39k)

There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring

Zuko had now chosen the path his uncle had been trying so hard to show him; he had someone who believed in him, who maybe loved him; he was travelling with the Avatar and they apparently had a plan to end the war. By all accounts, Zuko should be smiling.

But Uncle was gone (captured by Azula, and Zuko didn't think she would kill him, but he didn’t, couldn’t, know for sure). The Avatar was barely breathing (he could still die at any second and there was nothing any of them could do about it). Azula had conquered the last Earth Kingdom stronghold (all those innocent people who were now at her mercy). It seemed like, for every step Zuko took forward, the world sent him back three more.

But he was determined to push forward anyways. He needed to make his uncle proud, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

aka: zuko joins the gaang at the end of season 2

 Nightmares and Reveries by HisMomoness (20k)

Zuko doesn't sleep because when he does, he's haunted by nightmares. Sokka worms his way into a job and makes it his mission to get Zuko to relax. Lots of head pets and one vacation to the South Pole later, Zuko might just be getting the hang of it.

Cue pining, some fluff, and eventual romance.

 The One Who Stopped Time by ohhihoney (66k)

All hope was lost to Zuko until one day, his uncle asked a random person at the Jasmine Dragon to tutor his nephew. Gritting his teeth and embarrassed beyond the point of no return, Zuko gave the blue eyed boy his number.

Little did Zuko know how much Sokka would change his world.

 Rubbed Off Stars by ohhihoney (2k)

Sokka wasn't going to just sit and watch the boy at the back of the bus cry while trying to rub off pride flags off his cheeks.

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

WIP

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (168k)

After that fateful Agni Kai, Ozai makes a different call. Branded as a traitor and banished to a prison camp, Zuko learns how cruel the Fire Nation can be to its citizens. Three years, a water tribe raid, and an unexpected meeting with a gang of over-enthusiastic idealistic children puts Zuko back in the spotlight. The revolution is coming and it wants another poster boy, but Zuko is not willing to lend his face to the cause.

 Another Brother by AvocadoLove (312k)

It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.

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

BONUS : zuko x jet

Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery (122k)

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

[peraltasames]

gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies

written for @397bartonstreet for the @b99fandomevents summer fic exchange for the prompt peraltiago + pda!! i hope you like it!! 

read on ao3

The first night Jake and Amy spend out of the cozy confines of their apartment after he comes home is magical - filled with salty ocean air and warm breezes and plentiful food and wine supplied by Charles.

It’s one of those end-of-summer nights that you appreciate all the more for the finality of it all, knowing that there are a limited number of evenings like this left before the air gets colder and the leaves begin to turn brown.

It’s the kind of night Amy would have loved at any time of her life, regardless of the circumstances, but it’s made so much better by the company - comprised of her closest friends and, more importantly, her fresh-out-of-prison boyfriend.

Amy hasn’t been able to pry herself away from him unless absolutely necessary since she greeted him at JFK two weeks ago. She’s soaking up every glorious moment of being with Jake, every kiss and hug and joke that she’s been robbed of for the past few months.

It was only an invitation to Charles’ beach house - his ex-wife gave him a few extra months with it after she bought a condo in Florida for the winter - that persuaded them to leave the city for the night and spend time with the squad.

This is how she finds herself curled up into Jake’s side on the back deck overlooking the ocean, absorbed in pure happiness.

His arm is wrapped around her, the other stroking her legs that are tucked into his lap, and her head is resting in the crook of his neck. Periodically, she’ll reach up to run her fingers through his hair or kiss his jaw and cheek. A different, younger version of herself would’ve thought this to be too much PDA, especially in front of their colleagues (not Holt, thankfully, as he and Kevin had tickets to the Opera), but every day she’s spent apart from the love of her life has stripped away her concern for social etiquette a little more.

There’s been a few borderline-creepy comments from Charles or raised eyebrows from the rest of the group, but for the most part, everyone else seems to be giving them the same free pass to be as abhorrently cheesy as they desire.

Her cheeks are hot from the tequila shots Rosa keeps pouring, a common occurrence in the few days since her breakup with Pimento. Amy got drunk with her at Shaw’s as per their post-breakup tradition (the end of her relationship with Adrian earned them more shots than Marcus and Teddy combined) but still returned home to Jake by 9:30. Needless to say, Rosa understood.

Her insides feel equally warm each time Jake whispers a sweet nothing in her ear, always accompanied by a kiss to her temple.

He cracks a joke - something stupid and dorky which she only heard in fragments over the music and chatter - which makes the rest of the group erupt in laughter. It’s so familiar that Amy can’t resist angling her head to look up at her boyfriend’s crooked grin and wide eyes, finally starting to regain some of their sparkle. She thinks she could gaze at him for years without getting bored. She’s not sure how long actually passes - probably at least five minutes, but it could be hours - before he notices her eyes lingering on his face and looks back at her.

He raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly, a silent “are you okay?” that’s become part of their secret language, to which she nods and smiles. He leans in for a kiss, which she sinks into wholeheartedly. When he begins to pull away, Amy grabs his face to anchor herself and kisses him harder, moaning softly as his tongue slips into her mouth, and-

“Ahem.”

Amy pulls away from Jake quickly, nearly falling out of her chair in surprise at the loud noise. All eyes are on them, and Gina’s arms are crossed.

“Okay, lovebirds - I get it. We all totally get it. We’re all very happy you two are reunited and super in love and all that crap. But you literally have a bedroom,” Gina gestures to the house, “less than twenty feet away.”

“We wanted to hang out with everyone!” Jake says defensively. “We haven’t even been that bad.”

“Amy’s been staring at you for the past twenty minutes straight, and you guys haven’t let go of each other since we got here,” Rosa adds. “I’m pretty sure you went to the bathroom together.”

“We both had to go!”

“Seriously guys, just do us all a favour and go hang out alone,” Terry says.

Like a flash, Charles stands up and darts into the house, arriving less than thirty seconds later with a blanket, an unopened bottle of wine, and a wide-eyed grin that can only mean he’s about to get way too involved in their relationship.

Jake, who knows this look as well as Amy does, makes a last-ditch attempt to stop this before it begins. “Charles-“

“Jake, take this stuff and Amy and your epic love for one another and get your butt down to that beach to watch the sunset or I will drag you there myself.”

Normally, they would both be far too stubborn to agree to a plan like this and remain with their friends out of spite, but they’re both still tired and weary from the months of long days and restless nights. Plus, having a few minutes to themselves sounds really good right now.

Amy manages to communicate this to him in a single glance, a testament to how well they truly know each other, and Jake takes her by the hand and reluctantly grabs the blanket and wine from Charles with the other.

“Have fun, you two!” Charles shouts as they embark on the path down to the water. “And do whatever you want, there’s nobody around for miles!”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Don’t ruin it, man!”

The beach is deserted for as far as they can see in either direction, so they walk for about five minutes until they’re sufficiently distanced from the house and lay the blanket down on the cool sand. It‘s still warm enough to be comfortable, but the cool breeze coming off the water as the waves crash against the shore is enough to send Amy right into Jake’s waiting arms (not that she needed an excuse, of course).

His arms automatically wrap around her, and she leans back against his chest so they both have an optimal view of the orange and pink hues over the horizon.

“Are we bad friends?” Jake murmurs in her ear.

Any shakes her head decisively, grabbing his hand where it rests on her ribcage and sliding their fingers together.

“No, I think we get at least another week or two of being this obnoxious.”

“We did kinda earn it,” he agrees.

Amy relishes the last moments of what has to have been the worst summer of her life with the best possible ending. She’s not sure she would’ve believed even a month ago that she would end up here so soon, holding her boyfriend close instead of an old hoodie or tear-stained picture frame.

“This view is amazing,” Amy sighs, leaning further into him.

“This one’s better,” Jake says, tilting her head slightly until their lips meet. “Too cheesy?”

“Nope,” Amy mumbles between kisses. “The perfect amount of cheese.”

“Mm, just like Sal’s-”

“Babe, can we not talk about pizza toppings while we’re making out?”

“Cool, cool, good rule.”

She turns her body so she’s hovering over him and presses a long, slow kiss to his lips, letting herself linger in his space when she pulls away.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, their noses still touching.

Jake’s hands run down her body, sending chills up her spine. “I love you so much, Ames.”

She kisses him again, with more force than before, and they continue kissing and laughing and cherishing every moment with each other while the waves crash on the beach. They don’t make it back to the house until well after the sun has disappeared over the horizon.

[crystalirises]

The Final Answer (36 Questions AU 2/13)

Second part.

ONE THING

Dream froze, the door groaning against its hinges as it slowly creaked open. He took a step back, hastily placing his mask back on as the face of his husband peered up at him from within the shadows of the cabin. Fundy had his arms crossed in front of his chest, a frown etched upon his face as those eyes – the eyes that used to hold nothing but love for him – regarded him with disdain. Dream wondered what he looked like to Fundy right now. A shivering and desperate mess in the rain or did he look as he usually did?

“I’m only letting you in so you don’t get eaten alive.” Fundy tore his gaze away, heart beating painfully in his chest. He couldn’t look into those beady black eyes drawn upon Dream’s mask. His hand gripped the brass handle of the door, resisting the urge to slam it on his ex-husband’s face. An inkling of fear settled in him as he stepped back to let the man in. 

How did Dream even find him? He watched as Dream trudged into the room, clumps of wet sand and dirt scattering onto the polished wood floor.

“So… you’re saying that I won’t be eaten alive in the house?” Dream swallowed down the dry chuckle rising in his throat, the callous warmth of the house did nothing to assure himself of what he sought to accomplish. Fundy’s gaze turned towards the floor, irritation flashing across his face. Dream winced, feeling the bits of sands falling off his trousers. Well, this wasn’t the best way to start apologizing to your husband. Dream had until the storm ended, maybe this won’t end in disaster… He hoped it didn’t.

“Not by zombies.” There’s an underlying growl beneath Fundy’s words, an anger he thought he had quenched surfacing as he heard the liar speak. Fundy shook his head. No. No. No. Just happy thoughts. Drywaters Law #1: No Negative Shit. Fundy forced himself to look into those painted black eyes, the simple smile on that porcelain mask seemed eerie against the darkening land beyond the house. He gritted his teeth, a mockery of a smile. It would be rude of him to let the man die out in the rain, right?

“Please close the door behind you.” Fundy turned to walk further into the house, dragging his feet towards the living room. As much as he loathed his current and unexpected guest, he hoped he had a spare blanket to share. The man would catch a cold at this rate. Could Dream even get sick? Admins couldn’t  get sick right?

“Hi, Funds― and he’s walking away.” Dream sighed, catching a glimpse of Fundy’s tail disappearing into one of the rooms. He grasped the door handle, trying his best to gently close the door behind him, wincing as it let out a loud screech. 

This was good. They were together. In a house. With each other. Just the two of them. No one else. No L’Manburg. No Essempy. Just the two of them.  Dream just needed to get his husband to forgive him. Easier said than done. 

“He’s still mad, isn’t he? What can I do? Wait did I―”

“I can hear you!” Fundy scowled, gripping at the pitiful white sheet that he had found draped over the couch. It was a flimsy thing, thin and certainly not enough to block out the cold, but it would have to do. A squeak broke him from his annoyance, he looked up at the small bat hanging from the ceiling. 

“Sorry. Did we wake you? Don’t worry, he’ll be leaving soon… No. No. It’s okay. Just keep yourself warm up there, alright? Wouldn’t want to lose you too―”

“Who are you talking to?” Dream had made his way to the room, the low hush of a whisper drifting through the air. He stared pointedly at his husband who… was talking to the ceiling? Not that Dream was going to judge him. His husband had… his own strange ways to cope and he didn’t want to get kicked out of the house by commenting about this one. Fundy spun on his heel, the hint of a smile on his face, disappearing as soon as their gazes met.

“I’ll ask the questions, what are you doing here?” Fundy tossed the sheet at Dream – who caught it without fail – walking past the man to rummage through one of the few chests he had in his home. Niki insisted he place a fireplace in the cabin, oh he didn’t expect he’d be using it under such circumstances. His fingers curled around a familiar object, flashes of burning cloth racing through his mind as he pulled out his old trusty flint and steel. His ears began to twitch. No. No. No. No bad thoughts. Just good thoughts, Fundy.

“Fundy, you know why― Is that a bat?!” Dream looked up. The blanket in his hand nearly falling to the ground as he sawthe black blur on the ceiling.

“Dream!” Fundy’s head snapped towards his ex-husband, his teeth clenched together so tightly that he feared they might crack. He was tired. No. He was exhausted. New life? HA! Fundy should’ve known that the peace wouldn’t last forever. Not when he got married to the literal god of― “Dream, you… Why are you here? I thought leaving the ring would have been a good enough hint for you. Did you… Did you follow me here? Why?”

“I didn’t follow you here, Fundy… I was worried. You can’t just leave without a note. How was I to know where you were? It’s a bad time, Fundy. The entire server is after my head. They would do anything to get to me, including―” Dream’s attention turned towards the flint and steel. He tensed. Fundy and fire… wasn’t a good combination. He moved closer, the fox hybrid shuffling to move away from him. 

Dream paused, “Can you… put the flint and steel down? It’s very intimidating.”

“Wha― You know― You don’t― Like, do you actually know what you did – what you did to me – or have you lied to yourself so much you’ve developed selective memory?” Fundy shook his head, the word ‘memory’ a bitter taste against his tongue. He leaned against the cobblestone wall of the fireplace. The fire he had meant to start forgotten in favor of his ex-husband. He just wanted to get this over with. 

“Dream… I already have an amnesiac dad. I don’t need another angst fest in my life, okay?” Fundy hid his face in his hands, his ears erratically twitching on top of his head.  

“Fundy… I came here for you. Whatever I did… I can make up for it, I swear! Just… come home… please...” Dream wondered if Fundy could hear him, his voice barely a whisper. The fox hybrid’s ears were twitching so that had to mean something, right? 

“For me?”

“For you?!”

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant!” Okay that was the wrong thing to say, oh no. Dream turned his attention back towards the ceiling, wringing his hands together as he thought of what he could say that wouldn’t get him tossed out the already broken windows. Small brown eyes met his gaze, a small squeak echoing through the room. A bat. A BAT! That was a good conversation to have, right? Fundy liked to talk about his pets… He loved to talk about his pets… 

“That’s… that’s a really cute bat.” Dream pursed his lips.

“Correct. Yes, they're the best bat in the world.” Fundy rolled his eyes, not missing the way Dream quickly changed the conversation. Coward.

“Where did they come from?” Dream held his breath, not missing the way Fundy spoke to him with such malice and hate. He messed up.

“I…” Fundy sighed, running his recently trimmed nails across the skin of his arms. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not with his ex-husband of all people. 

“Their name is Batry and they’re here because I found them in a cave and invited them back here. They love flowers and have incredible comedic timing, and kind of my only friend right now, which I’m sure sounds insane to you but― you know what? I don’t have to explain things seeing as how you refuse to explain even the most basic things to me, like… did you even care for me?”

“Fundy, of course I―”

“You only care about the discs, right? What was that about, Dream? The wars were over! But you―”

“Okay, wait―”

“Do you even actually need food or sleep to function? Are you some sort of immortal god? Because I―”

“I wasn’t judging! They seem like a really chill bat.” Dream’s voice wavered, his breath quickening at the sudden confrontation. This wasn’t how it was meant to be.

“Well, they are very chill!” Fundy screeched, his hair bristling in absolute anger. Anger at what? Fundy… Fundy didn’t know… He didn’t want to fight. Not here in his newly made country of happiness, anyway.

“If they’re helping you get through this stressful time Fundy, I’m all for it. Really! I only came out here to ask you to do one thing.” Dream took his chance. He edged closer, hesitated before he placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder.

He held his breath as he waited for the fox hybrid’s answer. Fundy’s gaze turned towards the hand on his shoulder, “…one thing.”

“Yeah… one thing―” A loud crash rang throughout the house, the floor shaking beneath their feet at the violent intrusion. Dream quickly reacted, his hand moving to grip the back of Fundy’s jacket, pulling him closer as he summoned his sword to his hand. Fundy’s hat pressed onto the blade’s hilt. 

“What was that?” Dream glared at the hall, expecting a zombie to emerge from the corner.

“That would be the sound of the shelf I just built, buckling under the weight of a hundred books.” No. Fundy did not appreciate being in his ex-husband’s protective embrace. Shut up.

“Oh.” Dream coughed, backing off immediately. His sword faded back into his inventory, and he placed Fundy’s hat on the sofa before he could accidentally rip it. Fundy would never forgive him if he destroyed it. Though Fundy did leave it out in the rain, what was up with that?

“You know this place…” Sucks. The word was on the tip of his tongue, but Fundy refused to say it. Why would he give his ex-husband the impression that he was clearly unhappy? The sharp crack of glass followed soon after, 

“And there goes my collection of Ghostbur’s blue.” Fundy sighed, his tail curling around his waist as if he was trying to console himself.

“I… I know I’m not supposed to be asking questions, but… your entire family is here in the Essempy… Couldn’t they have helped you do all this work on the house?” The house was a mess, and Dream didn’t mean that lightly. He glanced at the misshapen windows, the floor made from different pieces of wood…

“They don’t know.” Dream’s head snapped to look at Fundy.

“They don’t know you’re moving?” Fundy winced at the accusatory tone. Did it matter if he had told them? No one would have noticed anyway…

“Moving is such a strong word…” Fundy flailed his hands into the air, his own nervousness betraying him. The smell of smoke filled the air, Dream freezing in place as he looked at something behind Fundy. 

“Do you… Do you smell smoke?��� Fundy sniffed at the air, wondering if he had accidentally left something on in the kitchen.

“Fundy.” Dream reached out once more, turning the fox hybrid to look at the small fire his flint and steel had caused. He nearly screamed when Fundy had flailed his hands, the flint and steel flying from his loose grip. 

“Ah, yeah… that’s fire. Just stay calm. Just a small little fire, can you hand me some water?” Dream didn’t look up from the growing flames, holding out a hand towards Fundy.

“Shit― Uh, sure.”

He felt the heat before he saw it. He looked down at the bucket of lava on his hands, frustration bubbling to the surface of his mind. He placed the bucket down, summoning his own bucket of water. The fire died just as quickly as it had been born. 

“Did you just hand me a bucket of lava?”

“What? Oh! Dammit I thought that was something else.” Fundy gripped the edges of his hair, groaning at the stupid mistake that might have destroyed everything he’s worked for. 

“Well, as you can see, you’re timing, as always, is impeccable. I’ve now broken the first law of Drywaters, thanks Dream.” Fundy threw his hands in the air, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.

Dream tried to keep his composure, knowing that a sliver of his own annoyance would lead to nothing but heartbreak. He needed to fix this. Now. 

“One thing, Fundy. That’s all I’m asking for.” Dream tried to reach for Fundy’s hand, stopping as he realized he couldn’t.

“One thing…” Fundy sighed, falling onto the sofa, his head hidden in his hands. He couldn’t look at his ex-husband. Not if he wanted to keep his own resolve.

“I came out here for one thing… And that little bitty one thing…” He had tried so hard. He had stayed for a man who he thought loved him. He was wrong.

“…was to forget about you.” Fundy held back the sob in his throat. His fingers clung to the frayed edge of the couch, a momentary distraction from what was currently happening.

“But I guess I've learned something, that there's never really one thing.” The fox hybrid flung his head back, exhaustion taking its claim as he remembered… his tasks.

“'Cause pretty quickly one thing, evolves into two, or three, or more.” He didn’t realize running away from his responsibilities would mean… more responsibilities. This was unfair.

“For example… See the light in the hallway? It is always flickering. Ever since I installed it, it is always flickering.” Dream frowned. That wasn’t right. His star was an excellent inventor. There’s… there’s no way that one light bulb would be his great downfall.

Fundy couldn’t make anything… he didn’t have the motivation to.

“After three days here, it was unbearable. My list grew: Two, fix the light bulb, and one, forget about you…” Three days… Dream had only realized today… was that how long Fundy’ had been gone?

It had been a week since he left. Fundy would visit the house they shared in that week… hoping for a sign that he should stay.

“Went back home, stole a bulb. One of those new LEDs. Brought it home, put it in, but the redstones weren't connecting. Suddenly, they went on the fritz…” No… His star was a master with redstone…

Fundy couldn’t think straight in the past few days… not enough to make a simple light source light up.

“My list grew: Three, fix up the redstone. Two, fix the lightbulb, and one, forget about you…” Fundy wasn’t done. The long list flashing in his mind as he recalled every bad thing that had gone wrong.

“So, I went to the attic and to my utmost delight, there it is, red vines, killing me slowly each night... and I feel it's my duty to remove it…” Wait… red vines? Dream didn’t like the sound of that…

Fundy couldn't bring himself to take them down… he couldn't take them down.

“My list grew: Four, kill the red vines. Three, fix up the redstone. Two, fix the lightbulb, and one, forget about you―”

“Yeah, but my one thing is really just…” Did… Dream really just interrupt him?

“I'm not done.” Fundy raised a hand, gesturing out towards the hallway. 

“See the tarp in the hallway? That’s meant to be a gallery wall, lots of pictures, super classy. Glad I had to make the call, but in scouring for vines, I had to take the place apart…” Fundy had wanted to place his most cherished memories up on that wall, the pictures he had taken with Ranboo… the one with Niki… maybe even the one with his father. Of course, the world really told him ‘no’.

“Because sometimes to solve a problem…” Their eyes met, a sickening suggestion hanging in the air as Fundy spoke those words. 

“You follow it back to the start.”

Dream froze at the faint sound of creaking wood.

“Oh. Who's that?” Dream reached for the sword in his inventory.

“No one. It just does that when it rains!” Fundy hoped the house didn’t end up flooded by the end of the day. 

“When I tried to rebuild the wall that I'd taken down, I discovered two holes burrowed right into the ground, and I didn't have the heart to kill 'em… So my list grew― But then, the cement that I found to fill in the gaping holes wasn't good, it didn't stick. Apparently, cement can get old?! In trying to fix one thing, I made everything worse…” Fundy screamed into a pillow, his rambling getting longer with each second.

“My list grew: Nine, steal new cement. Eight, take care of this bat I found. Seven, clean out the pipes for the bathroom and the kitchen. Six, rebuild the wall. Five, keep out the pests. Four, kill the red vines. Three, fix up the redstone. Two, fix the lightbulb, and one, forget about you…”

Nine. Nine fucking things. And he knows – HE KNOWS – it’s going to get longer. FUCK HE SHOULD ADD A HUNDRED MORE TO THE LIST NOW THAT DREAM WAS HERE―

“I think it's lovely… to see you fix up this new house, because you want it to be… nice for your own country…” Dream didn’t care that Fundy was making his own country. He just wished he had been told. He knelt down in front of the couch, reaching out to place his hand on top of the hybrid’s. He was happy for his husband. He was! But not if it meant losing his sanity for it! 

“But I think maybe you're obsessing… over things you can control, hoping to control your feelings for…” 

“What?!” Fundy withdrew his hand, his ears pressed against the top of his head as he stood up from the coach. The nerve― The actual nerve― He began to pace the length of the room, sparing a single glance towards the man who hadn’t moved a single inch from the couch. Feelings? Feelings?! Oh, Fundy had feelings alright. Just not those types of feelings. No, what he wanted right now was to burn something. But not his house because he worked so hard on this stupid cabin. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…”

“So… you came here, looking for one thing… and you're saying that one thing… was to forget about me?” It struck a chord in his heart. Dream picked at the frayed seams of the couch. He couldn’t bring himself to look into Fundy’s eyes. 

How did he mess this up so badly? Their differing politics were supposed to stay out of their personal life… It never got in the way before… Even when they met on the battlefield. 

“Well, all I am asking is for you to do the first thing, which could also be the last thing that you do with me.”

“These things needed to get done– okay, okay…” Fundy wrapped his arms around himself, tail curling onto around his right leg. He had so much to do, and with Niki and Ranboo off doing their own thing, he could at least try and― He froze, darting across the other side of the room as soon as he noticed Dream standing up to move towards him. Dream tried to follow him, but Fundy didn’t want to be near him right now. He held up a hand. 

“Just… just… just stop moving towards me. Just stay on your side of the room―”

“Okay? So, we can talk this out?” Dream held onto that. He could salvage this, couldn’t he? They could talk this out, make up, and Fundy could forget about the whole… running away thing he’s currently got going on. They’d go back to the way it was. Though what that was exactly, Dream couldn’t really say.

“Well, listen… well, listen… If my friends are gonna be so nice to have me out here and respect my need to be alone during this really insane, crazy, impossible time of my life…” And by friends, Fundy meant Niki and Ranboo. He doubted anyone else would have noticed his absence. No one would notice if he just up and left, right? Well, New L’Manburg certainly wouldn’t have lost anything of value. 

“The absolute least I can do is, you know, just… just go around and… and… and… and… and… destroy this house.”

Fundy was ripped away from his thoughts, a hand grazing the top of his shoulder. When did Dream get so close? Dream frowned, the expression hidden beneath the mask. Fundy’s eyes had glazed over, and Dream knew what that meant. In any other circumstance, he would have pulled the fox hybrid into his arms… but he couldn’t do that now. 

“After tonight, you'll never hear from me again. If that's what you want. All we need to fix our marriage is one decent conversation. I'm asking for one chance.”

Fundy’s piercing brown eyes glared up at that porcelain mask, he should say no. He really should. But he never was the type to say no to someone he loved, was he? 

“We'll do this one thing…”

“It is the first thing…” Dream needed to get this right.

“We're doing together…” Fundy wanted it to be over.

“Since…”

“You left without saying a word.” Dream never meant for it to go that far.

“I found out you are not who I thought you were.” Fundy never thought he’d ever feel this betrayed.

“We'll do this one thing…” Fundy wished it would be just this one.

“It could be the last thing.” Dream hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

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

prev / next

[madmadmilk]

One After The One PART 1 | Tom Holland x Reader

Tinder BIO | soft TEASER | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | >>

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: What does one in a million even mean? Does it mean you’re the first of many or the fucking last? Does it mean that you’re somewhere in the middle? And what happens to the poor baby who ends up being the 999,999th one? Or worse, the one after The One? There ought to be some kind of prize for second to last, and second runner up. Especially when being #2 is your specific talent.

Warnings: Cursing, Suspicion, some Hard to Swallow Pills, and a million blurry pics

Word Count: 6.7K swipes left

Special Shoutout: Thank you @hypnotized-so-mesmerized for being a BETA for this chapter and for you lovely input!

-

“I can’t fucking believe you’ve got me fifth wheeling for this….” you sigh, as you blow strands of your hair away from your face. You walk briskly atop of the shifting sand behind your leggy friend.

All 5 foot 10 inches of her shakes with laughter as she watches you trip over yourself. She shrugs, “The more the merrier?”

You roll your eyes, resigning to a smile as she waves back for your hand to hold. You reach out and accept her offer loosely, allowing yourself to be pulled along.

“Come on, the boys are waiting.”

Right.

You watch the festival lights cast a warm glow at the edges of her silhouette. She smiles at you, bronzed, beautiful–– taken.

Over the past year, all your best friends started fucking dating each other.

Leaving you single, alone, and second best.

It wasn’t weird, it wasn’t unnatural–– but it quite literally happened over night. “This” is just your “new normal.”

You all still hung out, together, mismatched or separately. Nothing has stopped them from asking you to hang out, but there are times where you feel… The Line.

It was Common Sense tingling and telling you that certain occasions were more of a “date-night” rather than friendly get together. And the last thing you wanted to be was a cockblock to your own goddamn friends.

Like tonight, you were tagging along to the late-night-end-of-the-summer beach bar hop bash, with your two pairs of your closest friends. Sam and Ry, short for Ryan. And Liza and K, short for Erik.

Then there’s you, of course.

The three boys were waiting with drinks in hand, while you and Liza took your sweet time climbing the sandy stairs. This was the usual ritual, but you stood alone when you reached the guys. They paired off, easily, naturally, sweetly.

The vibrating radio-centric music drowned out the sounds of the lapping ocean, the conversation you walked into was near unintelligible, and the crowd was excited about something.

God, I wish that were me.

There wasn’t anything wrong with going to this year’s beach bash, as you go to it as a group every year–– it’s just that this time they were holding hands and you were holding a drink. It’s more sour than you’d like.

You were fine coming out “alone,” but who wants to be alone?

You greet one another with warm hugs and Liza immediately dives into a rant about officially moving in with K, and about how he doesn’t wanna mix his laundry with hers–– all those new domestic nuances. 

Sam rolls his eyes and exclaims, “Ry is the same fucking way–– like, it’s just cloth, babe.”

“Easy for you to say when all you wear is black––“ Ry retorts, pushing his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

Everyone starts with a snickering laugh, clinking beer bottles and recanting similar experiences.

Tonight you just don’t feel like it.

Living alone and sleeping alone is one of your specific talents. It’s been nice to have your own fucking bed, your own fucking room, your own fucking space–– all of it to just BE your own fucking self, by your fucking self. You’ve been this way for twenty-odd years now (kind of, you know what i mean). Love and friends are welcome to hang out, but at the end of the day, the place is all yours. And yours alone. That’s what home means to you.

“–– But living together hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be,” Liza smacks her lips, looking down in short embarrassment. She leans back against K, “There are good things too.”

Sam is quick to point out their PDA, and you take another sip of your drink. You would have spoken up to contribute about your own experiences, once upon a time. But that’s a sore topic you’re not willing to relive on this breezy night.

Instead, you laugh along, crossing your arms while propping your elbow on the bar. You’ll let tonight be as rosy as it can be with no time to dwell. Your drink is near empty, consumed faster than you remember. Someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey.”

You blink dryly, resurfacing. “Hm?”

K is rubbing the side of your arm, those hazel eyes darkened in the low light. His dark brows were raised high, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” you answer easily. You hold up your drink, making a smug face and down it to his bemusement. You shake the empty bottle, setting it back on the table. “Always good.”

He nods slowly, looking over at the other three still gossiping amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you can only imagining Sam and Liza were poking at each other by the way that Ry was smiling.

K swings his head back to you, “Wanna dance?”

“Sure.”

And you follow him, aware that, no, he didn’t want to dance. He wanted to talk.

You walk away with him, unnoticed by the others and tracing your finger across a brick wall. He stops, leaning against it and you do too. Looking over him, neat clothes and nervous face, you raise a brow.

“Sorry––“ he starts slowly, scratching the back of his neck.

“For what?” You laugh, scrunching your brows as you nod your head to the muffled music.

“This. It’s weird, right? Us. All of us, dating. That last year we were the ones single and you were––“ he sighs, pulling his lip to the side, “Last year was totally different. And now we’re all here, still together. Together-together.”

“Mhm, it was going to happen sooner or later,” you muse. K has loved Liza since Day One. And you and him have both known it, and what it means to him now. His dreams become reality every second that passes.

“Shut up,” he swats at your arm. You see the curl of his smile behind the embarrassment, “Nah. No. But this must be awkward for you, huh?”

You shrug. “Little bit. I’ll get over it, you guys are still my friends.”

His eyes search yours for the real truth. They were all so worried that them coupling up would ruin something, between themselves and with you. Ha. You told they they were stupid for thinking that. You believe in seizing the opportunities, in taking leaps and following your partner around the world–– in theory, at least.

They confided in you individually and you told them all the same thing. Tailored to their personalities, but in the same conceptual vein. 

“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then at least you tried and you don't have to spend another day wondering ‘what if..?’”

And they bought it. Now, that being said, you already knew that they all fucking liked each other so–– push her and push him and push him and him, and things will fall into place.

It’s just that… the new thing is that you’re the one out out of the loop. You used to be the first to know but now you’re last to find out. And that is strange.

You’re not their number 1 anymore. And there’s nothing you can say about it.

“You’re still my best friend, got it?” K leans his shoulder on yours and you rest yourself against him too. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Today, but not tomorrow.

It’s hard not to be bitter, and it’s horrible that there’s no remedy for it. FOMO is a new-age disease, after all. No science to sort it out yet, no justification to satiate it.

“So…. You talkin’ to anyone? Looking?” He asks too casually for a question he knew you hated. He bumps elbows with you and shake along with it.

“Nope,” your mouth pops at the “p.” 

He raises his brows again, and argh you hate that. There was always someone you were talking to, or someone you’ve been with. But not these days. These days you felt too tired to be someone’s ideal anything. 

“There are some cute guys around, looking at you,” his eyes twinkle a little too brightly for a straight guy with horrible taste. (Facts backed up by Sam, Ry, Liza, AND personal experience) “Plenty of fish, yeah?”

You shake your head, not interested. Sex could come and go, infatuation could come and go–– but you’re kinda tired of the short stuff.  But not exactly ready for a whole-ass relationship either. You don’t need to explain yourself–– you just know you wouldn’t last the night.

“Not in the mood,” you huff.

“Tonight,” he says suggestively, wiggling his shoulders.

You both laugh, you a little bit dryly. You try to direct his attention back to Liza and their budding romance, as the trio finds you guys again. At first they didn’t immediately stand coupled, Ry handing you a drink and Sam going to talk to K. Liza smoothed out her clothes and you all talked about some new plans. It was an honest good time. Ry spilled his drink on Sam, and complained about the laundry again–– Liza got waaaay too drunk and you and K were holding her in your arms while she staggered like Bambi.

It was nice and warm, and a lot like old times. 

I missed that.

You felt yourself smile and let loose–– not thinking of old ex’s or new flings. Just about the friends before you and how safe they made you feel, and how happy you are to see them happy. That’s love, right?

“Oh my god, look!” someone exclaimed, pointing a finger at the sky. You hear a loud clap.

As the night faded and grew colder, fireworks erupted into the sky with a loud crackle. You guys squealed and ran to the top of a sand dune, tripping and tumbling to see the dying summer sights. The fizzing calmed your calls. It’s funny how loud fiery skies filled you with the same awe every time. How it quieted you and made you feel small.

The couples soon held each other, soft embraces with their necks craned upwards. Their eyes twinkled from bursts of lights, smiling at the sharp crackles of sound.

Tonight was the one of many nights they would be able to spend in each other’s arms, so far away and close to you all at once.

This was the line you were cautious about–– you couldn’t talk to them when they were like this, out of courtesy. Out of honoring their moment.

You stood back, watching their excited faces instead of the bursting sky. You felt it. Not jealousy or bitterness, but the awful choke of curiousity and selfishness. The “what if that were me?”

It’s been a while since you’ve had arms wrap over your shoulders and kissed your hair. Enough time has passed for you to forget what that felt like. Too long? What was that like again?

The finale of fireworks struck across the inky, dark sky. You inhaled the smell of chalky smoke, tasting the salt in the air.  Lights and colors fill your eyes, unblinking.

You suck in your cheeks as it quiets and you can hear the ocean again. 

And you let yourself think, I want that again.

So with a new pulse, you went home and did the only logical thing in finding the next Love of Your Life.

You downloaded Tinder.

-

You avoided “serious” dating and being a “serious” anything to anyone, but seeing that “seriousness” in your friends made you wonder if you could be anything like them. If you were ready to open your heart to the possibility of loving and being loved.

Seriously. Sincerely. No bullshit.

This time.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you messed around setting up a profile on Tinder. Regretfully spending way too long shuffling through old selfies that were engaging and enticing. You sigh as you pick through the lot, frustrated at the mind games that have already started.

It’s tiring.

And that’s probably why you end up cracking a few days later and end up telling Sam and Ryan. It was a short two word text, “Tinder. Help?” And you got a speedy reply from both of them (even when you knew they were most likely sat right next to each other). They were at your place in less than an hour.

Sam applauds your efforts, but is only there for moral support more or less. He’s an ace at the dating game, but has no patience to explain his ways. 

“Typical,” You and Ry hum, as Sam rifles through your pantry instead.

Ryan, quiet as he is, sat with you and looked through the photos you choose. He broke down the psychology of it all; about the aloofness and whatever–– which you understood. You need to try hard, but not look like you are. Effortlessness, funny, chic, digestible, likeable–– 

“Performative.” He says flatly, “But this is fast and simple.”

And you have to agree, looking at your phone in his hands.

You blink as you reflect.

This is so much easier in fiction, in those movies where people go on a million dates in one week and match with the hottest fucking dudes ever. Where the protagonist has the perfect amount of self-confidence to keep her moving forward, endless chances to mess up and and still get the guy… God, it’s so easy on paper. There’s no dignity to lose. But here? In the “real” world, even on an app you could delete at anytime–– to put yourself out there? Mortifying.

But, at least you’re bored enough to try.

So, what the fuck, right?

“Did you tell Liza and K yet?” 

“No, they would definitely try to set me up with someone real,” you laugh, leaning back on the couch. You wriggle your toes and tilt your head away.

Ry leans back with you with a brow raised, “Isn’t that… the point?”

Yeah, like, true. They have lots of friends they’re always trying to peddle your way, which is cool and all but… it’s a lot harder to pick and choose and ghost someone when you have mutual contacts.

He read the look on your face and nodded slowly, “Got it, got it.” He laughed to himself, perceptive and cautious. He extends his thoughts, “But you gotta tell us if you actually go and meet anyone. K would kill us if you didn’t say anything.”

“I won’t get into any trouble,” you squint, looking away from him mischievously.

“Uh-huh,” Ry affirms plainly as he swipes right on a few cute boys. 

-

Your experience with dating apps was limited–– you made a joke account a while ago and never really did much with it. Then you had a more “real” account that you never tried sincerely with. You had real people you dated at the time–– uhm. But now, now that you’re actually on here looking… it is bleak.

It’s a Saturday night and you’re winding down with a glass of wine swiping through your options. People you actually knew showed up, and you swiped that shit away so fast you almost chucked your phone with it. You flipped through people who looked fake for real, some older dudes, and plenty of people with vibes you didn’t like–– the pool is so wide you almost didn’t know where to start. And you could afford to be picky, sure. It’s just, who knew that “too many options” would actually be a problem.

You spend the next few days idling checking and chatting, not getting any viable catches. You felt like you were just peering into small windows, head in and head out. Nothing caught your attention long enough for you to want to look in further.

You even start poking at things you never wanted to acknowledge as real, like the impact of cheesy bios, and deciphering who was who in group pics, and the thrilling amount of dudes holding up fish.

Pretty wack.

You felt yourself grow tired of it again. The adrenaline was waning, burnt to the stump. Good thing you didn’t try too hard. Pfft.

You sleepily swipe away on your phone, too late into the night. You blink hard as you snuggle into your covers, muttering, 

“Just one more.”

Ah.

>>  check out the whole bio here <<

“T, 23. Friendly, neighborhood romantic,” you whisper to yourself. You crack a small smile.

After countless swipes left, and (1) accidental swipe right, you match with a blurry boy–– super sus, I know. You don’t know how it happened tbh–– there’s nothing to “look” at, but your eyes fell on this one. Maybe because you just watched “Far From Home,” and enjoyed this spidey reference. Or you’re just innately drawn to the word “romantic.” Could be either, easily.

“It’s a match!”

Shit. You mumble, your profile photos floating together. You take a second to look through his meager collection. They were all obscure and blurry and not exactly in the artsy way.

You couldn’t decipher much, only that he had fair skin (?), with dark hair and dark eyes, but even that was questionable. 

You’re pretty sure you matched with a bot or some old dude, or worse, a kid. You can hardly see his face in the pictures, blurry or cropped or covered.

Okay...

Is that his real name? Probably not. Is he actually 23? Doubt it. Is this going to go anywhere? Let’s hope not.

But whatever, it’s the first “match” that has seemed interesting in the past few days, solely on your pickiness. And this random bastards only gets you out of dumb luck.

You rub your eyes, and set down your phone, resigning to your stupidity.

You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Good night.

And the gears were set in motion as you slept.

You had a new message on tinder waiting for you, but you didn’t check the app until much later. You go through your Sunday morning routine, only opening your phone after a light breakfast and stretch. 

“Oh god,” you blink as you catch the red notification. You look around the room, preparing yourself for what could be anything. You take a deep breath and open the chat.

T: Hey

Oh. You stare at it, so bare with no personality to pick at. You wonder if you should even reply, but by the grips of boredom, you do.

You: Hey!

You set your phone down, trying to swallow the short thrill. You walk away for a moment. A reply comes within minutes.

And it’s a goddamn mess.

T: Sorry, i’ve never done this before.

Strike one. You suck in your cheeks. While you’re fairly new at this too, you… don’t know how much time you want to invest it in. Here again, you debate replying back–– but he beats you to it.

T: I’m trying to get over my ex

UHM? Strike two, you almost have to laugh. This is just testing your patience. Your jaw wriggles as you see he has more to say…

T: And you look a lot like her.

Damn. Strike three, he’s out. He’s got to know that would put anyone off, right? Why would you even admit that straight out? T? Come on, man.

You: i’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.

T: it’s an apology now, i didn’t know what to say

You: you could have complimented my killer smile or the pic of me with a dog. Anything but that

T: Right, right. I’m such a dickhead. Sorry, it’s nice to meet you though.

You hold your phone away, debating whether or not you should just delete the entire goddamn thing because this was just too stupid–– but it’s Sunday morning and what do you have left to lose. 

You chew on the side of your lip, deciding to entertain “T,” but don’t spare him any soft words. You’d rather get straight to the point.

You: So… you go by “T?” And don’t have any real pics of your face? Are you even real???

T: Yeah, just private

You: kinda defeats the purpose of putting yourself out there though, right? Lol

T: It’s too easy if i put my face out there

You: oh, ha ha ha. So you’re saying you’re too hot to show your face? Love the confidence dude

And this is where you start actually laughing out loud. You wipe away tears at the side of your eyes, cackling at this display of internet confidence. It’s a tiny piece of amusement from a stranger you have 0 feelings for, and you’re not going to be mean to him… but you’ll definitely poke fun to see how far you can get.

Besides, he’s still replying back right? That’s almost hilarious in itself.

T: Hey, confidence is sexy, right?

You: yeah, more in person than online! 😂 (Laughing emoji)

You take a second to scroll back through his photos, and check to see if he has a link to instagram, twitter, anything. But he doesn’t. You try to pull up any evidence you can–– and at the very least, these blurry pics all look like they’re taken of the same person.

Slight build with dark curled hair–– rippable from any ambiguous online “hot boy” mood board though. 

You’re wary.

You spot a picture with his smile, crinkled eye and lifted lip. You could swear he looked familiar… but maybe that’s because you’ve seen that same white boy/model on Pinterest.

Maybe.

T: wanna meet up and see for yourself?

You: maybe if you show me your face first

T: can’t do that quite yet, but I’d love to keep talking to you

You furrow your brows as you read his words. He would be down to meeting up with you upfront, but hesitates to send you a picture beforehand? That’s definitely a red flag, right? Right?

(Yes. Yes it is.)

You pull yourself back and let out a deep sigh. You’re probably the only person he’s talking to, especially with those purposeful (?) blurry pics and cryptic everything. Ugh.

It’s not playing yourself if you know it’s fake right? You can step out of this at anytime.

You: as long as you can hold my attention :) 

T: I’ll try my very best ✌🏼 (peace sign emoji)

–– and with some very, very loose banter…. you end up exchanging numbers. You’ve put the whole Tinder thing on pause for now–– all four days of it. All for one stranger with no tact.

Unknown Number: hey, this is t (smiley face)

You: pfffft, I’m going to call you Blurry Boy. Since your name obviously isn’t T

BB: that’s fine with me :) mind if i call you darling?

You: ew

BB: o come on. It’s cute

You: please tell me you’re actually 23 or i swear to god I’m going to fucking lose it

BB: I swear 🤞🏼 (fingers crossed emoji)

You: ok. Prove it. Send me a pic of you–– you face or whatever

Ok. That’s a leap. He could rip a picture from anywhere but let’s see how fast he could do it. If it takes too long, then he probably did just rip it from the internet.

And if he makes a mistake and actually sends you a clear pic of himself? Well, that could only be seen as a win.

BB: 

But you are ruthless.

You: ok. Send me another one.

And he could stop if he wanted to.

Only, he doesn’t. In a short moment, he sends another picture.

BB:

Same room, same face, same glasses. I guess you could believe him… for now. No matter how shitty the photos have end up....

But he could also be one of those people with folders full of stock photos… you never know.

But putting paranoia aside, you decide to turn off the heat a lil. You grab your coffee and sit on your couch, sliding into a comfy position. You turn on some YouTube videos on your laptop, watching the first few seconds as you lean your cheek against the couch cushions.

Phew.

You: thanks…. sorry I’m so paranoid. But you truly have the worst pictures of yourself put up there. Potato quality.

BB: nah, i know. I get it. Haha it’s alright, a pretty girl like you needs to protect herself

You: oh BOY that doesn’t make me feel any better 😂(laughing emoji)

BB: fuck, sorry. Ugh that is fuckin creepy. Shit. I’m terrible at texting

You: no, no. It’s alright. Actually, great job with taking those photos so fast. Most people would have taken sooooo much longer. You get a few points for not holding back

BB: babe, i told you. I’m gorgeous. I don’t gotta worry about it 😂😂💕 (laughing emojis)

You: right, right blurry boy. Great job with all those fuzzy ass photos.  🙄 (Eye roll emoji) haha are you really looking for someone out here or…?

BB: sort of. I’m testing out the waters and… you’re really pretty

You have to blink back and roll your eye, you’re unable to digest this conversation as real. They’re flowery words given to you, for sure, but your suspicion is much stronger. Your guard will not let down or be appeased by some blurry ass dude calling you “pretty.”

He replies before you have the chance.

BB: i dont wanna get into the messy details but yeah. Company sounds great right about now

You: yeah, i feel that

It’s a real and valid reply, but it’s a terrible one. It’s so hard for someone to reply back to that–– but you’re testing his perseverance. If he finds something to say back, it might just prove one more thing to you. That he might actually be interested, and someone worth talking to.

BB: sorry i lead with my baggage, I’m a fucking mess

You: *a confident fucking mess

BB: thank you 😇 (angel emoji)

You: don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse

 You laugh darkly to yourself. I’ve been worse.

BB: hahahaha thanks. Ok. But all that aside… real talk now. Can I ask you about the dog in your photo now?

You hate to admit that your lips curled into a smile, as you hastily type back. 

Your coffee was half drank and cold by now. The YouTube video you were supposed to be watching has moved onto part two. 

You eyes are still scanning your text screen, waiting to see those three bouncing dots at the bottom left hand corner. 

He’s not the worst–– and at most, even if this turns out to be fake, this is just your Sunday morning entertainment. Nothing more and nothing less. These are just insignificant texts that will probably lead to a few lost days, or mediocre sex at best.

So, whatever, right?

-

MONDAY MORNING

BB: good morning! ☀️ (sun emoji)

You: well you sure get up early. Good morning 

BB: Haha, I like to start the week as soon as i can. Do you drink coffee or tea in the morning?

You: coffee most days. You?

BB: i drink tea, darling

You: yeah that’s probably better for you haha. Less expensive too.

BB: mhm, definitely cheaper if you come over and i make you a cup

You: wow, the flirting starts the second the sun is up, huh?

BB: what, still too early? 

You: never too early

BB: do you brew the coffee yourself?

You: some mornings. I usually pop into XX Cafe midday if i can.

BB: catch you there? 😂 (laughing emoji) nah, i’ll have to check the place out. I don’t know this area too well.

You: i guess if you can find me! I’m usually in and out pretty fast. Got places to be you know? Hm, did you just move here?

BB: yeah, i got settled in about a week ago

You: staying long?

BB: long enough

You: oh ha ha. Seriously not suspicious at all

BB: yeah I’m in town for a month or two. I’m getting away from work and stress for a minute

You: and you chose here?

BB: quiet enough for me. 😌 (smiley face) and you’re here so that’s a plus

You: relentless

BB: and nothing less.

-

MONDAY EVENING

BB: you haven’t seen that series? You’re crazy

You: whaaat! It’s not my thing. AND i don’t have time for it

BB: it’s a masterpiece, come on! Who doesn’t like laughing? It’s funny! You’ll like it

You: you’re gonna owe me a drink if don’t like it

BB: I’ll gladly buy you one right now if that’s what it takes to get you to watch it

You: ugh, i guess if you recommend it i can tryyyy…

BB: you won’t regret it!

You: ugh you are so annoying. What are you up to right now?

BB: reading emails and talking to you

You: haha what’s so important that you’re reading an email at like 11. Gotta turn on that “do not disturb” dude

BB: I can’t mute the work stuff, unfortunately

You: so if i called you over tonight you wouldn’t be able to? “Because of work?”

BB: you serious? I’m only taking serious offers right now

You: No! It’s monday. Can’t indulge you that early in the week

BB:  what a shame. I’d drop it in a heartbeat for you

You: Nice to know 

BB: I’ve got a feeling that I shouldn’t have told you that (laughing emoji)

You:  😈 (devil emoji)

-

TUESDAY MORNING

BB: good morning!

You: hey! I remembered I had some tea back at my apartment so… just wanted to let you know you had an impact on my day 🙄😊 (eye roll emoji and smiley face emoji)

BB: I could still make a better cup for you 😘 (kissy face emoji)

You: right. What do you have planned today?

BB: hmm, I’m heading out to the gym. Then I might explore the city a bit. Bump into me?

You: well, I don’t know if I could recognize you even if i wanted to

BB: you’ll recognize me

You: haha, okay? Wait, do I know you? –– if this is a prank… 

BB: it’s not! 

You: .. that wouldn’t be cool.

BB: it’s not a prank! There’s just a lot of things I can’t tell you just yet. It’d be a lot easier if we were able to meet up in person.

You: why?

BB: I’m pretty private. It’s really hard for me to just… share certain things with you. But I want to! SO badly! I just can’t send you a whole picture of my face. It’s complicated.

You: Sorry? I don’t get it.

BB: Ahhhh. This is going to sound so bad. I trust you, like as a person. But also I can’t trust you. If you meet me–– you’ll understand why. I’m sorry. 

You: Okay…? And you have to understand that this sounds absolutely batshit to me, right? Like it’s pretty hard to trust you like this. 

BB: yeah I know. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. But honestly, it’s nice to be able to talk to you like this and I hope we can continue to chat. I really do like you.

You: … That is really unfair.

BB: I know! I’m sorry. Give me another day or two–– i have a few things to figure out but, I SWEAR i’m not lying to you. I promise it’ll make sense soon

You: well, if you promise you’re not a creep….

BB: I’m not!

You: and that you’re not using me as a replacement for your ex

BB: I won’t!

You: you are SO lucky i’m patient

BB: and kind. And beautiful. And amazing.

You: you’re pushing it, blurry boy. I just need you to realize how unfair this is.

BB: I do. And I know. I’m sorry.

You: what are you looking for here? With me or with anyone you would have met from the app?

BB: a home away from home

You: yeah i read that in your bio. What does that mean?

BB: I’m looking for someone I can spend time with and trust with my whole heart

You: ha ha

BB: I’m serious. It’s hard to find.

You: you’re a real romantic, that’s for sure

-

TUESDAY EVENING

You: you have a DOG and you didn’t tell me?

BB: what, you’re not interested in the fact that I have younger twin brothers and another 8 years younger than me? ‘Always about Tessa

You: obviously! Send a pic!

BB: 

You: is this from right now?

BB: nah, something I took ages ago. I had to leave her back home with my family.

You: aww, that’s too bad.

BB:  would you come over if she were here?

You: Duh! And I guess you’d have to make me a cup.

BB: sounds lovely. Let’s make it a date

You: ha ha. You miss home?

BB: More than you know. I travel A LOT

You: well, call back often! They would be happy to know you miss them! Loneliness is not a great feeling.

BB: I do, all the time! And definitely not a good feeling. So, it’s really nice to talk to you. Thank you.

You: Sorry, I’m not a very great conversational partner. But still happy to hear that

BB: You are. You’re still here

You: You are too.

BB: You already mean a lot to me

You: Have you been in many relationships? (Or hookups idk)

BB: No, and not really. I’ve only been in a handful of long-term relationships

You: Interesting

BB: What?

You: Just wondering if you are really catching feelings for me

BB: Guilty. You?

You: I don’t think I know enough about you to catch anything. No offense 😬😅(cringe emoji, laughing emoji)

BB: Ha, no. I meant if you’ve been in many relationships?

You: Oh! Sorry. A few of either. Did long-term once. Didn’t work out, obviously–– so here I am. That’s that.

BB: Guess we both have a past to bury

You: Please don’t say anything about “burying yourself into my pussy to feel better”

BB: WHAT. I wasn’t even thinking about that. That’s all you 👀

You: Hey, you’ve been pretty quick all the other times, bud.

BB: If I tell you I want more than just sex, does that make you feel better?

You: It makes me think about the fact that you still want to have sex with me

BB: And I can’t deny that 😊 (smiley blushy face emoji)

-

WEDNESDAY MORNING:

BB: Good morning!

You: Morning! Little later than usual–– sleeping in?

BB: Yeah, since I can afford to. You replied quicker than usual. Were you waiting for me? 😉 (wink emoji)

You: Haha, you wish. I was already on my phone, stud.

BB: Right, right. I can tell you like to play hard to get

You: No I don’t!

BB: 😂 (laughing emoji)

You: I don’t!

BB: Wow, feels great to finally have something to hold over you 

You: I hate you 🙄 (eye roll emoji)

BB: Have a nice day, love 😊🌈(smiley face, rainbow emoji)

-

PING! 

“BB? Who is bb?” Liza asks you on Wednesday evening after seeing a notification pop up on your phone. She grabs it off the sticky cafe table and looks at you with her pretty head tilted.

Oh––

You wiggle your jaw, and raise your brows,

 “No one important.” 

You take your phone back and open the message discreetly. It’s nothing special, you’re sure, but you have to look.

BB: so have you seen the last episode yet????? Hello??

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” She pleads, putting down the drink in her hands. You were at the mall, idly walking and taking a short break. She looks at you pointedly, eyes darting around your face for any spot of weakness, as she quietly whines, “You didn’t tell us anything about this…”

“It’s because I’m not––”  You offer, nodding. You flip your phone upside down as the message lights up again. “–– seeing anyone.”

She gives you a squinted look of total disbelief.

You’ve been messaging “Blurry Boy” nonstop for the past few days. First you talked about nothing, and now you’re asking each other about how your day was going and what you’re doing now, and what you’re doing later. 

You always find something. Your phone is constantly by your side, sound on.

And there’s a layer of real time now, now that you’ve gotten to know him and his schedule better.

You learn that he has his own cute dog name Tessa and that his family fosters dogs back home, and that he’s the oldest, with twin brothers and a younger one he’s been trying desperately to relate to. You find out that his favorite color is black and that he’s in deep shit for stealing his best friend’s fav hoodie. All of this makes him feel like someone you know, someone you could call a friend.

He feels like more than just some guy you’ve talked to waaaay too long from Tinder.

And what’s worse, is that he knows certain things about you too. He knows that you don’t like sleeping in the dark and that you’re borderline addicted to iced coffee. That you like rewatching old romcoms and classic spooky movies… That your back hurts from work and that you have a fucking dentist appointment on Thursday. 

You know a lot more about each other than less. And that’s kinda really fucking weird.

“You’re always smiling at your phone,” Liza says flatly, picking her drink back up to take a long and loud sip. Major side-eye. “‘Fess up.”

“No, I’m not!” You say through your teeth, trying to not smile. But under her stare you melt and crack under pressure.

You keep telling yourself that you’ll stop replying–– that he’s super sus and this isn’t going anywhere. But… you just keep texting him back.

“It’s nothing, seriously.”

“Let me see,” she pouts. “Pleeeease.” She flaps her hands at you, wriggling her fingers.

“No!”

Even though you know that it’s a losing game with her, you try to put up a fight, turning away and holding your phone tightly. You have onlookers now from the squealing, kicking and creaking chairs.

You give in after a minute.

You hand your phone in defeat as you readjust yourselves. You clear your throat.

“Okay, okay. But this is like, not serious at all, okay.” You rationalize as you show her the pictures you had screenshot and saved from him. “I barely know him.”

Barely! You’ve chanted that in your head over and over. Not enough to know if you want to get to know him, or what to drop him. That’s the purgatory you’ve been living in.

Liza is uncharacteristically quiet as she scrolls up and down the chats and flips through the pictures. Her hair covers whatever expression she’s making.

That makes you nervous, and you start babbling.

“Yeah, I mean. I don’t think he’s real or anything–– It’s just for fun and it’s whatever. I don’t even care.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

She freezes on a picture of him. The one where you can see a part of his smile and a crinkled eye. She zooms in and pauses again.

?

“Babe?” Her voice is cautious and slow. God. You don’t want to hear what she has to say next with this tone of voice…

“Hm?” You attempt to perk up, hiding the fact that you just gulped with nerves. It feels like you’re holding something sour in your mouth.

I don’t like this...

“So, he seems like a super nice guy and all but…” She speaks gingerly and wide eyed.

“But what?” You feel yourself recoil. 

As much as you talk a big game… it would still hurt to have this illusion shattered. This self-inflicted fantasy. You don’t want her to keep going. 

But you can guess what’s coming next.

...

“I… I think he’s using pictures of Tom Holland.”

…

…

…

Wait…...

What?!

-

A.N: WAH! she’s back!! well, as much as she can be. haha i know i have a million things always running at the same time but... i really will just ride the wave of inspiration as it comes.... that’s all i can do. anyway, hope you like this series! it’s going to be an exploration of starting new relationships in your young adulthood–– and how to handle be “The one” after “The One.” it’ll be a good time.

Thank you guys for reading! Please like, comment and reblog :) You’re all amazing. 

Much Love,

Madmadmilk 💫

** i do NOT keep up with a taglist. track #one after the one to keep up with the updates, or check out my masterlist! thanks! 

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 6

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

This chapter is more of a filler, but it’s got some really important details in it.

Word Count: 2,857

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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

CHAPTER SIX

It’s been a long two weeks. Between work and friends, Zoey didn’t feel like she had any days off to relax. Ever since their double date, Brett and Zoey have been hanging out a lot more. It seemed like he was over practically every day to hang out with her and her roommates. He’d occasionally come over before his shift started, but more often than not it was late at night after she got off to have a game night, and Nancy and Rory would wait up for them to join. The girls quickly became fond of him and formed a friendship much like hers with Harry.

They were all constantly making plans to hang out, and although she had so much fun with them, Zoey felt like she rarely had a moment to herself anymore. The only time she felt like she had a minute to breathe or think was her morning phone calls with Harry. Sure, they texted occasionally throughout the day, but that phone call was the time when both of them could sit down, talk, and reflect on what was going on in their lives. 

Harry seemed to be going through a rough patch. She missed him before he left the last time he came out as he had to be up super early the following morning so he didn’t miss his flight, but he did call Zoey when he landed to fill her in on the details of the conversation she caught him and Rory having.

Rory was honest with him and told him how she felt. She liked him, but she didn’t want to be with someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to be with her. She understood his hesitation because of his past experiences with relationships while on tour, but she didn’t appreciate being grouped in the same category with his exes. She told Harry that she had no problem waiting if that’s what he wanted, but only if he was sure he wanted her. Otherwise, he’s just wasting her time. 

“I’m not giving you an ultimatum or making you choose right this second because that’s not fair,” Rory said to him, “I’ll give you some space and time to figure it out. We can still talk and be friendly in the meantime, but I’m not going to wait forever.”

No one could fault her, and Zoey respected the hell out of her for standing her ground and noticing her own self-worth, but Harry was really struggling to decide what he wanted to do. To him, it wasn’t as simple as it was for most people. He has eyes on him at all times. Not only does he have to navigate the ups and downs of a relationship, but he has to do so in the public eye. He had to find a way to protect the sanctity of his relationship from the press and people with malicious intent and he had to somehow find a way to shield his partner from negative media and online attention because the hate is inevitable. To him, relationships were terrifying.

Zoey helped by listening to his rants and concerns, offering bits of advice, but always remaining neutral. No matter how many times Harry asked her what he should do, Zoey refused, telling him it was his decision to make while always reminding him to stop overthinking everything and to live the life he wanted without worrying about what might go wrong. Easy for her to say. She’s not famous.

Luckily, Rory kept her word in not putting any pressure on him to make a decision. They still spoke and flirted every now and then, though it wasn’t as often as before. Most of their conversations these days consisted of work-related things or Rory filling him in on all of the fun she was having with the girls, Andy, and Brett. She was spending a lot more time with Zoey’s new friends, and from what Rory said, it sounded like Zoey was having a lot of sleepless nights with Brett.

Zoey’s sex life was never really a topic of discussion when they spoke. She never really went into detail or stayed on the subject no matter how much Harry tried to pry. Of course, he knew they saw each other, but the only reason he knew when Brett spent the night was because Nancy or Rory mentioned hanging out with him and how he stayed over. During their text conversations, Zoey always seemed so nonchalant and never alluded to the fact that Brett was even there. She didn’t care to talk about their ‘relationship’ much, and he couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying to hide the fact that she was actually falling for him, or because she really didn’t care and it was just as casual as she intended it to be. The only thing Harry managed to get out of her was that she wasn’t a fan of his kissing. Either way, she was great at keeping her private life private, which was something he respected, all things considered.

Finally, it was Friday, and the last week of May, so Andy, Brett, and Zoey decided to go to the beach early in the morning so they had enough time before work tonight. Nancy and Rory tagged along, for once not having any work they needed to do. The sun beamed brightly, not a cloud in sight. It was only 80 degrees. Not too hot, not too cold. It was the perfect beach day. Andy helped Zoey apply suntan lotion to her back as Nancy and Rory sprayed each other down and Brett didn’t bother, laying out everyone’s towels on the hot, golden sand beside their beach bags.

At first, the group stayed on their towels, letting the sun warm up their skin and adjust to the temperatures. Eventually, Nancy, Zoey, and Andy made their way to the water, leaving Brett and Rory to tan. They eased their way into the ocean until waist level, waves whipping at their hips. An hour in and they had gotten more comfortable, diving underwater, laughing as they pretended to be mermaids, screeching whenever seaweed brushed against their legs and sputtering as the salty water had gotten into their mouths. Rory and Brett had finally joined them, but it didn’t take long before they all headed back to their setup, letting the sun dry them off.

The beach had always been Zoey’s happy place. She had always been the happiest in the water. It’s why she was on the swim team in school and why she frequently slept at Jess’s house to enjoy her pool. Her parents used to call her their little fish when she was a kid because she could be in the water all day. Jess was the first to get her license, and every day off in the summer since Jess turned sixteen, she’d drive the two of them to the beach just for Zoey. It was nearly a three-hour drive just to get there. They’d be up and out the door by 6 AM just so they could be there by 9, and wouldn’t leave until long after the sun had set just to do it all over again the next day. Every now and then they’d get lucky enough to rent a hotel, but they never complained about the drive. It was worth it to Jess if it made Zoey happy. It became their tradition to see how many times they could make it down to the beach in one summer and if they could top it. It’s been a year since she’s been to the beach. And it’s just as amazing as she remembers it being.

Brett had brought a football and they all were tossing it around to each other in an unofficial game of football. Zoey screamed as he ran up, scooping her into his arms and tackling her into the sand, laughing as sand shot up into their face from the impact on the ground and covered their bodies. 

“Absolutely not! I saved that!” Zoey exclaimed, lightly smacking Brett’s sweaty, back as he pushed himself off of her.

“Tell that to the ball on the ground,” Brett shot back, panting and scooping a heaping pile of sand onto her stomach in retaliation causing Andy and Rory to laugh.

A ringtone was heard in the distance by their towels and Nancy called back, “Someone’s phone is ringing!” as she jogged towards their stuff, rummaging through the bags. She pulled out Zoey’s phone, looked at the screen and held it up, calling, “It’s Harry!”

“Answer it!” Zoey called back, standing up and dusting the sand off of herself.

Nancy plopped down on the towels as everyone slowly caught their breath, making their way over towards her. She answered the phone on speaker and put on her best stern voice, “How come you never call me?”

“Who’s this?” she heard Harry’s muffled voice from a few feet away, “Nancy?”

“I’m clearly Susan Sarandon. You can’t tell by my voice?” she joked as Andy, Brett, and Rory had sat around her, the rumble of voices and children laughing surrounding them.

Harry laughed, ignoring her, “That’s a lie. I just called you yesterday!”

“That’s true. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, going to be heading to soundcheck soon. Where’s Zoey?”

“Here!” Zoey called, finally reaching the edge of the towels, hovering over everyone.

“Where are you? It sounds loud?” Harry asked.

“We’re at the beach,” Nancy spoke, “Everyone’s here except you. Me, Zoey, Rory, Andy, and Brett.”

“Am I on speaker?”

“Yeah, say hi!”

The group sang a chorus of greetings while Harry responded an almost shy “hello” back. Zoey smiled, extending her hand out and grabbing her phone as Nancy passed it over to her. She placed it to her chest and turned to Brett, softly saying, “Hey, I’m getting hungry. Can you grab us some lunch? I’ll pay you back.”

“Yeah, no worries. I can pay. Anyone want to come with?”

“I’ll go!” Nancy offered, standing up.

“Yeah, I’ll help,” added Rory.

Andy scoffed, “My ass is staying right here. But I will take a slice of pepperoni pizza, please,” he slid his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose and slid back onto his beach chair.

As soon as the three were off, Zoey took her phone off speaker and brought it to her ear, walking towards the dunes where there were fewer people and it was slightly quieter. 

“Sorry, I’m here,” she spoke, “they’re gone.”

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to interrupt. You can get back to them.”

“Shut up,” Zoey laughed, dragging her feet in the sand as she spoke, “What’s up?”

“We were going over the next few cities we’ll be in, and guess where I’ll be next weekend,” Harry said excitedly.

“New York?” Zoey guessed.

“Well, yeah. But I’ll also be in Philadelphia next Saturday.”

“Philly?” Zoey gasped, halting in her tracks, “You’ll be maybe twenty minutes from my family.”

“It’s that close? Where did you live?”

Zoey sat in the sand, knees to her chest, and told Harry about her hometown and where she grew up. She scooped sand in her free hand and watched as it fell to the ground like a sand shower as she recalled memories of her and Jess running around their town as teenagers and all of the trouble they got into. And Harry listened, interested in every detail. 

Somehow they got onto the subject of Zoey’s past childhood boyfriends, where she had her first kiss and her first heartbreak. This eventually led to a conversation about Brett. It’s not that she avoided talking about Brett, but there was nothing to really say about him. They hung out. They screwed. That was it for the most part. Except there was a little news about him this time.

“He asked me on another date,” Zoey informed him.

“What, a double date again?”

“No, one on one.”

Harry paused in thought before speaking, “I’m confused. I don’t get what’s going on between you two.”

Zoey laughed, “I don’t either.”

He continued, “I mean, you say it’s just a casual thing. Hanging out and fucking around. So what’s the point in going on a date if that’s all it is? Or is it more than that?”

Zoey pursed her lips and blew hard, making a horse snorting sound before groaning and resting her head on her forearm that was resting on her knees, “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s more than that, but it seems like it’s getting more serious. I mean he stays over so often we should start charging him rent. I feel like I see him more than Nancy and Rory between work and home.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Harry asked, curiously.

“I don’t know,” she whined, sitting back up, “The girls love him and he’s a lot of fun. And he’s getting better at the kissing thing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s still work to do, but he gets the job done if you know what I mean. Oh my god, speaking of,” Zoey started cackling to herself, “we got caught yesterday.”

“What do you mean ‘you got caught’?” Harry chuckled at the vagueness.

“At work.”

“At work?!” Harry repeated, the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end as if he had quickly sprung up from a seat.

She nodded to herself, wiping away a tear that teetered at the corner of her eye, which was probably a mistake because she now felt sand on her cheek, remembering the incident last night.

“Oh shit! My bad!” Andy apologized to her, shoving the beer bottles he carried into the crook of her arm and wiping at the wet spot he had left on Zoey’s black shirt when he collided into her after she suddenly appeared from the storage closet.  “I was looking for you. You alright? You look like you’ve been crying.” He asked, noticing her flushed face and loose strands of hair dangling from her messy bun.

The storage closet door suddenly opened beside them and Brett stepped out, forehead beaded with sweat, hair tousled, lips red raw, straightening out his shirt. Brett paused when he saw the two standing there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Andy’s eyes shot between the two as realization sunk in and he groaned.

“Jesus Christ!” Andy whispered, “Y'all are nasty!”

Brett chuckled and winks as he scooted past them, returning to the busy bar to finish off his shift.

“Sorry, Andy!” Zoey sheepishly smiled, biting her lip.

Andy shook his head, laughing in amusement, “At least one of us has a good sex life. Fix your hair. You look crazy,” he walked away.

Zoey shook her head, snapping back to the present and she chortled, trying to stifle her laughter as she looked over to see all of her friends back on the towels and enjoying their lunch together. 

“It was just a quickie in the storage closet, but we ran into Andy on the way out and it was super embarrassing. I mean, at least it was just Andy and not our manager, but still,” she explained.

“You couldn’t wait a few hours?” Harry laughed.

Zoey giggled, “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

The two finished catching up and Zoey wished him good luck before ending the phone call and heading back to her friends. There was a slight burning feeling on her shoulder blade as the suntan lotion began to wear off and knew she’d have a sunburn tonight. She tossed her phone back in the beach bag and took a spot between Nancy and Rory while the group had laughed about something Andy had said. 

Andy looked over at Zoey and smiled at her grin, “You and Harry talk a lot,” he noted.

“Yeah,” Zoey nodded, picking up her slice of pizza that had now cooled down, though had a little dusting of sand on the top, “We’ve been through a lot of similar situations, so it’s easy to talk to him about it.”

Andy nodded, understandingly, being the only one that knew of Jess. Aurora nodded in agreement, “I like how quickly our little friend group formed and how well we all get along.”

Nancy laughed, “Could you imagine we all hated each other?”

“Imagine them thinking I don’t hate them,” Andy joked, turning towards Zoey and scoffing which caused Nancy to pounce on him. 

This caused an all-out war and Zoey laughed as Nancy chased Andy towards the water and Brett had practically dragged Rory behind them, letting Zoey finish her lunch, happy to be with friends. But she couldn’t help to feel that pang of sadness as she thought about how much Jess would have loved to be apart of this, too. 

The realization hit, nearly knocking the wind out of her. In just over a week it would be Jess’s birthday. The one year anniversary of her best friend’s death. And the happiness she felt just moments before was replaced with gloom. How was she going to manage this?

KEEP READING

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Catching Feelings 9/10 (Keanu x OFC)

Summary: AU in which Keanu is down on his luck after he comes to Hollywood trying to be an actor. To earn some money, he joins this app for escorts and meets Steph, a rising star who hires him to try to forget her ex. Neither of them is expecting to fall in love and all the problems it brings. Previous chapters:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Author’s Notes: This might be my favorite chapter so far. I’m very proud of how it turned out. Just to be safe, keep your tissues close.

Wordcount: 3377

Warnings: angst and mentions of alcohol 

“So, I heard back from the producers,” Jean started tone just a little hesitant and Steph got up from her seat, rolling her eyes.

She already knew what the next words would be. He had been her agent and publicist for a few months and she learned to recognize when he was about to break the news of another no.

“They said you great but…”

“Not what they’re looking for?” she completed with a bitter snort and Jean nodded, grimacing. “In other words, you’re radioactive and we want nothing to do with you. I don’t know why I even bother anymore.”

“Steph…” he started with that unsufferable sympathetic tone and she could feel his gaze on her as she paced in his office. “We gonna get through this. You just need…”

“To be patient and persevere,” she cut him off, repeating the words she had been hearing for the past six months. Even since her career imploded with the whole Keanu fiasco.

For weeks her face had been plastered in every trashy magazine that existed, her name associated with a sex scandal. Because she dared to fall in love with a man that happened to be an escort.

The first blow she suffered was the call from Judy, the woman had been with Steph since the beginning of her career. She ranted at Steph for being stupid enough to put herself in that position and offered a solution that was basically throwing Keanu under the bus. Tell the press that she had no idea he was an escort. Steph wouldn’t do it. This was her mess, not his.

Judy quitted after that, leaving Steph without an agent or publicist to help her navigate through this mess. Fortunately, Jean had been a lifesaver and took Steph under his wing, working out all the necessary statements and helping her dodge most of the press.

The second blow came on Monday when Fincher was waiting for Steph at the set with an added scene on his script. They were killing off her character. To keep the integrity of the work, he said. It made more sense…

Even he didn’t believe his own words and Steph just wanted to scream and hit someone. This had been a dream project for her, and they were casting her aside like she was nothing. And even though it cost her a hefty penalty for contract breach, Steph never regretted walking out of the set and refusing to shoot the metaphorical death of her career.

Instead, she flew back home and discovered it was true what they said: you only knew your real friends when shit hit the fan. Ad companies ended contracts with her; production companies that had offered her parts in upcoming movies pulled back their offers; people she had worked before, that knew her, and that Steph always considered close friends, and cut off communication with her. Only a handful remained in the end, among them Vincent, Jean, and Gwen. Everyone else bailed and Steph couldn’t believe how naïve she was to believe that they were her friends.

“Maybe it’s time I face the truth, Jean,” she sighed, looking out the window in his office. In the distance, she could see the Hollywood sign in the Hills she called home. “If I can’t even get a secondary character in a cheesy rom-com, my career is over.”

“No!” he protested, getting up to stand beside her. “You made only one mistake in this whole thing,” Jean said, laying his hands on her arms, making Steph look at him. “You pushed away the man you love. Everything else? That’s judgmental bullshit from a hypocritical business and I’m not gonna let them punish you for falling in love.”

There was determination in his handsome face. His eyes shone with it as he let go of Steph and moved back to his desk, shifting things around until he came up with a stack of papers and handed it Steph. It was a script and she recognized the writer and director’s name: Katheryn Gerwig.

“They sent it in for another actress I’m representing,” he explained. “It’s an independent movie, very low budget, unlike anything you’ve ever done, but it is the main character and Gerwig is a genius.”

“What about your other client?” Steph asked, looking back to Jean.

“I’ll just make sure she had a schedule conflict,” he assured with a wink, making Steph smile thankfully, before pulling him into a hug. “You might want to give up on yourself, darling, but I’m not there yet. So, read it and if you like it, I’ll set up a meeting with Gerwig.”

---

Steph changed positions on her chair for the sixth time in the last five minutes, her fingers restlessly rearranging every single item there was in the table, trying to work out the energy thrumming through her.

She hadn’t felt this nervous since her first audition ten years ago, coming back to acting after dropping out at age 13. At least back then the only reputation she had was of child starlet that gave up the spotlight for a normal teenager life. Now, even months later, she knew they still referred to her as the former raising star that had to pay for love.

Steph was tired of it; the whispers and snide comments, but she was determinate to keep her head high. That was why this meeting was so important. If this didn’t work, if Gerwig wouldn’t take her, she would be done. Steph would rather get out in her own terms than everyone else’s.

Checking the time again, Steph considered asking the waiter for something stronger than orange juice. Even if it was 10 in the morning. Maybe decided against it. Her worst decisions had been made thanks to alcohol. Instead, she looked out at the view, trying to see it the rhythmic movements of the waves would soothe her racing heart.

Gerwig had scheduled this meeting at a seaside restaurant Steph had never heard of before. It was small and intimate and more importantly, out of the way enough that most people around had better things to do than worry about potential celebrities hanging around. Aside from that, the view was fantastic and if the smell waffling from the kitchen was any indication, the food was too. This could easily become Steph’s new favorite spot. If this meeting went well.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, dear,” Gerwig spoke, startling Steph. “No need to get up,” she said before dropping on the chair in front of her, taking off her hat.

The woman that sat before Steph was impressive. Not only because she was stunning; Her sand blonde hair waving in the soft breeze, a few grey strands shining against the sun. Her blue eyes were startling bright and showed a sort of keen intelligence that seemed to pierce through her. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth spoke of a life well-lived, full of laughter and challenges.

Steph didn’t know why, but she immediately liked Gerwig. It was almost as if she had found a kindred spirit and something inside her connected at a deeper level with the older woman before her.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Steph said, suddenly feeling like a beginner meeting their idol. “Thank you so much for meeting me, Mrs. Gerwig.”

“Of course,” she replied with a kind smile. “Call me Katheryn. I’ve always hated Gerwig. It’s my ex-husband's name.”

“Sure.” Steph nodded quickly, her own smile nervous and hesitant as Katheryn asked for a mimosa. Apparently, unlike Steph, the older woman had no qualms on drinking before noon.

“I have to say, dear, a lot of people advised me against taking this meeting,” Katheryn declared, sipping her drink. “So, before we talk about my movie, I want to understand why.” She set her glass aside, entwining her fingers together and resting her chin on top of them, watching Steph with her full attention. “Tell me everything.”

And Steph did. Much like she had done to Vincent, she shared every detail of what happened between her and Keanu and the aftermath of it until they reached that particular moment of her life, struggling to get a role in anything worth wanting to be part of.

“That’s it?” Katheryn asked once Steph fell silent, and the young actress nodded. “For fuck sake! The way my producer was speaking, I thought you murdered someone or something. Definitely something more serious than falling in love with a hooker.”

She clicked her tongue in something like disappointment. If with the fact that Steph’s story wasn’t as juicy as she expected or that her producer made a bigger deal of it than necessary, Steph couldn’t tell.

“Honestly, if the roles were reversed, it would be a fairytale. He would be Richard Gere and you Julia Roberts,” Katheryn continued with an eye-roll. “This is why I hate Hollywood.”

“You don’t care, then?” Steph asked hopefully and Katheryn shook her head, gesturing to for the waiter to bring her another mimosa. “So, you let me audition for the role of Sarah?”

“That’s another matter entirely, dear,” Katheryn replied, looking back at Steph. “I took a look at your work and you weren’t exactly what I was envisioning for the role. Don’t get me wrong, you’re great, but I was thinking of something more subtle.”

“Oh.” It was all Steph could say. She really didn’t expect that it would be her career itself that would take this role from her and not what happened.

“I hope you understand,” Katheryn said with a sympathetic smile. “I need raw emotion, but not something too overt or explicit. I need…” she paused, deep I thought. “You know what the title of my movie means?” She asked and Steph shook her head. “That word, Saudade, it’s Portuguese. There’s no translation to English, but it conveys a sort of nostalgic longing for a place, a memory, a person. Like…”

“Like it’s a part of you that you’re missing?” Steph said, her gaze looking away from the woman in front of her.

To an onlooker, it would seem like she was just admiring the ocean extending in front of her. The blue waters that seemed to mix with the bright skies. The fluffy white bubbles whenever the waves crashed on the shore. The boats in the distance and the couples walking hand in hands through the wet sand… It made the scene look like a painting.  However, Steph’s gaze was actually lost, unseeing as she searched for the words to describe the feeling Katheryn was talking about.

“It feels almost as if they left a hole in your soul, shaped like them and that never full heals,” she sighed, feeling the tears brimming in her eyes. “Most days, it just a dull ache and you can actually trick yourself into forgetting and not noticing. If you’re busy enough if you work hard enough, it makes you believe that maybe… maybe one day… you’ll be fine and it will be over. But then…” her voice broke as the lump in her throat grew, making it harder for Steph to bring the words forth, but she had to do this. Digging her fingers on her knees under the table, she wetted her lips and continued.

“Then you see something that belonged to them or heard their name or smell their scent and… Sometimes I believe that’s what time travel must be like because you’re there. Back at that place with them and it’s so sweet because you can feel how happy you used to be, but at the same time, God! It hurts. That kind of throbbing, pulsing pain. All compassing and consuming. Suddenly, it’s all you know again, and you can’t believe how you thought, even for a second, that it wouldn’t hurt anymore. Because it’s a piece of you that’s missing and it’s the most human thing to want to feel complete, but you can’t. Not anymore. Not without him.”

Steph let out a shuddering exhale, ducking her head to wipe away the tears that managed to escape while she swallowed around the knot on her throat before she turned to look at Katheryn and the other woman had tear tracks marking her cheeks as she watched Steph.

“Is that what you mean?”

“Yes,” Katheryn nodded, a smile gracing her lips as she reached across the table, catching Steph’s hand and squeezing lightly. “You understand. I think you understand Sarah better than I could ever hope to write her. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you’re exactly what I need.”

“Thank you.” Steph’s lips tilted into a smile too. Katheryn had a point. She never felt this connected to a character before.

“We’ll start shooting in Toronto in two weeks. Think you can be ready by then?”

“Yes.” Steph nodded, satisfaction and happiness filling her heart. “I’ll be there.”

----

Steph never had an experience quite like this shooting a movie, but she loved it. Jean wasn’t kidding when he said it was a low budget independent movie. Katheryn crew was tiny and the entire thing was shot in a single location, this two-store house in Toronto, using one single camera.

All of it meant long hours of shooting, especially since Katheryn liked wide angles and long takes so Steph felt this incredible pressure not to screw up. She was the protagonist. The entire concept of the movie depended on her doing her job right.

In the end, it was an incredible thing. After a month of working intensely and living in close quarters with the rest of the cast and crew, Steph grew close with all of them. She knew the names and birthdays of the DP’s children and all the cameraman allergies… They had become a second family to her and when they finally wrapped up filming, even though Steph was exhausted and in desperate need for long hours of sleep, she accompanied them to this local club so they could celebrate.

It wasn’t an official wrap party, then didn’t have the funds for that. Just a bunch of friends trying to find a way to fit at a too-small table in an overcrowded club with overpriced beer and some nice rock tunes.

Basically, it was all Steph needed after the dreadful year she was having. No one could blame her for letting lose, drinking a tiny bit too much – not quite like the night with Jean, Vincent, and Keanu – but just enough to make her tipsy and overfriendly, hugging people left and right, much to Katheryn’s amusement.  

She danced to the music played by the band on the stage and even agreed to a couple of selfies from one or two people that recognized her, before retreating to the table, tired, sweaty and dizzy, but very happy.

“When we back to LA, we need to do this in a proper bar,” she commented to Katheryn, who had kept up with her the entire night and the older woman laughed and nodded, clinking her beer bottle against Steph’s.

She drained her beer, before getting to her feet again and stumbling towards the restroom, getting stuck in line for ten minutes, until she could finally step out of the warm, smoky bar, into the slightly cooler air of the restroom, which was a reprieve despite the faint smell of urine and disinfectant.

Steph took her time relieving herself, washing her hands and retouching her makeup, faintly hearing the muffled sounds of the new band presenting themselves before they started to play. She bobbed her head a bit at the very little she could hear while she applied another layer of lipstick and stepped out just as they finished the first song.

She didn’t know why she didn’t glance at the stage on her way to the bar to pick up a new beer, even if the first accords of the new song was so pleasing. She was happy she didn’t because when a familiar voice reached her ears, one that Steph never thought she would hear in a million years, she froze, beer bottle halfway to her lips, eyes wide, staring at nothing.

She didn’t know the song itself, but she had heard enough Dogstar before the entire mess with Keanu that Steph could recognize Brett’s voice. Shaking, she turned around to face the stage, her gaze instinctively finding Keanu and her breath caught in her throat as she watched him.

His hair was longer again, curling by his nape, sticking to his sweaty forehead. His jaw was covered with a spotty beard that shouldn’t look that charming. His broad shoulders ripped and moved as he played, making the black t-shirt he was wearing stretch over his strong chest and biceps. His jeans, as usual, were tighter than needed, displaying muscular legs and, if his red bass wasn’t positioned right in front of his crotch, Steph knew she would be able to see the generous volume of his cock too.

Somehow she much had forgotten how gorgeous he was because Steph couldn’t bear to look away from him as her heart rabbited in her chest as if trying to burst from her ribcage and butterflies fluttered in her stomach, especially when he joined on the back vocal, his voice barely audible, but enough to make her knees weak.

She leaned against the bar, gaze fixed on the band in front of her, completely oblivious to Katheryn approaching her, calling her name. Not until the woman shook her shoulder and Steph finally tore her eyes away, blinking away the wetness in them. Katheryn looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on her and she glanced back at the stage.

“It’s him?” she asked, and Steph nodded, holding her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from quivering. “Which one?”

“The bassist,” she whispered, eyes returning to him, watching the wide smile in his face, the one she had only seen when he was on his bike or with her.

“Do you want to leave?”

“No,” Steph gasped, once again unable to take her eyes away from him. “I’ve always wanted to watch him play.”

Katheryn nodded, squeezing her arm gently before retreating to the table, leaving Steph alone to watch the band, but mostly Keanu. The way he bounced over the stage, grinning like a manic, playing around with his mates and some of the audience. He was a natural, completely in his element, like he was born to be there and Steph was so happy he had found a way to make this work.

At the end of their set, Dogstar thanked everyone and announced that they had CDs for sale in the back before disappearing into the bowels of the club. Part of Steph was sad that it was over. She could spend the entire day listening to them, so she located the table with the merchandising, grabbing a CD and a t-shirt, before stepping outside for some fresh air and to recompose herself.

It was one thing Katheryn to see her like this, shaking and troubled. She knew the entire story, but the rest of the cast and crew only knew bits and pieces. Not because she was ashamed, but because it was still too hard to talk about it.

Steph exhaled slowly, the cold air grounding her to the present, keeping her from getting lost into memories of Keanu. And as long as she was grounded and kept a level head, she could stop herself from seeking him out. He didn’t want to see her. He made that very clear in that hotel in Paris.

“Steph?” She shivered at the sound of his voice saying her name. She missed that. She missed him. So, so much.

Slowly, Steph turned to look at him, her hands shaking so much the plastic case of the CD rattled a little. There he was, tall and strong and perfect and she couldn’t help but think about the title of the movie she just finished shoot: Saudade. That was what she felt, her insides yearning for that lost piece of her and she wished there was a way to tell him.

“Hi Keanu,” she said instead. What else could she say when there were so much, but not enough words?

xxx (tbc) xxx

Go to chapter 10

Permanent Tag List (give me a shout if you want to added or removed)

@toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @theolsdalova @krazycags01 @beyond-antares @cumberbatchbaps @sgt-morgan @futuristic-imbecile @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day @fanficsrusz @nonsensicalobsessions @poisonedjoinery  @penwieldingdreamer @alwaydreamingofu @partypoison00 @hnryycvll @soarocks @a-really-bi-girl​

Tag List for Catching Feelings (give me a shout if you want to be added or removed)

@baphometwolf666​ @thesadvampire​ 

[sandpumpkin]

Bon Voyage

Well here it is! The start of a slippery slope. How did I come to be on Crocodile’s ship? Well here it is. 

The Beginning.

Bon Voyage.

This island was quiet and seemingly quaint but it was governed by the marines, very corrupt marines which could make life very difficult if you didn’t watch what you did. Hana lived out on the cape overseeing the town. It had a nice view and was away from everyone: exactly how she liked it. 

One morning she was outside hanging out some washing when she noticed a human shaped lump on the small beach nearby. She ran down the slope to the hidden portion of the beach. Slowly approaching the form which was already bound in bandages and only wearing a pair of torn purple trousers. Kneeling down she gently tried to wake the man. She couldn’t carry him, he was well over a 2 foot taller than her. “Hello...Are you awake?” 

He jolted up right and yelled in shock which made Hana yell back in alarm. 

“-Good you’re not dead...Are you okay?” she asked, trying to calm her heart beat. 

“I’m alive!!!” he cheered, jumping to his feet with a new wave of life only to flop back down to the sand and wailed loudly “I’m alive.” he looked at her with tears and snot running down his face and moved to grab her hands but she scurried away quickly. 

“I’m glad you’re alive and stuff but can you just you know-” she gestured to his face and he wiped the snot off with his bandaged arm, which did make her grimace “Can you walk?” she asked, pushing herself up “It’s probably  not best to stay out in the open being a criminal and all.” 

“HOW DID YOU KNOW?!” Hana held out her hand and struggled to pull him up onto his feet, and helped him across the sand, 

“This land is owned by the marines. They make sure we all know who not to trifle with. Though to be fair. I’m more scared of the marines than pirates.” The tall man wheezed as he climbed the steep slope, “I recognise your face but I’m afraid your name eludes me.”

“Be- Bon Clay.” he corrected quickly, “I escaped from Impel Down.” Bon clay added quietly expecting her to push him back down the slope. 

“Impel Down? Oh right there was a prison break wasn’t there? That whole fiasco proved the marines aren’t exactly right...Killing someone to start a war? Because he was related to Roger...that’s unfair and cruel.” she rambled “I’m sorry! I haven’t introduced myself. Hana. Self proclaimed pumpkin.” 

“You’re not going to turn me in?” he asked curiously, rising to his full height once they finally reached the top of the cliff. She looked back at him with a comforting smile,

“I just said I didn’t like the marines right?” she chuckled “I live alone and there’s space so you can stay until you’re better,” Hana said, opening the front door, “Do you have anyone to try and call?”

Bon Clay nodded “My old Boss Crocodile-”

“Oh! The shichibukai? I have his poster somewhere too.” she hummed guiding him to the living room for him to sit down. “I’ll get you a towel...I can make you some clothes. I think in the meantime I have only skirts-”

“Oh that would be great! Skirts are so much better.” Bon said ecstatically. Making Hana laugh 

“Well I have some you can borrow.”

The coming weeks Bon Clay and Hana became quite close friends. He was surprised to hear she had very few friends nearby. They chatted into the night, he helped her around the house allowing her to work on her sewing jobs a little more and he even cooked for her. Both had gone without someone to talk to for quite some time. 

-

Crocodile sat in his large throne-like desk chair milling over maps and drinking expensive red wine, in blissful silence other than the waves that gently crashed against the hull of the ship.

“Boss! There’s a call!” Crocodile grimmanced as his door was flung open “Someone called Mr 2?” 

“Hmm, that fool is still alive?” he mumbled rising slowly to his feet and walked out of the room. Descending the stairs to the Den den mushi that sat in a tree trunk in the centre of the deck “Bentham.”

“Boss?! Surprise! Funny I managed to escape Magellan! I ended up washed up on this cute island! Can you come collect me?”

“Try and keep a low profile.” Crocodile warned dropping the receiver of the snail phone to the crew member that was on phone duty “Get the coordinates.” he ordered and retreated back to his cabin. 

A few weeks later - 

“Boss!” Bon gasped at the tall broad figure of his former boss walking through the town he skipped happily towards him “Bonez too~ Looking sharp as ever” he smiled with a wink,

“You seem content and not quite as dead as I thought.” Crocodile said smoothly “Laying low means nothing to you does it?” he added flatley noticed the bright outfit Bon was wearing, along with the pigtails that hung over his shoulders.

“Hana-chan made me it!” Bon boasted spinning around letting his long blue and white striped skirt flare out around him “ She was the one who saved me.” swishing his pigtails joyfully.

“She was fine harbouring an escaped criminal?” he asked curiously,

“She’s a nice person.” Bon replied with a grin “Come come, I’ll introduce you. I think she stepped out for a little while but she won’t mind you waiting at the house.” Bon Clay chatted merrily as he led them to the little house on the edge of town “here we are.” he crouched to lift the potted plant by the door for the key to find it gone “oh maybe she’s home already.” he opens the door slowly “Hana-chan! Pumpkin?!” he called. He hurried down the corridor to the kitchen finding her sitting at the table with a pot of tea and a pile of gingerbreads “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she smiled somberly,

“You’re back early how did the date-”

“I was foolish to think that it was a date. I was stood up.” she sighed deeply “It’s fine. I should have expected it,” she looked up at Bon “Do we have guests?” she rose from her chair moving around him “It would be rude to not-” her sentence slowed down “to greet them” she couldn’t believe the sight of the towering man in her hallway. “S-Sir Crocodile?” tall, dark and very intimidating, especially the giant hook that glimmered in the dim light of the hall.

“I mentioned it was him-”

“I know that. I just assumed you’d just disappear one day.. I didn’t expect a shichibukai to be standing in my hall!” turning back round she jumped when coming face to face with Crocodile’s stomach, staggering backwards quickly bowing profusely “S-sorry sir! Please sit. W-would you like some coffee?”  She pulled out two chairs at the table for Crocodile and the second man who wasn’t as tall but very muscular and equally intimidating, the sharp look in his eyes was enough to send shivers down her spine. 

“Boss likes his coffee black.” Bon stated as he got some cups out of the cupboard. “Bonez-” The sound of someone knocking at the door made Hana jump. 

“Marines! You better open up!” the colour visibly drained out of her face and she frantically paced around the kitchen.

“Okay. I’ll sort this. Stay here and don’t make any noise.” she said, directing most of those words at Bon Clay. She hurried out of the room closing the door behind her. 

-

Hana took a deep breath and opened the door “Captain Steele, how can I help?” she asked cautiously, the tall heavily scared marine frowned deeply trying to peer around her. 

“What took you so lo-”

“I was in the middle of baking.” She interrupted quickly “So how can I help?” keeping her hand firmly on the door not allowing him past.

Steele looked down at her with a scowl “There have been sightings of two escaped prisoners,” he handed her two wanted posters of two men she had hiding in her kitchen “Crocodile, an ex-shichibuaki and Daz Bonez. Both highly dangerous.” she passed him them back, 

“I haven’t seen either, I’m sure I would have noticed them wandering around.” she said going to close the door but he jammed his foot in the door making her open it again. “I told-”

“You know harbouring pirates is against the law and the sentence that goes with it?” Steele asked rhetorically glaring down at Hana who stood her ground. She was trying to keep it together, the marines here were cruel and it was best to avoid confrontation with them if possible.

“Oh I’m aware. You made it very clear with the public execution of the blacksmith last week after he was falsely accused of harbouring a pirate,” she bite her tongue quickly, what a time to speak her mind. The marine leant down to her to try and intimidate her, she swallowed the lump in her throat “E-everyone knows the man staying at the Blacksmith’s was a marine.” Steele sneered at her,

“Dangerous accusations you’re throwing about there. Be a shame if your house caught fire.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“Of course not. The marines are here to protect people but what's not to say some ruffians might be lurking around to cause some trouble?” he added darkly “good day miss. If you do find yourself in need be sure to call,” he said with a faux smile and headed off down the road. She closed the door once he was out of sight and ran straight back into the kitchen.

“You need to leave and quickly.” she ordered, “It was nice to meet you all but it won’t be long until the marines come back.” 

“Hana-chan…” Bon Clay looked at her worriedly “what about you? Didn’t he say-”

“I’ll stall them as long as possible. There’s a path through the forest that will take you to the far side of the harbour and-” you had missed the look Bon Clay had given his captain which was the biggest saddest pair of puppy eyes ever.

“Pack your things.” Crocodile ordered rising to his feet, “I won’t hear the end of it otherwise.” Hana was speechless and it didn’t take much more convincing when Crocodile shot her a stern look.

“Y-yes sir!” 

“I’ll help you!” Bon announced following her upstairs. 

Clothes, letters, money, sewing kit, some books, shoes. I think that’s it. 

“Snappy!” Hana looked around frantically finding the two foot crocodile plush at the end of her bed, she couldn’t leave it. She’d had him so long. Staring down at the four bags of things, she felt guilty for taking so much. 

“I packed all the stuff from your sewing room-” Bon announced snapping out of her thoughts,

“What- that’s too much!”

“Well you might need it. I sent Bonez ahead with it. I’ll get these three. Lets go!” Hana followed in a panic. Was this really happening? Was it necessary? 

-

There was another knock at the door. Bon Clay had already hurried on ahead. Maybe she could buy them a little more time. She shouldered her duffel bag and answered the door to the same marine from before this time with company. He grabbed her roughly dragging her out of the house throwing her to the floor. He said nothing as two lower rank marines walked past with torches and set fire to her home. 

“No!” she looked up in horror as her little home slowly succumbed to the flames. The windows shattered as the flames grew, the curtains her mother had made swallowed up by the fire. 

“Such a shame.” he said flatly “this could have been avoided if you had simply handed them over.” Hana stared silently watching her home vanish before her eyes “Even if they get off the island. You won’t. You will be executed for harbouring pirates. Though I wouldn’t be opposed to a monetary bribe and we can forget this incident happened.”

Slowly Hana rose to her feet and turned to face him, flinging her arms wide open “Oh and what would be the point? You’ve burnt down everything that I had! If you want to shoot me for breaking your flawed view of justice, do it now and save everyone some time!” she snapped. Several rifles were pointed at her in seconds. 

This is it. 

Taking a deep breath she stared down the barrel of pistol the marine held to her head 

“Such a shame. Pirates burnt down your house and shot you dead.” He said with faux sympathy “Such a shame. That we were too slow to save you.” his cold eyes bore into her own green eyes, that could no longer hold back her growing fear. “Good bye-” Clamping her eyes tightly expecting the bitter end. No gun fire. A strange draft flowed up from her ankles. Sand swirled around her like a vortex, sending the marines staggering backwards. Throwing her arms up to cover her face. 

“Marines really are pathetic,” a familiar husky voice stated flatly. Gingerly she opened her eyes to find Crocodile towering before her. He didn’t glance back at her keeping his gaze focused on the marines in front of him. “Ground Secco.” He placed his hand on the ground and the earth beneath him was rapidly reduced to sand dragging the marines into its clutches.

Hana tried to stagger back but found her feet slipping into the newly formed desert. She yelped in surprise as she was picked up by the waist held like a sack of potatoes under Crocodile's arm. “T-thank you” she stammered, still quite shaken up by the ordel “I can walk-”

“Too slow.” He grumbled traveling forth into the air with his sand powers, which made her cry out in surprise, wrapping her arms around his large golden hook just in case she should slip. Her heart was beating rapidly, so much was happening so quickly it was a lot to take in. Flying through the air like this, didn’t seem real. Like some distant fairytale where she was being whisked away by a mysterious and handsome prince. Glancing up at her savouir. He was handsome, certainly more so in person than his wanted poster would have you believe. The smell of his musky aftershave along with traces of sand and cigars filled her nose as they flew through the sky. 

He’s certainly kinder than I thought. 

That thought was quickly shattered when he dropped her the moment they landed on the deck of his ship which had already set out from the harbour. 

“HANA-CHAN!” Bon clay cried darting to her side to hug her tightly, his tears rolling like a waterfall down his face. “You’re okay!” 

Everything was starting to catch up with her and yet nothing was properly sinking in. The sight of a fire caught her eye. “Hana-chan?” She turned slowly resting her hands on the ship's railing, staring out at the house on the cape up in flames. 

It was gone. Everything she built for herself. Gone. Up in flames. 

Now the pain started to seep in. The realisation she no longer had a home to return to. She felt so hollow and alone. 

Tag list: 

@one-piece-dumpster-fire​

[gothsic]

LITTLE CHARACTER THINGS

Just a fun little character game. Fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by. Repost & tag away !

tagged by: @citialiin​ suplexes you into the sun bc i luv u tagging:   whomever wants to !!

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS:

001. DISGUST – Filth, filth, it’s all filth. Everyone is squirming underneath his boot heel, and they’re doing it with a smile. How awful. And yet, he can’t help but smile right back at them. So delighted that they understand their place. If only he could sleep, he might very well get some god-damned peace...

002. ISOLATION – Why is it that looking at the sea reminds him so much of the things that he’d lost? Maybe that’s why he spends so much time sitting out there in the sand, looking out at the ocean as it ebbs and flows, leaves behind the darkened, wet sand. Sometimes, he planted footprints there, and watched them vanish as the water took them away. And no, it wasn’t a comfort. It was, maybe, some sort of reminder to himself.

003. ENVY – WHY does it always have to be that way? Smiling faces admiring another’s work - someone younger than him... he wants it all. He’ll take it for himself if he has to. Why can it not be him at all hours of the day? Always worshipped, always admired. Look at his talent, bask in it... but why do they all head the opposite direction? Could it be that... he’s losing relevance? No, it couldn’t be. And yet, that pain in his stomach simply won’t go away...

004.YEARNING – He has always had a habit of grabbing at things he can’t have. If he can’t have it, he only wants it more. Once he has it, he holds onto it as if he had been utterly fulfilled every which way.

005. RAGE  – Always seeing red, always wanting nothing more than to tear at those that denied him a chance at success. Claws that have grown over the years, from frustrated, suppressed anger that originated from the time he was born, perhaps. Now, they slash at whatever they can find; not enough to kill, but enough to leave a scar. A wound. A reminder that he was there once.

GREETINGS:

001. A sarcastic remark, a seemingly chatty man. He seems to have opinions on everything, no matter what the subject. He seems remarkably interested in you, but only insofar as to how involved you are in the subject at hand.

002. He offers you a half-smile. A laid-back appearance. Extends his hand to meet yours to greet you. When you shake his hand, you make note of how strangely callous his hands are. How cold they are, made even colder by the metal rings on his fingers that brush uncomfortably against your skin.

003. He pokes fun at you, makes jokes. But they’re never meant to necessarily harm you. That would be rude, oh no. He can be a bit much, but he only means to make you laugh. But there’s still a strange distance to him. You can’t seem to penetrate him, necessarily - no matter how you may retort. But maybe, if you say something right on point at the right moment, he might just remember you.

004. After an exciting conversation, he asks for your number. Or your contact details. Anything to potentially arrange another meeting down the line. It’s a sign that you’ve attracted his attention in some way. Maybe he’ll contact you down the line.

005. Perhaps, after some time of meeting, if you’re lucky, he’ll show you his genuine smile rather than his half-smile. Right then, you realize that the man you met way back when may actually have more secrets than you could have ever comprehended - if his smile was fake, what else is fake?

COLOURS:

001. Pitch black, of course - the color of choice for the ex-goth.

002. Crimson red, the color of beating hearts and throbbing flesh.

003. Forest green, the color of D.’s forest before it began to rot as a consequence of his deteriorating psyche.

004. Murky blue, the color of the ocean at midnight as the moon is hidden in the Los Angeles smog. It seems endless the more he looks into it.

005. Earthy brown, the color of Annie’s sweater the night she vanished into the darkness forever.

SCENTS:

001. A consistent reek of cigarette smoke on his clothes, his breath, his every word.

002. A faint scent of hair gel and mousse - faintly applied, to keep his hair as voluminous as possible.

003. The equally as faint trace of after shave after he’s taken care of himself. Though there is a stronger smell of hair dye, as he obsessively covers every white hair that may emerge on his head.

004. The strong smell of permanent marker, inking pens, and lead from his furious sketching.

005. Then, there’s his own natural smell - cinnamon mixed with a musty pine; it’s a bit like the smell of a forest filled with pine trees after a heavy rain. Overwhelming, powerful, and stuffy.

CLOTHING:

001. Three skull rings on each hand, on your index, middle, and ring fingers. It’s perfect symmetry, and they shine against whatever light might hit it. But they are always so very cold to the touch.

002. Black, black, and more black - but the occasional muted green or brown enters the palette. Never any colors brighter than those, however - it would be far too much of an eyesore for someone like him.

003. Three gold and black earrings on the top of his ears. Again, symmetry is key. Keeping that image of control and collection is exactly what he wishes above all things; that alternative look.

004. Combat boots, black and laced up to the top. They’re impeccably buffed and shined, though the soles look a little worse for wear. It must be all the walking he does at night when sleep simply won’t come.

005. Baggy shirts and sweaters, occasionally dress shirts, that hide his figure. He’s disproportionate, far too thin; the longer the clothes, the better he can hide how odd and lanky he truly is from his point of view.

OBJECTS:

001. His drawing tablet, always sketching something idly while at home and daydreaming. There are hundreds of random sketches collected on the pages, though some consistencies are quite visible if one took a closer look. 

002. His collection of various statuettes and figurines. He has placed them in detolfs for everyone to see, fawn over, and be amazed by. If anyone so much as looks incorrectly at his more precious ones, he will have a close eye on them in fear that they will somehow break merely by being looked at.

003. Signed copy of one of the few produced vinyl records of Oingo Boingo’s Forbidden Zone hanging on his wall. It’s framed, and he’s very proud of it! Often shows it off, in fact. He’s a big fan of theirs.

004. A safety deposit box filled with his biggest secrets - specifically a thumb drive filled with Annie’s e-mails to him. He backed them up there so he can read them on occasion and not have people discover them on his actual computer - he’s quite the paranoid man.

005. Post-its on the walls of his workroom. There is literally no more space for plaster, only post-its of notes and ideas that he has while he conducts research for his next project.

VICES / BAD HABITS:

001. OBSESSIVENESS - Look at him, so utterly fixated on someone who will never love him back. But what he feels isn’t love, oh no. It’s rather a completely unhealthy adoration and veneration of someone he felt understood him. But it is arrogant, of course, to assume that you are so complex as to feel as if there are only a select few who understand you ( in his very unfortunate case ). He has gone to horrific lengths to keep tabs on Annie, and does so as covertly as possible. Nowadays, he uses his intelligence to fuel his obsessive tendencies.

002. LYING - Covers the truth up with layers and layers of sarcasm and lies so that he, or rather his true self, can never be discovered. The result is that he keeps people in a web of extremely elaborate deception, the likes of which they can never escape. But there are cracks in the facades occasionally, they just have to be found.

003. COVETING YOUTH - He is so obsessed with youth that he cannot handle anybody or anything maintaining the status that he had when he was their age (20s, in other words). He especially applies it to himself, though no amount of primping and covering up the blemishes on his face can ever erase the fact that he’s slowly growing crow’s feet around his eyes, made even worse by the bags under them - and my, they’re growing a fine mixture of blue and purple, like fresh bruises.

004. UNWARRANTED SELF IMPORTANCE - He is completely self centered, and thinks of the entire world on his own terms. This is how he’s been wired ever since he can remember, and he always puts himself and his survival first. He makes friends and connections based on this principle, and has a great amount of pride because of this. It is unfortunate, but it is one of his biggest flaws and ultimately what has led him down the slippery slope to irrelevance and isolation.

005. LACK OF EMPATHY - On top of being self involved, he struggles to feel for the plight of others. In fact, it can be said he struggles to feel much of anything, as he worries far more for his current predicament rather than for the difficulties of those in his life. He will only assist or even understand if he can relate in some way from personal experience, or if it benefits him and his career. There is very rarely an instance he will help someone or something because he feels it is the right thing to do.

BODY LANGUAGE:

001. The aforementioned half-smile - the Jonathan trademark, something he has rehearsed ever since his career started to take off. Perhaps even before then, while he was still in high school. It is boyish, youthful, playful - and it is always followed by a sarcastic or joking remark.

002. Hands in pockets - The sign of deceit, hiding something, keeping his distance from you. He is very secretive at all times, and often feels uncomfortable in social situations, and feel better as long as he has his hands in his pockets. That said...

003. Wild gesticulations - When passionately discussing something, he has a tendency to make hand movements of all kinds. Circling his hands, stretching his arms out, pointing, doing anything and everything to get his point across. He becomes expressive in a rather charismatic way. It’s truly odd, considering how often he keeps his hands in his pockets.

004. Hunched over - Slouching half the time, his true height is hidden by this decision to constantly look as if he’s three inches shorter than he is. Rather it is a symptom of his insecurity over his appearance ( he does think he’s weird looking to begin with ), or from a life of leaning over a desk, he certainly rarely stands up straight.

005. Leaning on his right foot versus the left - When standing, and talking to someone, he always puts all his weight on his right foot, and leans to that side. It’s his dominant side, and it gives him his lackadaisical appearance. This likely helps people approach him in many ways.

AESTHETICS:

001. BIOMECHANICS. - Feeling flesh on metal is one of the most skin-crawling sensations, but Jonathan is fascinated with it. He draws it, he lives and breathes it, one of his favorite films of all time is Tetsuo: The Iron Man. Not because he himself would want to put metal on his body, but the very idea is where he believes humanity is headed in the next decade or two. Biomechanics, while cold, is something that gives Jonathan some sense of comfort - that there is a way to marry technology and flesh. Maybe he, too, can be a biomechanical humanoid - so he fantasizes.

002. GOTH ( AS IT SHOULD BE ). - A goth since his teen years, Jonathan knows the fashion and subculture inside and out; or at least, he did once. Though an ex-goth from his early 30s, he still maintains some interest in the culture all the same. He may have stopped dying his hair and wearing “goth” accessories and clothes, but he enjoys the lifestyle and still generally keeps it close to his heart. Just don’t call him Goth Bomb.

003. BODY HORROR. - Flesh mutating and intermingling with itself, a David Cronenberg nightmare that he experienced firsthand in his own dreams. Eyes in places they shouldn’t be, hair where it should never grow... the list goes on and on. It, like biomechanics, sends chills running up and down his spine in a way that excites him. Perhaps he is like Tetsuo, a man who finds a grotesque fascination in manipulating the flesh with the unnatural. But in this case, it’s how naturally manipulation can occur without the introduction of foreign objects, to word it somewhat scientifically...

004. SCI-FI HORROR. - The darkness of space, it’s vastness. It’s quite horrifying, the more he thinks about it. But it’s exciting too. All the possibilities that lie in the stars, all the worlds he could visit as someone quite tired of Earth... but what horrors await behind each planet, each moon, even within each star? They would simply jump at the chance to devour an unimportant human whole, and Jonathan is unsure if he wants to take that chance. All the same, he dreams of that world, hoping that one day he may get to experience it - but, perhaps, from a distance. 

005. DEEP COLORS IN CINEMATOGRAPHY / CHIAROSCURO. - Intense lighting, mood lighting, anything that brings out the terror or intensity of a scene is something Jonathan imitates in his works. By deep colors, it is meant that he adores the use of intense reds, blues, and purples in cinema - these often pop up in his work as mood lighting for his set pieces. They signal to him a fantasy world that is not our own. Chiaroscuro simply refers to the film noir technique that he grew to adore from a young age. The harsh black against white, signalling mystery and evil lying behind every corner entranced that young and intelligent mind, sparked his terrified imagination to what monsters could hide in the faces of his favorite noir protagonists...

SONGS / PIECES:

001. montezuma ── fleet foxes 

002. little lennon ──   asian kung fu generation

003. sabertooth tiger   ──   cage the elephant

004. controller   ──   oingo boingo

005. dark entries  ── bauhaus

[leelee10898]

Fast cars & Freedom: Body say (9/?)

Ellie and Luca spend the day with Colt and friends. Will they be able to get along with the pending divorce? Catch up HERE

Raiting: Mature. This chapter contains NSFW content.

Pairngs: Logan x Ellie, Colt x Ellie

Song inspiration:

Ellie darted across the Dormitory parking lot. he feet sloshing through the large puddles, body frozen from the cold East coast rain. She mentally reprimanded herself for committing to a school where it gets so cold. She pulled her rain soaked clothes off,immediately upon entering the warmth of her Dorm. She put on her trusty Langston sweat shirt on and a pair of leggings as she sat indian style on her bed.  She pulled the cardboard box from the bag and ripped it open, tearing the foil wrapper as the plastic stick landed in her open palm. How did she end up here? In this mess?

She had been in school a few months, constantly tired, nauseous, she chalked it up to stress and nerves. It wasn't until her jeans wouldn't button, and the increased appetite did she realize she was late, very late. She took a deep breath, walking into the bathroom. A few minutes later she sat the test on the sink, forcing herself to look at anything but the slim piece of plastic.

Ellie paced the floor, it was the longest five minutes of her life. She was a smart girl, straight As, Valedictorian. Her common sense went out with window when it came to not one, but 2 bad boys. The phones timer went off, with shaking hands she reached for the test, flipping it over.

Two pink lines.

****

“Ellie? Earth to Ellie!”

“Hmm, what?” She perked up. “I was saying,  I have Darnell’s number, you'll need to call his office and set up and appointment. Jesus,  where were you?” Riya stared at her best friend. “I'm sorry Ri. My mind was elsewhere.” she sat up, trying to give her full attention.  “Yeah, no shit. Whats on your mind El? You've been lost in thought a lot lately.”

“I was just thinking about the past, about the what if’s.” Riya rubbed her temples, this was the same song and dance she had been going over with Ellie for the past 5 years. Ever since Luca was born, she started with the what ifs.

“What have I told you about the past?”

“That its the past and there is nothing I can do to change it.” Ellie sighed. “Very good. But what you can do is focus on the future.  Soon you'll know who Lucas father is, and you'll have that closure.” She squeezed her hand. “speaking of closure. Have you told Colt you filed?”

“Yeah. I um called him the other day and told him.” she filled Riya in in the conversation she had with colt, how he wasn't happy about her filing and asked her to reconsider. She and Luca were headed to Colts house the next day for a bbq and she hoped it wouldn't be awkward.

The next morning she woke up to Luca in her face, overly excited for their trip to Colts. Ellie got up and went through the motions of getting ready and also packed up. Colt gave her instructions to bring a bathing suit for them both, and a change of clothes as well as Pajamas incase they decided to stay over if Luca got tired. She chuckled to herself at the memory of their conversation.  She had been doing this far longer, yet here he was telling her what to pack.

Ellie loaded Luca into the car and put the address into the GPS. She had recently bought a new car, Toby cried when he seen it. He was upset she did not take him with her and called it a grandma car. Her mind wandered, wondering what Colts home would look like. She had been to Logas house, it was beautiful,  big, not something she would have picked herself, but it suited Logan well. When she thought of where colt would live, she could only picture the old garage. The small, Dimly lit living quarters off to the side with 2 small bedrooms.

She turned off the road, to where the GPS told her to.  Her eyes widening at the sight in front of her. It was a modest blue,beach front cottage with a large wrap around porch. This was definitely not the garage. She got out of the car, unhooking Luca from her car seat when she looked up to see colt standing shirtless at the top of the stairs. “Cooooolt.” luca went running into his arms. “Hey squirt,  you ready to have some fun?” Luca shook her head enthusiastically “Ahhh heck yeah I am.”

“Luca! Watch the language.” Colt chuckled shaking her head. “Go on in and see uncle Toby. He's been driving me crazy for you to get here.” Colt walked down to the car helping Ellie with the bags she had.

“You didn't tell me you lived at the beach.” She eyed him. “Yeah part time. You like?”

“Well the outside is beautiful, I haven't seen the inside yet.” He gave her a smirk motioning inside.  The inside was just as nice, the walls were painted in earth tones, a nice nautical theme decorating the walls and tables. She didn't see it being the work of colt, clearly a female decorated, maybe an ex girlfriend?

He showed her around, three bedrooms, 2 bath. a nice kitchen, living room and dining area. She felt a bit jealous, she always wanted to live at the beach, or even just have a beach house to disappear to every so often. “Gangs all here. Toby, X, Mona. Want a drink?” He asked. She nodded “I'll have a glass of moscato if you have it.” Colt walked into the kitchen returning a minute later, glass in hand. “I asked Ximena to find out your favorite.” The gesture making her smile.

They walked out onto the back deck, Ellie hugging everyone her eyes settled on a woman, with long brown hair she had never seen before. Colt placed his hand on the small of her back, walking her over to the mystery woman. “Ellie, I would like you to meet my mom Darcy,” He looked at his mother “Mom, this is Ellie.” Suddenly Ellie felt very awkward, she tried her best to steal her nerves and extended her hand. “Hello, it's nice to meet you.”

“Oh honey no, I don't shake hands.” She stood up pulling Ellie into a hug. “It's nice to finally meet the elusive Ellie. If it wasn't for the few pictures he would stare at for hours, I would have thought you were fake.” “Mom.” Comt gave her a pleading look. “Pictures?” Ellie arched her brow at him, she made a mental note to visit the subject again later. “Ooook, I think Mona is looking for you.” Colt interrupted.

The afternoon went by, they ate and reminisced about the days of the MPC, Darcy sharing some stories of her time there, at least the ones she didn't mind Colt hearing. She had moved past that life long ago, but something in her eyes told Ellie something was unsettled there.

Colt and toby took Luca down to the shore line, letting her play. Ellie sat at the table watching them. The way Colt took to Luca warmed her heart. “Mind if I join you?” She looked up seeing cindy “Sure.” She answered, quickly bringing her focus back to the sight in front of her.  “Luca is a gem, such a beautiful little girl and a lot of sass. She reminds me of Colt when he was a kid.” Ellie turned to face her “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm, he was a smart ass from the time he learned to talk. Sharp as a tack too.” She chuckled. Ellie looked back towards the ocean, Colt shooting her a wink that made her momentarily.

“I can see what my son sees in you. Your sweet, kind hearted, intelligent, not to mention cute as a button.” Ellie blushed again “Ah thanks.” “You remind me A Lot of myself when I was younger.” Ellie turned her body towards Darcy, sensing she had more she wanted to say.  “You were smart to get out of that life, make something of yourself. You were smart to file for divorce.” Ellie's eyes widened “Really? You're happy about the divorce?”

She took a long swig of wine, sitting the glass down on the table.  “I love my son. He's always been drawn to the life of the crew, he's got a lot of Teppei in him. Sure he's on the straight and narrow now, but that can all change in an instant.  For the Kaneko's, that life runs deep.”

Ellie couldn't answer, she had no words. Darcy reached out grabbing her hand “I can tell you still Love him, its written all over your face. End it while you can.”

“Well, it's time for me to hit the road. Think about what I said.” Ellie nodded her head as she watched Darcy make her way down to the beach to say goodbye to Colt. She sat there dumbfounded, but Darcy's words replaying in her head End it while you can. One thing she was sure of was the fact she needed A Lot more wine.

They enjoyed the rest of the afternoon hanging out and talking. Ellie sat at the outside table on colts deck. Talking with Ximena, Toby and Mona. They had gotten on the subject of parenting, and how her life has changed since becoming a mother.

“I have never been away from her for a whole night before. I've come home late, and she's been in bed. But she has always been there.”

“Oh sweetie. You need a night for you. Where you don't have to be Mom, and can just be Ellie.” ximena said.  Colt stood against the railing watching Luca play in the sand, but listening to the conversation going on around him.

“I haven't had that in almost 6 years. I wouldn't know how to even act.” Ellie shook her head with a smile.

“Hey why don't Toby and I take her for the night.” Ximena grinned. Ellie hesitated “oh! I don't know.”

“Oh come on Ellie belly. It'll be great. Oh we can make a pillow fort, and watch minions, and make popcorn.” Toby squealed with excitement.

“Its Toby and X, El. You know damn well they would never let anything happen to Luca.” She looked between them, of course colt was right, toby and ximena were protective of her, and took to Luca as if they were her aunt and uncle. “Ok. Fine.”  she sighed.

“yes!” Toby jumped up running to the top of the steps. “you hear that Lulu, you're having a sleepover at Aunt X and uncle tobys house tonight!”  Luca came screaming, “Really? Alright! Yes! Thank you mommy!”

“Don't thank me, thank your Da-. Colt. Thank colt.” she silently prayed he didn't hear it, She didn't mean to say that, she had no idea if he was or not. But all of Colts certainty was affecting her thought process.  Luca ran over throwing her arms around him. “Thank you Colt, thank you so much.” He softened right away, wrapping his arms around her, she could make out a faint glistening in his eyes.

Ellie could feel the stinging in her eyes, it had been the first real bit of raw emotion she had witnessed between either him or Logan with Luca. She didn't expect it to effect her that  much. “Excuse me. I have to go, check something.” she tried to even her voice, but she knew he would pick up on it. She walked into the house, making her way towards the bathroom. “Hey, El. What's the matter.” the tears were already spilling from her eyes now. “No. Nothing. Im fine. Really.”

He touched her shoulder, turning her around. “Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” she half laughed “You did everything right. It just got me a little emotional that's all.” Colt knew what she was talking about,  it hit him in the feels as well.

“She. She really hugged me. Like a real hug Ellie. I don't, I don't know how to explain it.” He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. It was in that moment he knew, no matter what those test results said, he would protect that little girl with his life. Luca was the brightest star in his sky. and ellie was his Sun and his moon.

A short time later Ellie and Colt stood at the front door waving goodbye to Luca. Colt going back Inside to start cleaning up once the car was out of view, Ellie following a moment later. She jumped in the kitchen starting to wash dishes. “You don't have to do that, I can get those.” Colt insisted but Ellie waved him off.

He put the food away, and started cleaning other areas of the kitchen.  “So what are you going to do on your night off?” he questioned as he wiped down the countertops. “I don't know honestly, maybe take a bubble bath, watch some tv.” she shrugged as she finished up the dishes. Her phone pinged from across the room “on second thought,  maybe not.” She frowned. “What's wrong?”

“That was my dad, Sally is staying over. Maybe I'll just get a room for the night.”

Colt walked over handing her a glass of wine “You can stay here, don't argue. I have a guest room. Now take your ass out on the deck and relax.” He nudged her outside as he finished cleaning up.

Ellie stood against the railing, feeling the warm sea breeze against her skin. She closed her eyes letting the sound of the waves breaking against the earth calm her. She wasn't sure if it was her moments nirvana or the wine but she felt more relaxed then she had in a long time. Colt stood against the doorframe taking her in, this was something he could get used to, something he wanted more then anything he just had to change her mind, show her that they belonged together.  

Ellie noticed Colt standing there out of the corner of her eye. “It's a beautiful view.” she spoke, back turned to him.  “Yeah, it is.” He spoke never taking his eyes off of her. He walked over joining her against the railing. “I text X to check on Luca. She's watching a movie with toby in their pillow fort.” He chuckled. “I'm glad she's having fun. Thanks for checking on her Colt, you really have no idea how much I appreciate how accepting you guys have been of her.”

“Hey, you don't have to thank me El. I love that little girl no matter what.”

Ellie leaned up, placing a soft kiss on his lips taking them both by surprise. She pulled back their eyes locked, each searching the other for any sign. Colt made the next move, his lips back on hers this time with more force, he kissed her like his life depended on it, a hunger rising within him that he suppressed for to long.  Ellies fingers tangled in his black locks, deepening the kiss a soft moan escaping her.

Colt reached down grabbing her by the back of her thighs and lifting her up, she wrapped her legs around him as he walked her into the house. He pushed her up against the wall his lips fixed on her neck. Her head was spinning, she hadn't been with anyone in a long time and the way his lips felt against her ignited a flame within her. With her legs still wrapped around him he pulled her sundress over her head, tossing it on the floor as he carried her to his room and laying her down on the bed. his hand reaching around unhooking her bra, tossing it across the room, lips crashing against hers as his hand gently kneaded her breast.

She knew in the back of her mind this wasn't a good idea, but the need to be touched, to feel the pleasure was overpowering. She reached up yanking his shirt off, her fingers caressing the ripples of his muscular chest. His breath hitching in his throat as she reached down palming his stiff length.  His lips trailed down her neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His tongue swirled each of her pink buds, giving each attention before making his way down her stomach to her hips. Ellies breathing picked up in anticipation as to what she so badly wanted, needed to happen next. His dark eyes met her lust blown ones as telling him all he needed to know, he hooked his fingers in her lace panties and slowly slid them down her legs.

He settled between her legs, slowly slid his fingers between her slick folds, moaning in Appreciation at just how soaked she was for him. The rumble of his voice and the feeling of his breath against her skin making the anticipation un bearable. Her mind told her no, to stop before it went any further, but her body said differently. She needed it, she wanted to feel his mouth on her, to feel his calloused hands all over her. “c colt, please.” She whimpered, trying to push herself closer to him, begging for him to end her misery. A smirk spread across his lips as he placed open mouth kisses against her sensitive skin.

He jutted his tongue swirling against her bundle of nerves. She let out a loud moan at the sensation, as he skillfully worked his  against her clit, watching her chest rise and fall with hooded eyes as she neared her climax. He slowly slid two fingers into her, pumping them in and out, watching her come apart under his touch.  She threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, her legs began to shake as she cried out his name,he quickly pulled out his fingers, replacing them with his tongue as she came, him taking everything she gave.

Ellie laid there trying to catch her breath. It was everything she needed yet not enough,  she needed more, she needed him. “Colt. Please.” she panted. He stood wiping his mouth, he knew what she wanted, he wanted it to, but he wanted to hear her say it, no he needed her to say it.  “What do you want Eliana. Tell me what you need.” His voice deep and sexy, it made her body ache, and hearing him say her name turned her on even more. “I want you Colt. I need to feel you inside of me.”

I0n one fluid motion he stripped his shorts and underwear down, joining her on the bed. His mouth claiming hers as he settled on top of her. He reached between her thighs pumping his thick long length, teasing her with the tip. “Colt. Please.” she begged. He sunk into her slowly with a low groan resting his head in her forehead. She felt amazing, maybe even better then he remembered.  Ellie sucked in a sharp breath as he stretched her in ways she dreamed about for 6 years.

He began to rock into her starting off slow, allowing her body to relax. His lips softly sucking on the spot of her neck that he knew drove her crazy. He began to pick up the pace, the need to hear her scream his name, to make her come undone becoming to great. He settled on his knees pulling her legs up lifting  her slightly off the bed as she wrapped them around him allowing deeper access. “F. F fuck colt, yes.” she moaned as he bucked wildly against her, he lifted her up their bodies pressed against each other as she matched his thrust. He could feel her walls flutter around him, she was close and he wanted to blow her mind.

His fingers slipped down between her legs as he rubbed tight circles against her still sensitive clit. She buried her head into his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around him nails digging crescents into his back as her body began to shake. “Let me hear you Ellie. Let go, I got you.” He moaned into her ear “Oh Colt, yes. Don't stop. Don't stop.”

His name flew off her lips like a matera as the coil snapped, her body shook as she gave into an intense orgasm, her juices flooding his cock. The sensation to much to bare, he pumped hard twice before giving into his own release with a loud grunt. They collapsed into a sweaty heap onto the bed.  

They laid their entwined with each other, neither wanting to move, both in fear that if they did they would lose the moment forever. Ellie knew she shouldn't have given into temptation, but at least this way they got a proper goodbye. “Colt.” she broke the silence, “this doesn't change anything. We can't-”

“Just let us have tonight Ellie.” He cut her off, knowing this wasn't going to change her mind. “Tonight.” She whispered as her lips found his again.

Permatag

@kennaxval @hopefulmoonobject @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld @indiacater @blackcatkita @darley1101 @hazah

ROD

@daniv2278 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @going-down-downtown @mercyparkcrew @emichelle @annekebbphotography @powdesiree0816 @walkerismychoice @yesivefallenpreytothechoicestrap @zaira-oh-zaira @sweetest-marbear @simsvetements @zaffrenotes @professorortegasstudent @akrenich @ifyouseekheart @client-327 @choicelogansbitch @choicesarehard @paisleylovergirl @itskismetbb @itsmarleen @rhischoicesfanfics @distinguishedsaladoperawinner @iplaydrake @coffeebeandream @jasidu2

[artificialqueens]

Beneath the Amber Moon, Part 2 (Galactica AU Group Fic) – TheDane & Veronica

Heyyy!! Welcome to Part 2 of “Beneath the Amber Moon,” a group fic set in the Galactica Universe. Click here for Part 1and here for some background on this AU.

We hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think!

Summary: Day 2. Courtney shows up at the resort, throwing a wrench into Fame’s plans, and Violet continues to avoid all the tropical fun.

/////

COURTNEY: Omg finally here. I thought I was gonna die on that helicopter.

ADORE: YAY!!! I can’t wait to see you!!! I’ll be back in like 4 hours. Ish.

COURTNEY: WHAT?!

ADORE: I’m on a boat. It’s a long story. Pity me.

COURTNEY: Adore! You’re leaving me alone with these jackals?! I did not agree to that!

ADORE: Calm down, everyone loves you.

COURTNEY: What about B?!

ADORE: Especially B…;)

COURTNEY: ADORE

COURTNEY: THIS IS NOT FUNNY

ADORE: Chillax bro. It’s a vacation. Go get some lunch and a cocktail and I’ll see your sweet ass later when this hellride is over.

COURTNEY: UGHH

ADORE: TELL ME ABOUT IT

/////

Raja closed the door behind her. The nannies had brought the twins along for midday activities, something Raven had taken advantage of straight away to get some alone time in their bungalow. Raja saw Raven, her wife in the middle of the bed, the sheets barely covering her, her leg tugged up so Raja could see the ass she had fallen in lust with, Raven still plush and plum. Raja walked over, pushing her childrens toys aside with her feet before she sat down on the bed, Raven walking at the dip.

“Mmh?”

“Hello sleeping beauty.”

Raja smirked and leaned down, catching Raven’s lips in a kiss.

“Do I have to get up?” Raven’s eyes were still closed, though she did move closer to Raja, holding her hand out so her wife could take it, intertwining their fingers.

“We’re the only ones here.” Raja ran her free hand through Raven’s hair, the black longs almost at her hips after she had stopped modeling. “You look a mess.”

“Don’t try me, I don’t have a hair out of place bitch.”

Raja smiled. “Of course.”  Raven opened her eyes, a snort coming from her, telling Raja she clearly didn’t believe a word she was saying.

“I’m effortless.”

“Your lips and the bill I paid for them says something else my darling.” Raja smirked, her hand coming from Raven’s hair to capture her lip with her thumb. Raven moaning at the touch, though she started sucking right away just like she knew Raja liked it. “Not that I’m complaining. They are worth every penny.” Raja released her, unbuttoning her top. “These too.”

“They turned out pretty good, right?”

“You may not be effortless. But you are perfection.”

/////

Fame opened the door to the sauna. She had been fretting about having anything done to her face while in Brazil, worried they would ruin her hard work, but as Karl had laughed straight in her face, telling her it couldn’t get any worse, she had decided to give it a chance and she was more than pleased with herself that she had. She dropped her robe, the heat already getting to her.

“Hi.”

Fame turned, spotting Patrick who was sitting in nothing but a towel, his skin damp and shiny, his hair wet too.

“What are you doing in here?” Fame smiled. She had been wondering where her husband had gone to, Patrick disappearing during breakfast.

“Taking a break.” Fame sat down next to Patrick, the hot wood nearly burning her skin, but Fame had always liked an edge of pain. “Think I had a little too much to drink, so I figured I’d come here.”

Fame nodded. It wasn’t an abnormality for their group of friends to always be at least buzzed whenever they were all together, alcohol taking the place of the harder drugs they used to snort.

“It’s nice.”

Patrick moved his arm, and Fame leaned into him, their skin sticking to each other, but she didn’t mind.

“So...how do you feel?”

“Good.”

“Really?” Fame could feel Patricks huff of laughter. “I hadn’t expected that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fame sat up, looking at her husband.

“Nothing, I’m very proud of you. Seems like all the therapy has really made a difference, huh?”

“Patrick, what are you talking about, tell me right now or I’ll-”

“Oh.” Patrick’s eyebrows shot up, a flash of fear and then concern filling his face. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Fame could feel her anxiety rising with each nanosecond.

“It’s fine, love.” Patrick moved slightly, his body clearly betraying the calm in his words. “It’s just that, um...Courtney is coming. Adore mentioned it to me at breakfast. I thought-”

Fame stared at him blankly for a few seconds before asking, “Courtney Act? Why on earth would Courtney Act be coming?”

“It seems that Adore invited her-”

“Well, uninvite her! I don’t want her here for my birthday!”

“Fame.” Patrick put a hand on her leg, clearly trying to calm her down which only made her panic more. “It’ll be fine. Things have been over with Bianca for years. I’m sure everyone can be civil.”

“Civil isn’t good enough! I want my friends here, my best friends, my family! Courtney doesn’t belong in that.”

“I’d disagree.”

“She’s not family.”

“Really? Because if you ask me, having someone you can’t get rid of because someone you love loves them? That’s pretty much the definition of family.” Patrick squeezed Fame’s thigh. “Remember my Aunt Katherine at our wedding?”

“Courtney is nothing like Aunt Katherine.”

“No, but she’s coming, and you’ll have to deal with it. I promise it’ll be alright.”

/////

Courtney stood in the middle of the room, biting her lip. She had showered, changed, and spent a half hour unpacking - which was unusual. Normally she’d just live straight out of a suitcase for a week, but somehow right now, she was feeling anxious about going to join the group without Adore. Although...the water did look beautifully crystal blue, and it would be awfully nice to feel the sand under her feet.

She stepped outside onto her deck, breathing in the salty sea air, closing her eyes. She’d wrapped on her latest film project less than a week ago, and then spent 3 days in the recording studio, and this vacation was just the most perfect timing.

Even if she hadn’t fully thought through the idea of being in paradise with her ex.

Her ex, who she hadn’t seen in two years, who she still dreamed about, secretly hoping that something would bring them together again one day. No matter how many brilliant and beautiful women she met, how many times Courtney tried, her heart had never fully healed, never fully let go of Bianca.

Bianca, who happened to walk past her open window at the exact moment Courtney opened her eyes. Topless, breasts on full and glorious display as she dropped her towel and tied on a bathing suit. Courtney gulped.

She hadn’t realized how much her pulse was racing until Bianca stepped out of her bungalow a few minutes later, sunglasses in hand. Their eyes finally met, Courtney holding her breath in anxious anticipation. She wasn’t sure how Bianca felt about her being here, and she was fairly certain that the responsible thing would have been to check in before booking her room. But of course, she hadn’t done that. She’d let Adore handle everything.

Now, seeing Bianca’s face, she was 100% positive that she made the wrong decision. Bianca looked like she’d seen a ghost, her face turning nearly white, eyes bulging.

Shit. Courtney offered a sheepish little wave.

It took Bianca a few moments, but then she composed herself and strolled forward, the skirt of her maxi dress fluttering behind her.

Courtney leaned over the railing.

“Hey there…”

“Uh, hi.” Bianca looked up at Courtney with a puzzled expression. “What, uh...what are you doing here? I mean, sorry, I-”

“They didn’t tell you I was coming, did they?”

“Nope.”

Courtney cringed a little.

"I'm...Really sorry. Adore asked me to come, and she's my best friend, and we haven’t seen each other since-”

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m just...surprised. Um, come here.”

Bianca climbed the steps to give her a brief, awkward hug. As much as she tried to resist following Courtney and every one of her career moves, it was nearly impossible. So Bianca, along with everyone else alive on the planet, was well aware that she’d just finished shooting a sequel to Wonder Woman, as Supergirl.

Even from that quick hug, Bianca could feel how ridiculously buff she’d gotten. She gulped, searching for something else to say. Something that wasn’t ‘pick me up and throw me.’

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Courtney said. "She said everyone was cool with it, but obviously-"

“Don’t be silly,” Bianca said quickly. “It’ll be fun.” Bianca looked like she was telling the truth, though Courtney wasn’t sure if she should trust her. “Are you coming to lunch?”

“Um...okay.”

“Okay.”

Bianca offered a smile, dimples and all, and Courtney smiled back, following her down the steps and up the path.

/////

“Courtney! I can’t believe you’re here!”

Courtney felt the brief bliss of happiness, Juju’s obvious delight at seeing her almost making up for the fact that she had gotten herself caught in the strangest situation yet. Walking to the beach with her ex girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in two years, dressed in a bikini, to go hang out with Bianca’s friends (who she was pretty sure didn’t even like her), while Courtney’s friend had abandoned her entirely.

“Look at you.” Juju laughed, clearly surprised to see her friend. She hugged Courtney tightly, taking a step back, her hands on Courtney’s biceps. “Wow, girl. What did DC make you do? Lift trucks? Detox, look at these arms!”

Detox snorted, his wife already babbling at Courtney at how happy the twins will be when they realise she’s here, when they get back from scuba diving with Alaska and Adore.

“Courtney.” Detox held his hand out, Courtney taking it in her own. “What a surprise to see you here. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah, I, um....” Courtney smiled. She was clearly nervous, and Detox wanted to dig into it, and he also knew Juju would most likely murder him if he rocked the boat in any direction on this vacation...but would it really be his fault if a small wave or two came up?

“Courtney! Come sit with us!” Jinkx called, opening her arms to give her a hug.

“Jinkxy!” Relief flooded through Courtney as she extricated herself from Detox’ clutches and ran over to Jinkx.

“Hey girl! I want to know everything about Wonder Woman 2. Is Gal Gadot as hot in person as she is on screen?”

“Uh, yeah,” Courtney laughed, sitting down beside Jinkx with a grin.

/////

Patrick had expected the worst to happen the moment he saw Courtney walk into breakfast. Fame had taken forever to calm down that morning, his wife using nearly an hour to get ready for lunch, circling around like a tiger in a cage, and Patrick was not looking forward to the shitshow he every reason to believe would go down.

Patrick wasn’t stupid - he knew what was going on, even if Fame refused to admit it to herself. He hadn’t come to the conclusion on his own, most of his alone hours in therapy spent discussing Bianca, what she meant to his wife and how he could navigate it. Bianca never spared him a second glance, barely talked to him in fact, but Patrick loved Fame, even if they were unconventional. He would always be in her life, as long as he was able.

So of course, Patrick had expected Fame to blow up the moment she saw Bianca and Courtney, the two walking in suspiciously close together, but Fame surprised him, his wife not sparing a single glance at either Bianca or Courtney.

Instead, she continued her conversation with Isolde, the little girl sitting in her lap, examining the stones on her fingers, Fame’s hand on Patricks knee underneath the table as she told Isolde the story of each of her gems.

“Isolde, stop bothering your auntie.” Raven was sitting with Raja, leaning against her wife, the two nauseatingly in love.

“She’s not bothering me.” Fame smiled. And it was true. For now, at least, she was behaving, mesmerized by the sparkling gems. “We’re just having fun, right Isolde?”

“I love diamond!” Isolde announced, and everyone chuckled.

“Like mother, like daughter,” Raven said, holding up her mimosa.

/////

“Where’s Violet?” Courtney asked, looking around the table.

“She’s napping.” Sutan smiled, taking another bite of his food. “She hasn’t been feeling well since we got here.”

“Oh no! Is she sick?”

“Violet doesn’t do well in tropical climates.”

“That’s the understatement of the year.” Karl smirked, taking a drink of his beer. “She’s looked like shit since we got here.”

The comment caused Bianca to get out a guffaw of laughter.

“Karl, what the fuck?” Sutan snorted, looking at his friend with an annoyed glance.

“I’m only telling the truth.”

Sutan looked like he was just about to continue his dressing down of Karl, when Raja cut in. “She’s obviously miserable. I really don’t know why you brought her here, brother dear.”

“Because I love her?”

Raja turned her attention to Courtney, a half smile on her lips. “We went to Indonesia last year, just to say hi to the family that hasn’t seen our twins yet, and Violet was sick from the moment we got there.”

“To be fair.” Raven chimed in. “I’d like to remind you that you were we the one that insisted we all had roadside Gado-Goda and plastic bag wine.”

/////

“Ahem.”

Fame looked up into Courtney’s face, blood pressure rising as the blonde shifted awkwardly. She plastered on her biggest, warmest smile.

“Hello, Courtney.”

“Hi, miss...um…” Why did Courtney always turn back into a stammering, self-conscious 21 year old around Fame?

“Umh.”

What should she even say? Despite Adore’s assurances that everyone was thrilled that she was coming, it was abundantly clear that Fame felt quite the opposite. So Courtney cleared her throat and settled on a lame, “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, dear.”

“And um...thank you for letting me tag along.”

Fame smiled again. So they were pretending that she’d had a choice in the matter? Well, fine. Fame could play. Especially when she sensed Bianca’s presence so close by.

“Of course, darling.” Fame touched Courtney’s arm, giving an Oscar winner performance of someone who cared. “We’re just so blessed to have a movie star grace us with her presence.”

If prayer worked, a hole would open up on the beach and swallow Courtney right up.

“Th-thanks…” With nothing else to add, Courtney backed away, nearly running to get back to Jinkx’ side.

Bianca leaned over Fame’s shoulder, softly mimicking her voice. “We’re just so blessed-”

“Oh hush.” Fame shivered, Bianca’s breath hot against her ear. “I’m doing my best.” Fame bit her lip, annoyance eating away at her.

Bianca dumped down next to her, rolling her eyes, the same strange vibe radiating from Bianca.

“So. Courtney’s here.” Bianca said to her, trying to keep her voice low. “That’s fun,”

“Fun? Is that what you call it?” Fame asked, adding in an equally quiet but furious voice, “I can’t believe you. This is my birthday, and it’s not like I bop along to whatever pop trash she puts on the radio. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me-”

“Didn’t tell you? I didn’t know she was coming!”

“... You didn’t?”

“No! I almost had a heart attack when I saw her!” Bianca exclaimed, then shook her head. “I’m gonna kill Adore...”

“Can I help?”

Bianca laughed, leaning a head on Fame’s shoulder. “Shit.”

“Are you gonna be okay? I know you haven’t seen her since-”

“I’ll be fine.”

Fame relaxed a bit, thinking to herself that maybe having Courtney there wouldn’t ruin things after all.

/////

{I brought you lunch.}

{You’re doing it again.}

{Doing what?}

“Speaking French.”

Violet looked up from her magazine, the stack next to her chair almost 20 volumes tall. She turned her face up, Sutan giving her a quick kiss, his lips soft against hers.

Sutan had laughed when she had cleared out a Relay at the Charles de Gaulle airport, her old backlog of unread magazines in her own suitcase. Violet tried to make time to keep up. Fashion magazines was what brought her from the New York City Ballet to Parsons, and while studying one of the biggest reasons she had learned french was so she could read L’Official, Numéro, Vestoj, and the french editions of Vogue, Elle and Marie Claire. When she had worked as Fame’s assistant, she had been able to stuff one in her purse and bring it out whenever the was a few moments of quite or waiting.In design Trixie had almost demanded they kept up. At Dior though, they rarely had a moment of not being on their feet, the dresses they produced so much more labor intense no matter if it was for the Haute Couture runway or if it was for a private client. Violet loved every second of it, loved how she was challenged, how she learned new techniques every single day watching the absolute masters of their craft in work by beading delicate patterns or pulling a single thread to make a stunning gown pop from flat fabric into the silhouette it was supposed to be.

“Oh?” Sutan looked confused for a second, before he laughed, the warm sound coming from the bottom of his chest. “I guess I am.”

“Thank you.. You didn’t have to.”

“I did.” Sutan smiled. “Can’t have you starving, right?”

Sutan sat down, and Violet sat up straight, a small smile on her face. Violet looked at the platter of food Sutan had brought her, the fruit looking delicious, though she felt scared of even touching it, another spell of nausea hitting her halfway back to the cabin after breakfast.

“Bon appetit.”

Violet sometimes wondered what it was like inside her boyfriend’s head - Indonesian, English and French all swirling around. She had no idea how he didn’t go into a near catatonic stage with all the sounds of his friends around him, Sutan easily switching to Indonesian with Raja, while Raven spoke Russian to her twins if she felt like it and even Adore and Bianca could go off in broken Spanish, both insisting they knew the language though they could barely cobble together two sentences.

Violet took a banana, peeling it slowly.

“Do you want to go to the beach?”

Violet took a bite out of the fruit, no nausea twisting in her stomach, so she took another bite, the banana sweet on her tongue.

“Ouch!” Violet looked down, Sutan smiling as he had just pinched her toe, her poor defenseless feet laying on the ottoman. “What did you do that for?”

“Are you coming?”

“Was it that good for you?” Violet pulled her foot to her, rubbing her toes. “Because I have to say I’m not very turned on.”

“I promise to inform you if I suddenly develop a fetish for pinching your toes.” Sutan already had all his things packed, his towel slung over his shoulder. “Now come on, we have to get the waves while they’re still good.”

Violet had heard Sutan perfectly well the first time he had mentioned going to the beach, but she had hoped he would have forgotten about it.

“You know I can’t swim.”

Sutan looked stunning, his hair barely styled, his skin already glowing from the sun, not that Violet had any idea how since hadn’t even been in Brazil for a full 48 hours.

“Please?”

Sutan was wearing tan khaki shorts and an open white shirt, and Violet considered for a moment if going to the beach would be worth it just to watch Sutan run around. Hadn’t Detox said something about a volleyball game? Violet was just about to agree, when she felt a small yawn sneak up on her. Besides, if she went, she’d have to change into the bathing suit she had brought with her, which she had barely even been able to look at it, too worried what her body would look like in it.

“I’d rather not.”  

“Fine.” Sutan looked almost defeated, and Violet felt a sharp sting in her heart. He leaned in, kissing her lips. “Last chance?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

[lunaschild2016]

Bad Girls World: Chapter 3

Rated T (Language, some sexual content, violence)

Inspired and titled after the song Bad Girls World by Halestorm

Her life could have turned out differently. There was a time when she felt like she could have read how it would go, word for word, from a playbook that other girls just like her had lived a million times over. One event set about a change that erased the pages and freed her to write her own story. Eric/Tris, No Divergent Hunts, AU

(This will be a slow burn or build up to the Eris)

@kenzieam  @pathybo  @jaihardy @every-jai @ericdauntless @beautifulramblingbrains @bookgirlthings @jojuarez26 @oddsnendsfanfics @offroadinjandals @singingpeople @iammarylastar @irasancti @captstefanbrandt @clublulu333 @fuckthatfeeling @tigpooh67 @ex-bookjunky  @jughead-wuz-here wuz-here @badassbaker @beanzjellly @beltz2016 @meganbee15 @affabletimelady @scorpio2009 @gylisaa @geekybeyondallreason @violetsonthelam @kyloswarstars @emmysrandomthoughts @kgurew @beltzboys2015-blog @slytherin-princess-25273 @whatwouldbuffydo666 @jaiboomer11 @holamor @wealwayskeepfighting @original46

***************************************************************************************

**I promise I have put the read more option in but it has been glitching. If I have forgotten someone or you want to be removed please message me!**

Chapter 3

The woman wearing all black circles me appraisingly and slowly. My mother is to the side and sits patiently while I get poked and prodded. The woman named Hana moves and pinches my arms or legs in places. I keep silent and try not to squirm while she does this. Not exactly uncomfortable with her touch but more with the fact that I am wearing what will be my training clothes. A sports bra and leggings with a tight tank top that I am allowed to wear over it, but not when I am doing what Hana called sparring.

It is two months since my parents talked to me and my brother. It apparently took time to arrange certain things for me to learn to fight but there have been many other things going on until then.

Home life has been radically changed for me.

First, it was determined that for the remainder of the school year I would be kept home and schooled there. Because I couldn’t be left to myself for all those hours, that meant I went along with my mom to the Volunteer Center. I already spent a good amount of time there with her anyways when I wasn’t in school so that didn’t bother me. It was actually kind of nice. There was an office there that had a computer set up for the center to run properly. I did some lessons on that while also being put to work in doing whatever was needed, since I was already there.

When she wasn’t in the Volunteer Center, my mother had other responsibilities that required her to go to other factions. I got to go with her on these occasions. I knew that Dauntless took the train to travel over the city but I didn’t realize other factions did as well. I found out that there were some places that couldn’t be reached by bus, and for those, we ended up taking the train. I got a crash course on train jumping and I realized that all those Dauntless I have watched over the years make it look easy.

Once I got the hang of it though, I never wanted to take the lumbering bus again!

Amity was exactly like I pictured it from the descriptions in faction history and by the look and behavior of the dependents I have seen at school. Although I liked when we would make trips to Amity, I was also very glad when we could leave. The constant cheerfulness became creepy to me after a time.

It probably didn’t help that once I got to experience the horror that is peace serum.

My mother had been with Johana and few other Amity elders discussing the harvest and how many volunteers from the factionless and Abnegation would be needed this year. I had been free to explore and a girl that I came to be friendly with offered to keep me company. She took me to the stables to see the horses and a few foals, then we had gone to one of the greenhouses where fragrant flowers are grown that are then later sold at the open markets in the city. When it came time for lunch we made our way to the dome where communal meals are served to all those that were in the area and wanted to eat.

Not one person told me that the yummy bread I was shoving into my mouth would make me a giddy and goofy mess. To them, it had been completely normal and they saw nothing wrong with my radical change in behavior afterward. In that state, I saw nothing wrong with my mother's total amusement and laughter as I skipped my way beside her to the train or how I went around petting and stroking anything soft. It wasn’t until I woke up the next morning with a massive headache and feeling sick to my stomach that I understood something was wrong. She had explained to me about peace serum being in the bread and apologized for not warning me. She had assumed that one of the adults would realize by my clothing and age I needed to be steered away from the bread.

Ever since then I keep well away from any bread in Amity and stick to the fruit, which I have discovered I love.

Food is another big change for me in our house. With the physical activity increase, it was determined we could no longer deprive ourselves of basic and important nutrients. While what we are eating could never be considered decadent, there have been a few things that make their way into our diet more regularly. Before our diet was a fairly set thing day in and day out with no variation. We were allowed to have frozen peas, carrots or broccoli but fresh fruits or veggies weren’t as common. Protein was chicken or fish and both of those are always frozen as well. Breakfast was generally eggs or oatmeal.

Now we still have those but there are more fresh items being added. There is also the addition of protein powders or things like chia seeds. My mother has also spoken with Johanna about getting drops that have vitamins and nutrients for us to take. I have already started to feel like I am getting stronger with these changes.

I have needed that strength and know I will need more as time passes. Even though it took a little while to arrange for my formal fight training, my mother started what she called physical fitness conditioning immediately. She has taught me different exercises I can do in the privacy of our home that help with that. Because I cannot go to the school gym to use the equipment there, she has developed creative ways to use things in our house in place of that equipment.

Our stairs are used for me to run up and down. Milk jugs have been filled with sand and I use those as weights. A length of rope we had laying around is used for what she called jump rope. I also do various stretches and cardio activities on a daily basis. Caleb takes part in much of that but he is on a different schedule than I am so it is only one of us doing a set of exercises at one time while the other person does a different set.

The first thing mom taught me, was how to help me manage my emotions and anger. She taught me breathing techniques and something called meditation. I now have to do this nightly before I go to bed to help me.

One of the conditions to allow me to return to school at the start of the new year is that I have also had to attend a counselor. My father was able to get permission for the counselor to be one from Amity instead of the Erudite one that the school wanted to have me go to.

I have to go once a week to the Hub and meet with them. They basically coach me on the same thing my mother is already teaching me and have me talk about my feelings for thirty minutes.

Today, we are meeting with the woman who was like a sister to my mother in Dauntless. We are at the Volunteer Center in one of the empty rooms used for storing items or that can be set up as a shelter in the winter months. This will be where my training will take place from now on. It is not out of the ordinary for Dauntless to be around the center for various reasons so it was easier to arrange it for here.

“You have gotten her off to a good start, Nat.” Finally, she speaks and gives a nod of approval. “I am sure you know she needs more muscle tone but I agree to the things you have laid out in the plan.” She addressed mom while not looking at her then switched gears and started speaking to me directly for the first time since she arrived.

“Keep up the conditioning exercises at home and you can do more here as well when you meet with who I have in mind to take over. We will add to those as we start you out on getting the basics for fighting down. The fighting portion of training probably won’t happen until school lets out. We are going to be limited to meeting here once or twice a week so it might take a bit until you are to the level needed.”

“Who do you have in mind for the training and sparring partner?” My mother asks where she is still sitting.

Hana looks at her after giving me a smile and a nod, telling me it is okay to relax. It is the first smile she has given me since entering and it is like she becomes a totally different person.

“I would have Amar, but he is taking over planning and scheduling for training for all the departments to try and unify them. If I asked, he would try to fit it in regardless of how overworked he already is.”

My mother nods and frowns. “He definitely would. I know if you told him who it is for he would move heaven and earth to try and make time but we can’t add to what I am sure is a lot on his plate.”

“Agreed. I knew we would want someone that could keep quiet and not raise suspicions though. So, I have been talking to Tori about helping out.”

My mom looked surprised. “Tori?”

At a motion from my mom, I went behind the makeshift changing screen to get back in my normal clothes but I listened in as Hana answered.

“Yeah, after thinking about it, she is perfect. First, there is what happened with George. She has always felt she had a debt for the help you guys offered in that situation. I know we could trust her to keep this quiet and she would want to help. Her being a tattoo artist gives her flexibility in the schedule that we will need. Also, if Tori is seen with Bea for any reason it wouldn’t raise questions like being with a male would. We could always say she is escorting her for an errand that needed to be run for the volunteer center. The last reason is that Tori was a transfer. Not only that but a female transfer. She is going to know from experience what it took for her to get through initiation and whatever difficulties she had during it. It isn’t just the physical we need to prepare her for but just, the entire way of life.”

“That makes sense. I am sure Tori will do just fine.” I hear my mom agree just as I am coming around the corner. “Who were you thinking for when she needs to spar?”

Hana smiles at me as I come into view with the training clothes and hand those over to be put away safely. “My boys have a friend that I think would be perfect. Maricela's second oldest, Lynn. I can trust her to keep quiet and she takes training seriously.”

“You have kids?” I ask in a burst of excitement. Not only would I know someone in Dauntless if I met them, but my mother looked at Hana as a sister, so that would make them cousins of a sort.

My mom and Hana laugh lightly. “I do. I can guess what you are thinking, and while I would love nothing better than to introduce you to them, we can’t yet. Zeke, I am sure I could threaten into keeping quiet but Uriah, as much as I love him, would never be able to keep this a secret. He would be just as excited as I can see you are to get know his cousins. We will arrange for you to meet but it will have to wait until closer to your choosing age.”

I swallowed my disappointment and nodded with understanding. Then I remember that I will at least get to know someone my age from Dauntless and the excitement is back. “So when will I meet Lynn?”

“I won’t let her know until school lets out and by then we should have you ready to start sparring.”

That was four months away but it might as well be years for me right now.

Hana left shortly after that, she and my mom talked more about what could help both Caleb and me. Caleb opted to read the books on self-defense first before he started to practice, so Hana got him those to start on. She added to our protein powder but this one was in a strawberry flavor. She said it was a favorite of hers but to let her know if we wanted to try another flavor I would need to have at least one shake every day to help build and keep my muscle tone.

“Time to go get your schoolwork done, Beatrice.” My mom said with a smile as we headed back towards the main part of the center.

I grimaced and tried not to sulk.

On the way to the office, we passed a boy a bit older than me with his head down and shuffling as he walked.

“Oh, Tobias. I forgot you would be coming in today.” My mom called out the boys name, causing him to stop.

I studied him as they talked. I hadn’t recognized him but I do recognize the name. Tobias Eaton, Marcus Eaton’s son. Since the death of his mother several years ago he had become a mystery. He was rarely seen and when he was, he barely interacted with anyone.

He looked up and met my eyes for a second and I realized I was staring at him. I blushed at being caught and looked away.

“Beatrice, this is Tobias Eaton. You two will be working together frequently. He is joining the volunteer center as of today.” My mom gives formal introductions as he and I shuffle awkwardly.

“Are you in trouble too?” I blurt out the question and then redden as I realize I spoke that out loud.

My mother gives a cough that sounds like a masked laugh and clears her throat.

“No, that is just you Beatrice.” She holds me with a stern gaze before it softens and she looks back to Tobias.

I look at him and see he is studying me with his head tilted and his brown eyes filled with curiosity. That goes away with a frown that makes his forehead wrinkle when he finds me looking back at him.

“I should get to work.” He mutters and then shuffles off after a nod from my mother.

I watch him going with a sense of deep curiosity. Tobias Eaton had been the subject of much gossip among the adults after the death of his mom years ago. I was pretty young when Evelyn Eaton died in childbirth and I don’t even remember what she looked like. From what I remember during that time, there was a surprise she was pregnant but I also remember that it was said she was pretty shy and reclusive.

It seemed like her son took after her. So much so, that despite Tobias’ father working closely with my own, I haven’t seen him until just today. He is a mystery with the way he seems to try and curl in on himself.

There had been something in his eyes I couldn’t determine but what I did see had me resolving to get to know the boy with such deep sadness buried inside.