#thanks so much for the prompt romeo! it gave me an excuse to write this scene thats been living rent free in my head for two months

[dracolichbitch]

"Why did you do that?" for the prompts perhaps? 👀

Ok so this is insanely long so most of it is going to be under a readmore because i'm not totally evil but because i'm a bastard the majority of it is exposition leading up to the prompt LMAO

Anyway here's Dirge my Banite tav and Urami my dragonborn durge from my dead three evil polycule au

There is something that everyone, from wizards to knaves knew, or at least found out before the untimely ends of their lives, and that is if one is unable to perceive danger, even in the darkest moments of night in their sleep, then they will not survive for long. Maybe it was the chill in her tent being driven away by his mere presence that woke her. Maybe it was the rustling of the tent flap. Or maybe it was something less tangible, more metaphysical. His killing intent directed at her. Whatever it was, it caused her to stir and force her aching eyes open despite the burning behind her lids.

What she saw would’ve chilled anyone else to the bone.

The first thing she could pick out was his glowing crimson eyes in the darkness. Two piercing daggers of baleful rage staring directly at her. Next were the scarlet scales marking his body, arcing across his chest like lightning, iridescent and illuminated by the force of his Urge against the rest of his black scales, as she quickly learned was always the case when he had all but lost control. And then her eyes adjusted to the dark, and focused in on the more minute details. The dagger firmly grasped in his hand. The tension in his shoulders. His uneven breathing. Most importantly, how he stood stock still, as if frozen, in the opening of her tent.

Anyone else would’ve been terrified of the Dragonborn. But she knew him, and for most that would be even more reason to be frightened, but she wasn’t most people. Tadpole or not, she still drew off Aylin’s immortality.

Even if he were to strike her down, like he had many times before, she would simply come back.

That knowledge bolstered her courage as she slipped out of her bedroll and rose to her feet. She made sure to approach him slowly, as though not to startle him, even though she knew out of the two of them, she was the one who should be afraid. She took a step closer, and then another, and then she was chest to chest with him, nose to nose.

She reached up gently and placed her hands on his bare chest.

“Urami… It’s ok.” She whispered, both for his benefit, as well as to avoid the risk of waking the others. He hadn’t told them of his urges, and thus neither had she. Though she kept much of what she knew about him to herself thus far in an attempt to explain things slowly, she had quietly revealed she was well aware of his urges, and promised to help him deal with them.

If that meant taking his dagger into her chest herself then so be it.

He recoiled from her touch, staggering backwards out of the tent. All without a word.

It was only now that she’d come closer that she noticed what she couldn’t at a distance. His eyes were open but he wasn’t awake.

The fact that he’s able to resist the Urge to this degree even in his sleep is astonishing. She noted as she followed him out of her tent, less concerned for her own safety and more for his. The Urge has a nasty habit of redirecting his knife hand towards himself if he resists for too long. Having shared his bed for so long, she knew that better than anyone.

Urami didn’t look at her, and certainly didn’t say anything to her as he stalked away from her tent with renewed vigor in his step, and it only took a moments glance around to realize whose tent he was going for.

That bard that just showed up. Well, at least its not anyone important. Dirge noted as she was quick to cast a silence spell around the tent and the area around it. It wouldn’t do for the screams to alert anyone else in camp.

She watched Urami slip inside the tent, and waited.

She didn’t have to wait for long. She was well aware that when suppressed to this point, simply killing wasn’t enough to sate the Urge. Now, it wanted to play.

Alfira crawled out of her tent on her hands and knees, jaw working soundlessly as she tried to scream, tears pouring from her bright, glowing eyes. One hand clutched her abdomen as she struggled in futility to get away from Urami.

Urami who wasn’t far behind her. He slipped out of the tent in a single fluid motion, and Dirge knew that even without her silence spell, he wouldn’t have made a sound. He watched Alfira try to crawl away, try to struggle to her feet, but with a swift kick to her side, he rolled her onto her back instead before kneeling in the dirt beside her, his dagger at the ready.

As a necromancer, Dirge had done her fair share of dismantling bodies only to put them back together, but her skills with a blade couldn’t hold a candle to the sheer ease with which Urami wielded his and took Alfira apart. He moved with brutal, methodical precision that came from years of experience, and even if Dirge had a change of heart and wanted to help the poor girl, not even her skills could’ve saved her.

It was only when Alfira’s flailing and twitching ceased, and Urami relaxed, that she approached him. She knelt down in the blood and dirt of his murder and wrapped her arms around his chest, hugging him close. She rested her head against his back in the space between his shoulders and sighed softly at the heat pouring off him, driving the chill of the night from her bones.

It was over. It was done. There was nothing left to it now except to clean up the mess, and she was nothing if not good at manipulating dead bodies.

********************************************************

Rivers of blood deep enough to bathe in and a throne of skulls haunted his dreams, as well as the dark, lifeless eyes and pale corpse of Dirge, and as he began to stir, he feared his dreams had become reality as the first thing he noticed as he breached into the waking world was the thick, cloying scent of blood and fear. The second thing he noticed was the sticky wetness coating his hands and clinging to his bare skin. It was only when he forced his eyes open and saw the body before him that he felt the first heavenly scraps of relief.

It wasn’t her. It wasn’t Dirge. It was that tiefling bard whose name he never cared to remember. A deep shuddering sigh of relief escaped his chest.

He didn’t know what god to thank for this, so he’d settle for thanking all of them.

“Are you awake now?” Soft as fresh fallen snow, Dirge’s familiar voice whispered from behind him.

It was only now that he felt it. The tightness of her arms snaked tight around his chest. The warmth of her body pressed against his bare back. The gentle brush of her breath against his scales.

His heart twisted in his chest as he took it all in, as he silently basked in the feeling of her pressed against him. Fear and confusion afflicted him though, and there was only so much comfort he could take from the way she held him so close as his eyes lingered on the corpse in front of him.

What have I done? Does she know? Is she aware? She has to. There’s no way she doesn’t. So why is she holding me like this?

“I don’t… What is…” He struggled to give form to his thoughts and turn them into verbal words. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the body even as his mind repeated the same words over and over again.

Sheknowssheknowssheknows.

Dirge shushed him gently, and tightened her arms around him. Without warning, she ran her fingers down the center of his chest, right over his sternum in a gentle stroke.

Despite himself, he relaxed under her touch.

“It’s alright. Everything is alright.” She whispered against his skin, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that soft sensation he felt against his neck was her lips brushing the sensitive skin. “But if you’re awake now, lets get this cleaned up before the others awaken and see what has happened.”

Urami swallowed hard even as he nodded and turned his attention back to the corpse in front of him. Bits and pieces were strewn everywhere and the blood was soaking his pants from where he knelt by the body. Judging from how wet and sticky he felt all over, he assumed he’d gotten the gore all over him.

Slowly he rose to his feet, and it was only when he did so that she pulled away from him. The moment her arms left him, and she stepped away from his body, he felt a tingling coldness in her absence. His scales itched in protest of her touch disappearing, but he made no move to scratch them or alleviate the feeling in any way. Not when he didn’t fully understand it. Instead he turned to face her, only for her to come around him anyway to inspect the body.

Between the dying light of the fire in the center of the camp and the moonlight streaming from the sky, there was plenty of light for him to see by, but despite that, in the darkness of the night, her deep blue eyes appeared solid black.

It was only after a moment’s examination of the body that Dirge straightened up, and while he expected some manner of fear, or perhaps disgust to cross her face, she seemed entirely unbothered as she raised her arm, and her eyes glowed with an eldritch green light as she focused her magic.

Urami didn’t have to guess what she was doing. He knew enough about necromancy to gather that she was reanimating the body.

Sure enough, just as he suspected, the murdered tiefling picked herself up off the ground, rising to her feet as easily as if she’d just woken from a midday nap, and as if she were merely gathering up her belongings, the tiefling gathered up her internal organs in her arms before striding out of camp.

Urami watched her go with impassive eyes. He knew he should feel some sort of guilt for killing her, but inside he felt nothing. Nothing, save for relief. He was glad it was her, and not someone else. He resisted the urge to flicker his gaze to Dirge.

Yes, it could’ve been so much worse.

Dirge remained silent as they watched the tiefling leave camp, and it was only when she was out of eyesight that the glow left her eyes and she lowered her hand. Now, she turned to him.

“Now that that’s taken care of, let’s get you cleaned up. Even without the body, the others will probably still question the blood, and it’ll be for the best if you’re not covered in it.” She whispered before gesturing to the stream running alongside their camp.

Slowly, not trusting his voice just yet, he nodded to her words and followed her to the stream. He hesitated at the water’s edge for a moment, staring into the water painted inky black by the night’s darkness before slowly taking the first step into it. A shiver ran up his leg and through his spine at the icy cold water, but he forced himself to take another step, and then another until the water was waist deep. Slowly he turned, and was surprised to see that Dirge had followed him, though she appeared to handle the cold of the water far worse than he did, judging from the tremble in her shoulders.

Still, she didn’t let that stop her from wading out to meet him. She gazed up at him with an unreadable expression once she stood in front of him, and while he couldn’t pick out what she might be feeling from her furrowed brow and strange softness in her dark eyes, he got the sense that whatever it might be, it wasn’t fear.

He couldn’t help how he stared down at her face, taking note of every curve of her face, every stray freckle dotting her temple, one along her jaw, two side by side on her left cheekbone. He committed every detail to memory as if it would be the last time he saw her.

Silently, she began to wash the blood from his body. First the splatters across his chest.

Uncertain as to what to do with his hands while she cleaned him, they ended up resting on her hips. The tips of his claws dented the soft surface of her skin, but he was careful not to press further and draw blood. The very thought of her blood adorning his hands sent a jolt of revulsion through him, a notion the Urge seemed to reject as well.

“Why’re you doing this?” He finally found his voice just as her hands reached up and cradled his face between them, being mindful of the jagged spikes lining his jaws.

“Doing what?” She whispered back as she wiped away a smear of blood from the corner of his lips with her thumb.

With a tense glance back at the slumbering camp, he avoided her eyes. It was hard when he could feel her gaze burrowing into him like a nest of maggots writhing through dead flesh.

“Helping me. You know what I’ve done. If you were smart, you would’ve roused the rest of the camp to deal with me, rather than hide the body and clean up the evidence.”

Her hands stilled against his face, and when he risked a glance back at her, she was frowning.

“I would sooner slit all their throats in their sleep than allow any of them to lay a finger on you, Urami.” She whispered, and though she kept her voice low, there was no hiding the rage in her words.

Urami stared down at her, his grip on her waist tightening almost absentmindedly as he tried to suss out the truth from her expression.

“Why?”

Dirge didn’t respond. Instead, she bit her lip so hard it bled, and as the deep red turned black in the darkness dribbled down her chin, he found himself wondering what it’d taste like.

Almost unbidden the ghost of a memory of dark chocolate and mint came to his mind, so strong, he could almost taste it on his tongue.

Before he could stop himself, he was asking again, “Who are you? And who am I?”

Dirge licked the blood from her lips.

“Like I said, I’m a servant of Bane. You’re a servant of Bhaal. As the Dead Three remain allied, so do we.”

Urami stared down at her silently. She was lying. At least a little bit. She had to be. He didn’t question her further even though he couldn’t get the words out of his mind.

Then why do I know what you taste like?

[be-dazzled]

Hey! Can you do a prompt where gray is jealous and juvia has no clue. Thanks!!

Writer’s Corner: Here you go! I’ve been watching a lot of video clips of the new FT Game and got some inspiration to write! And it surprised me how straight and fast I did this one. Like, straight and pure English words. Phew! Hope you like this.

Masterlist

Prompt: Jealous Gray and Juvia Doesn’t Know

Finally. Finally, Gray and Juvia finished the fight with that odd Dodecapus – a sea creature with twelve tentacles – wreaking havoc on the small town. But in Gray’s opinion, they could have finished the job far earlier than they actually did. He couldn’t help but think that maybe, he and Juvia fell out of sync. It had been awhile since they went on a job together. Maybe, they should train and take job requests together more often; that would solve the problem.

He stretched his arms behind his head and cracked his neck from right to left. Damn, that felt good. Every muscle in his body was sore and not the good kind. That freaking Dedocapus did him good; wouldn’t back down without a fight, that silly thing. Gray really needed to get some rest. He wondered if Juvia would be okay to postpone the travel home to tomorrow. She probably would. Remembering how she had wanted to spend the night together before, just the two of them, he was almost certain she’d agree. A silly smile crept up his face and his eyes wandered over at the Water Mage walking distractedly beside him. Yeah! That’s right. Juvia had been distracted since they came to town. Could it be the reason it took them a little over half a day to fight the Dedocapus? Because she couldn’t focus? It wasn’t her usual ‘Gray-sama Trance’ distraction either. So, should he be worried?

“Juvia.” He called out but it seemed like the water mage didn’t hear him say her name. She was still very much preoccupied, looking out to her left and right as if expecting something would just jump at her out of the blue.

Now, he was worried.

He stopped and turned fully to her, bumping into the woman who walked right into him. Gray caught her by the arms and helped her steady herself.

“Are you alright?” He tried very much to keep the worry out of his voice, which was unnecessary since Juvia didn’t seem to hear him ask.

She just looked at him, dazed for a second, before she regained her composure and slapped that practiced smile across her face. They were together for too long for Gray not to recognize that fake smile.

Well, not together “together” but…

“Juvia apologizes, Gray-sama. She must not have seen you for a moment there.”

Juvia not seeing him even for a second? Now, he should really, really be worried. Gray withdrew his hands before Juvia get the wrong idea and kept them in his pockets.

“Well, yeah. You seem… out of it.” Gray could see her think for a moment. Then, she seemed to have reached a decision and, to dispel any of his worries, Juvia put up a brighter personality, raising her fists in the air and declared, “Juvia will be more mindful.”

Knowing Juvia, she’d rather keep to herself whatever it was that was bothering her in order not to be a burden to him. He’d really wish she’d tell him but Gray was never one to push. He would wait until she was ready. For the meantime, he asked Juvia about postponing the travel home and maybe the next day, when she was feeling a bit better, he’d ask her to stroll around the town. He’d make up some lame excuse about buying everyone souvenirs, which if anyone who’d hear would call bull.

“Would you mind if we stay in this town for a while? I’d like to catch up for some much needed rest and–”

“–Juvia-san?”

An unfamiliar voice called out from behind the Water Mage. Unlike Gray, Juvia seemed to recognize it. She turned around to meet the owner of the voice while Gray searched his memory for that parted black and white hair walking up to them.

“Totomaru-san?”

Then, it hit Gray. This guy was one of Phantom Lord’s Element 4 and Juvia’s acquaintance. But the same guy that hurt his friends. A bitter taste burned in Gray’s stomach as that bright smile crept up that Totomaru-san’s face, looking so happy to see them – to see Juvia. Gray glanced at his partner to check if she was reacting to him the same.

She was.

Totomaru caught up with them, smiling ear to ear to see Juvia.

“Wow, it really is you.” He looked momentarily taken-aback, an amused smile freezing on his face. “Didn’t recognize you without the…” Gray inwardly snickered watching the man, as if in a game of charades, motion to refer to Juvia’s old hairstyle. “Without the rolled hair.” He finished when none of them could guess what he was referring to with that silly bounce of his open palm. Gray guessed but he wasn’t feeling too friendly to engage.

“Are you guys… visiting?”

Gray liked the hesitance he could sense from this Toto-whatever punk. He was probably thinking he and Juvia came to town together, which was actually the case. Not in the sense that Toto-whatever might have thought but still…

“No, Totomaru-san. Gray-sama and Juvia are here for a mission.”

“Oh, good!”

But he didn’t like the sudden rush of relief and a new confidence found by Totomaru-bastard.

“Would you like to get-together while you’re in town? It’s been a while since I last saw you.”

And definitely hated that slimmer of hope shining in his black goofy eyes. The bastard.

“W-well…”

Gray crossed his arms, a bit elated at Juvia’s hesitation. ‘That’s it, Juvia. Say no,’ the smug on his face said.

“Gray-sama did say he wanted to stay awhile longer.” She glanced at him with a sheepish smile – a bit asking and a bit expectant.

Gray dropped his arms and coughed into his fist to bid some time to recover. Well, he wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t expect Juvia would actually like to hang around that guy. But Gray had yet to make a decision when Totomaru chided in.

“I can show you around town then.” He pushed. “A lot has changed since you moved to Magnolia.”

That bastard was treating Gray like he wasn’t standing there. He probably didn’t notice the Ice Make mage since that punk’s eyes were laser-focused on Juvia.

His Juvia.

“I mean, look at you. You even got prettier.”

“Thank you, Totomaru-san.” Juvia beamed at him, blushing at the compliment.

It didn’t sit well with Gray but he shouldn’t be getting pissed at someone giving Juvia a compliment. There was nothing wrong with someone complimenting Juvia because she really was pretty. Always been pretty. Very much attractive, if he’d let himself admit. He eyed the man who called Juvia pretty, looking him from head to toe, sizing him up. Totoma-whatever didn’t look so bad but he had nothing compared to Gray, of course. He was Gray-sama to Juvia, the best guy that ever existed on this planet. Juvia adored him. Remembering that, Gray’s confident smirk returned. Hah. That Totoma-punk could keep dreaming on. Juvia was devoted to Gray. She was his.

But Totoma-punk made her smile with that silly compliment.

His gloating smirk quickly dropped and getting ‘pissed’ at a simple compliment became the understatement of the century because a vein in his head was about to pop.

“Gray-sama?”

He withdrew his ‘not so discreet’ glare from the fire-prick and looked at Juvia.

“If Gray-sama isn’t too tired, maybe we could…”

“I guess. We wouldn’t be able to catch the train anyway.”

Juvia chirped, clapping her hand together and declaring that it’s a date.

Forget the sore muscles. Forget his tired feet. Forget his body screaming for a rest. He wasn’t going to let that Totomastard (Totomaru the bastard) be alone with Juvia. No way.

…

Gray wasn’t the jealous type. He wasn’t. In fact, you could never put the words Gray and jealous in one sentence. Never. He just hated the guy. Hated the man who hurt his friends. Yeah, that’s why he was so ready to throw his fist down the bastard’s throat. That’s the only reason. That’s all there was to it, really. Totomastard was a former Fairy Tail enemy.

But weren’t Juvia and Gajeel also a former enemy of Fairy Tail? Gray said don’t ruin his reason with logic.

“I’ll go get us more beer.” Totomaru excused himself from their table in the town’s famous open night market.

When he walked out of earshot, Gray could feel the tension from his shoulders go away and he could finally breathe. The bastard could really taaaaalk, reminiscing about the memories which didn’t include Gray. Granting, it was a ‘Phantom Lord Days’ memory which really did not include him, Gray still felt like the Fire Mage, and apparently, Romeo’s Magic teacher, went out of his way to make him feel out of place. He snickered. Phantom Lord my ass. She’s ours now. She’s Fairy Tail’s. Besides, it didn’t even sound like they were actually close.

“Does Gray-sama not like this place? Juvia can ask Totomaru-san to find a new–”

“–It’s fine, Juvia.” He stopped cracking his neck and pretended like he was just scratching the back of his head.

“If Gray-sama is tired, we can end the night early.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” He shot back what remained of his beer and smashed the can on the table with his fist. He only noticed now the other two crushed beer cans next to him. “Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself.” He gave her a small smile so Juvia would stop worrying about him.

“Oh, right. It’s just… it’s been a while since Juvia returned to Oaktown.”

Upon mentioning the name of the town, it suddenly hit Gray. He hated himself for not noticing it earlier or not remembering about the town when he first read the name on the job request.

“You used to live here, right?” Idiot. That’s why she was so distracted earlier. “Before you transferred to Fairy Tail?”

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. You are a freaking, dumb-ass droopy eyes. He could hear Natsu’s voice in his head.

“Yes.” Juvia took another sip from her own can like a lady.

“Is that why you were so…” He stopped himself before he could say something that Juvia would take to blame herself. “I mean, you were kinda out of it, is all.”

“The people around here used to be afraid of Juvia, the Rain Woman.”

Gray could clearly picture out what ugly memory brought that gloom in her usually bright blue eyes. The alcohol might have helped too so he was going to take that away from her. Alcohol and Juvia never mixed well together. Gray grabbed the can from her hand and finished it.

“Well, that’s all in the past now.” So was Totomaru. He flattened the can again and tossed the crumpled tin can next to the others. He might have been very casual when he said it but the words helped her, somehow, because now she was staring at the group of crushed beer cans on their table. The sorrow that wet her eyes quickly disappeared and replaced with something Gray was more accustomed with.

“K-k-kiss.”

“What?”

“I-i-indirect k-kiss!”

Gray wasn’t sure anymore if it were his words that brought her out of that dreadful memory.

“Oi! Were you even listening?!”

…

“I-I don’t remember you being this… h-heavy.” Gray grunted, expelling a long breath. Juvia wasn’t really that heavy but Gray wasn’t in the condition to carry her all the way to their hotel room after all that fighting with a weird sea creature and hating on Juvia’s former guild-mate.

“Juvia is heavy?” The Water Mage fell out of the bed Gray put her on, bawling her eyes out at his comment. Great. He managed to insult the sad drunk. Didn’t Erza warn him never to talk about a woman’s weight? Now, cue in the water works.

“Oi!” Gray aimed to pull her up and put her back to bed but Juvia surprised him when she pulled him down with her on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, threw her arms around him and cried against his chest, mumbling about her endless efforts to lose weight.

“That’s not… you’re not… you’re not heavy. I was just… Forget what I said.”

But she kept crying into his chest, wetting his shirt with her river of tears. Gray let her, getting used to this Juvia – the sad drunk. He tried to soothe her, stroking her hair and patting her back. After her cries died down to just bouts of sobs, Juvia pulled away from Gray, but only far enough so she could look at him right into his onyx eyes. What she did next shocked Gray’s soul out of his body. Now, he had to add ‘hits people’ to Juvia’s drunken mannerisms.

“Why would Gray-sama not take advantage of Juvia?”

“What?!”

“Even when it’s just the two of us, Gray-sama wouldn’t make a move on Juvia.”

“I’m not that kind of guy.”

Gray could still feel the heat of Juvia’s palm on his cheek. Man, that woman’s slap was something. Undeniably, Juvia was one of the strongest wizards in Fairy Tail. But instead of getting mad, Gray was smiling. He was quite amused, honestly. Sober Juvia would never ever hit him like that.

Wow.

Then, sad drunk Juvia started hitting him again. The later ones didn’t have much strength and intention than the first slap. But they still hurt so Gray caught her wrists in each hand to stop her from striking him.

“Everyone’s hitting on Juvia but Gray-sama wouldn’t even make a move.” She accused between sniffs.

“W-w-what? Who?! Totomaru?” Gray could feel his blood boiling. He was right! He was right, all along! That guy was pretending to ‘get together’ when he was really planning on stealing Juvia away. What a prick! “When? When I left to take a leak?”

He wanted to hit himself for leaving Juvia alone with that bastard.

“Gray-sama was even making googly eyes with Totomaru-san.”

“What the hell! When did I ever do that?”

“Gray-sama never looked at Juvia with such passion.”

Of course, it was with passion, Gray thought. Passion to throw the guy off some building.

“I was glaring at that bastard!”

“Glaring?”

What were left from Juvia’s sobbing were occasional hiccups as she studied Gray for a moment, analyzing what he just said. Then, the hitting started again.

“Why wouldn’t Gray-sama pay attention to Juvia like that?”

Oh, hell. There was no reasoning out with a drunken woman. So, Gray pulled her back against him, wounded his arms around her so tightly that she couldn’t even move a muscle. She tried to wiggle her way out of his hold, to hit him some more he guessed, but Gray was determined and very much sobered up. What, from all the hits he took from her that would last him a lifetime? Any alcohol from his body was whooshed out by the first slap.

When the alcohol started to wear out and Juvia finally calmed down, Gray decided it was time he also gets some rest. He lifted Juvia off the floor, carrying her on both arms. His actions didn’t seem to startle her but quite the opposite effect. Juvia snuggled comfortably against his chest, mumbling something about warmth. Gray just wrote it off as drunken talk and gently lowered Juvia on the double mattress and tucked her in. She looked peaceful now that she was fast asleep. Finally, Gray could get himself some shut-eye. As he looked around to find his own place in the room to sleep for tonight, his eyes caught the glow on her tear-stricken face as the moonlight seeped through the window and hit her cheek. He dried the tears with the back of his hand, a bit guilty for causing those tears that tainted her beautiful face.

“Beautiful.” He whispered. “I don’t even know how it’s possible.” Gray knelt beside the bed, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind Juvia’s ear. “Everyday you grow even more beautiful.” But his smile was strained by something he’d been keeping to himself for a very long time. “So, if I make a move on you, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back.”

Gray closed his eyes, every moment of him wanting to give in to his feelings played in his head. He took a deep breath to ease the burden he’d caged in his heart. He convinced himself he needed to be more patient. As soon as he opened them, Gray’s onyx eyes sought her lips. He started to lean in, to allow himself a taste of something he’d deprived himself. But when their lips were about to touch, a voice in his head had kept him from impulsively giving into his desire once again. It wasn’t right to steal a kiss from Juvia while she was asleep. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Sometimes, he’d hate himself for not being that kind of guy. But Juvia was too special for him to disrespect her like that. So, like always, Gray held himself back. He pressed a kiss on her forehead instead, rose to his height and slept in a corner of the room, as far away from Juvia as possible.

[bohemianrequiem]

Here’s my Codeswapped gift for @nemesisadraste ! I had so much fun writing for Sam and expanding upon her relationship with Odd and the other Lyoko Warriors. I hope you have just as much fun reading it!

Prompt - Sam becomes a Lyoko Warrior

If you had told Sam earlier today that her evening would be taking a turn for the unexpected, she wouldn’t have doubted it-

Things were always that way when Odd was around and that was how she liked it. The unpredictability of their dates as a simple plan for dinner would turn into an hours long romp through the market district of town, both of them perusing clothes neither one could afford, was just another part of the fun of their relationship. Funnily enough, she had come to begin expecting these little pleasant surprises the more time they spent together. However, there was another trend that Sam was beginning to develop over the last few weeks.

First, Odd’s phone would ring and would with his nonchalant greeting of “What’s up,”followed by the name of one of his various friends from Kadic. Usually Jeremy or Ulrich, sometimes Yumi, and very rarely a strange girl named Aelita would be on the other end. After a moment, Odd’s brow would furrow, his jaw would set, and an uncharacteristic seriousness would envelop his entire person. “For real? Yeah, I’ve got it. On my way.” He would then flip his cell shut and turn his gaze towards Sam, his features slowly softening to the goofy boy she’d come to care so much for.

“Sam, I know what you’re gonna say-“ He placed his hands up in mock surrender, a worried chuckle already slipping past his lips before he could even finish his sentence.

“Let me guess, you’ve gotta go?” Sam sighed, more out of habit than any actual disappointment. Like she’d said, this was becoming a frequent portion of their date nights. At least this time they’d actually got to enjoy a movie together and make it halfway through dinner. Her burger half eaten and now being laid down on a plastic red tray, she shrugged. “Do what you gotta do, man. Text me when you get back to the dorms for the night?”

Odd blinked once, then twice. “A-Are you sure?” Obviously surprised at her lack of frustration at his need to preemptively end their date. Sam just waved her hand in dismissal, as if pushing the worry out of existence.

“Yeah, Dude. I know Kadic’s got you guys doing hella group projects this semester. Go help your friends.” At least, that was the excuse Odd had used before. She might have believed it the first time or two, even if schoolwork wasn’t usually that high up on Odd’s list of priorities, but something about his behavior recently had clued her into the fact that this was about something much bigger than school. “So, go on. I’ll be fine making it back to my place.”

Odd took his bottom lip between his front teeth, a habit that Sam had long since stopped trying to break him of, then nodded. “Thanks, Sam. You’re the best.” He gave a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, then dashed off down the sidewalk. “I’ll text you later, okay?!” He called out over his shoulder as he rounded the first corner.

Another thing Sam had come to accept about Odd was that he was a terrible liar. Case in point, he had literally just ran off in the opposite direction of his school. After a couples minutes of anxious internal debate, she began to follow.

~~~

When Sam arrived at the old factory on the outskirts of the river that cut through town, she had initially worried that she’d lost Odd’s trail and accidentally followed someone else’s. After all, what would Odd be doing at some old place like this?

However, maybe this place wasn’t quite as abandoned as she thought. Despite the paint having chipped off the walls decades ago and piles of scrap iron cropping up throughout the interior, the floor looked relatively clear of dust and other small debris. Somebody, or maybe a groups of somebodies, had obviously been coming through here quite frequently to keep the dust and other objects from settling. That and the ropes hanging from the ceiling, one of which was still gently swaying from side to side as if it had just been handled, clued her into things not being quite what they appeared.

Deciding not to trust the rickety old elevator, which likely didn’t even run anymore, Sam followed one such dust-free path from the main floor of the factory down to another area full of old machines. They looked like the ones used in car factories to put heavy pieces of metal on the chassis of vehicles together, but had obviously been in a state of disuse just as long as much of the factory.

From this room, a winding trail that many times lead Sam to various dead-ends finally culminated in her opening a door into a spacious computer room, complete with some type of projection emanating from the center of the room. A few steps in and she could hear the frantic clicking and clacking of a keyboard across the room. Hidden by the sizable monitor in front of his face, a young boy spoke little.

“Okay, Odd. You should be able to see the construct now.....Yes, I know it’s huge, but you need to get inside of it and regroup with Yumi and Ulrich. I’ve lost contact with them for exactly-“ He checked his watch. “Ten minutes now. And communication with Aelita is spotty, at best. It’s up to you to....to uh....” His eyes lifted from his watch’s face to see Sam standing just a handful of steps into the room.

“Yo,” She put her hand in the area in a tentative wave. “Jeremy, right? I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this isn’t your social studies project, is it?”

Sam swore she could see a vein in Jeremy’s forehead pulse as he slowly sat backwards and readjusted a microphone attached to his earpiece. “Odd? Were you aware that your girlfriend is here at the factory?”

“Hey! I’m right here!” Was he seriously just going to ignore her and act like they weren’t even in the same room together? “Is that really Odd on the other end? Let me talk to him.” She took a number of determined steps towards Jeremy, the boy defensively putting his hands up around his earpiece.

“No, no, I don’t think she’s infected, but she does look awfully upset. What’d you do to her this time, Romeo?” He stood up and put his hands out placatingly. “Samantha, please-“

“It’s Sam,” She interrupted as her march came to a standstill in front of Jeremy, placing her hands on her hips and impatiently tapping her foot. “Never Samantha.”

“Sam. Right.” He nervously adjusted his glasses. “I know this is gonna be difficult to understand, but you can’t talk to Odd right now. He’s on a very important mission right now. Odd’s still here at the factory with us, at least technically, but you’re not going to be able to see him until he’s finished.”

A mission? Was this some kind of code or was this dude seriously losing his marbles? “What do you mean he’s here but he’s not? Why can’t Odd just tell me all this himself, without all the lying and hiding?”

“He’s not hiding, Sam, he’s doing something extremely important. Come look.” Jeremy motioned her over to the computer monitor behind him. As she took in the many blinking lights and constantly changing lines of code, Jeremy sat down and relaxed. “See? He’s right here, located outside of this massive structure the geography of which I’ve been mapping for days now. The only problem is that I can’t quite figure out what’s inside of it. That’s where Odd and the others come in.”

“The others? You mean Yumi, Ulrich, and Canada girl, right?” Sam shook her head. “Wait, wait, so you expect me to believe that Odd’s inside there? Inside the computer?”

Jeremy nodded. “Exactly.”

Sam had come to accept a lot of things about Odd: from his personality, to his hobbies, but this went beyond all of that completely. Just as she was about to voice her disbelief again, a frantic beeping came from the computer. She watched over Jeremy’s shoulder as he began typing with near reckless abandon and spoke into his microphone again.

“Odd, bad news. You’ve got hostile hornets inbound. Four of them by the looks of it.” Four red dots appeared on screen, worryingly close to a blue dot indicating Odd’s location. The hornets zipped around the screen, surrounding Odd and barraging him attacks that Sam couldn’t see. From the way Jeremy’s face contorted with worry, though, she didn’t need to see the attack to know things were bad.

“This isn’t good. The hornets shouldn’t be able to move that fast. It’s like being inside the construct has super charged them or something.” A dull beep sounded and Jeremy tsked. “Odd, you’ve just lost fifteen life points. Be careful!” Sam could barely hear her boyfriend’s voice over the other end and desperately wished she could reach out and answer.

“What happens when he hits zero?” She asked, the quietness of her voice surprising her in the moment.

“What?” Jeremy was busy typing away on the keyboard as he tried to discover the source of the hornets’ sudden power-up.

“I asked you what happens when Odd hits zero life points. You said he already lost fifteen, so what happens to him when he hits zero?”

Jeremy pursed his lips. “He’ll be devirtualized. Right now, he’s inside the computer program, but if he loses all of his life points when he’ll be ousted and return to being here in the factory with us.” He added under his breath with added frustration. “At least, that’s what’s supposed to happen....”

“And what does that mean?” Sam was beginning to lose her patience with Jeremy’s infuriating tendency to under-explain what was going on.

“It means, well, that they aren’t coming back like they’re supposed to.” He leaned back and breathed out a deep sigh. “Yumi and Ulrich have already lost all of their life points, and yet haven’t devirtualized. I can only guess as to why, but their shared code must be stuck in some kind of feedback loop within the simulation. To put it simply...” He looked up to her. “I can’t get them out.”

Sam nearly slammed her hand down on the computer keyboard, but fearing damaging Odd, settled for simply unleashing a verbal tirade onto Jeremy. “And you just sent Odd in there to deal with it by himself? I thought you guys were supposed to be his friends!”

“Of course we are!” Jeremy shouted back. “Odd knows the risk, so do Yumi and Ulrich. He’s not alone though, he has Aelita inside Lyoko to help him and he has me out here to provide support. Ever since we’ve met, we’ve all always had each other’s backs and that’s not going to stop now.”

“Then...” Sam’s gaze turned from Jeremy and settled on the computer screen. Her anger slowly ebbing away and revealing the worry underneath. “What are we going to do now? What can we do to help Odd and the others?”

Jeremy bent over the keyboard. She could practically hear the gears turning inside of his mind - there was a reason his friends all called him Einstein - until he snapped his fingers. “If we could temporarily overload the construct with some bad data, then that should be enough to slow down the hornets and put Odd at a greater advantage.” A flurry of keystrokes filled the air. “But, ah, it’s no use. I have no dominion inside the construction, no access to any towers, and I can’t directly send anything to Aelita in order to sabotage the hornets. If we went that route, I would have had to given the bad data to Odd right as he was being virtualized. But it’s too late now-“

“So give it to me.” Sam cut in. “If you can’t give it to anyone else to make the enemies easier to destroy, then upload the data with me and I can take it to Odd and Aelita.”

“It’s not that simple, Sam.” Jeremy was about to launch into a deep explanation of the danger of a first timer launching themselves into an already precarious situation, before Sam put her hands on the arms of his chair and gently swiveled it around to face her.

“You said you care about Odd, well so do I. I don’t care about what might happen to me, I just want to chance to help.” Her voice was quiet, but sincere. A bit of insincerity slipped in with her next words. “ ‘Sides, I wasn’t asking, Pointdexter. Now put me in before I start keyboard smashing this thing.”

Jeremy thought for a long moment, then another, before slowly nodding. He could see why Odd was so crazy about this girl. “Fine. Head downstairs to the transporters and I’ll guide you from over the speakers. I can’t follow, but I can get you where you need to go from here.”

~~~

It was like a rush of electricity moving up her spine, before spreading throughout her entire body. The next thing she knew, Sam was staggering to the ground and could barely catch herself before falling face first. In her ear, Jeremy’s voice spoke.

“A little rougher than the usual, but not bad for your first time. I kind of had to rush your Lyoko avatar, but it should suffice for the time being. Most of it was procedurally generated anyways so-“

“Dude, c’mon, mission at hand before we start talking technical?” Sam shook her head as if clearing out his voice.

“Right, right, of course. You should be able to see the construct before you, it’s geometry is marginally different from the surrounding sector.” True to his word, her dark eyes scanned upwards and eyed the pale stone fortress before her. It’s coloring clashes drastically with the surrounding fog and light lavender rock of the Mountain Sector.

“The entrance is wide open. Isn’t this usually the part of the game where you have to defeat some kind of gatekeeper or something to get further into the dungeon?” Sam remarked as she swiftly passed into the threshold of the construct fortress.

“This isn’t a game, Sam. This is a matter of whether or not XANA can gain a new foothold within the Lyoko program, thus giving him greater power in the real world.” Jeremy pauses for a moment. “And, uh, Yumi and Ulrich already took care of the krabs guarding the entrance earlier....so there’s that.”

“I knew there had to be a gatekeeper!” Sam yelled triumphantly as she trekked further in. Hard, angular edges formed from what looked like polished stone walls guided her deeper and deeper into the otherworldly building. “So, speaking of mobs, what kind of weapons do I have?”

Jeremy audibly pressed a few buttons on his end and Sam could hear the sound of metal clinking together on her belt. “Like I was saying, I didn’t have much time to code anything too fancy. These digital shurikins should help if you encounter any ranged enemies and this-“ A weight suddenly appeared on her back. “-Is a copy of one of Ulrich’s katanas. I’d suppose you know how to use these?”

“Of course.” Sam chirped. “Sharp end towards the bad guys, then throw and stab, right?” On the other end, Jeremy groaned uncertainly. “Kidding, kidding. I think I can make these work. Now, what about this thing?” She motioned towards the metal gauntlet that encased her right forearm.

“In addition to being armor, it acts the as the containment module for the bad data I need you to inject. Once you engage the enemy, all you have to do is get within striking distance with the gauntlet and then-“

“Uh, Jeremy? I think the enemy’s already here.” After turning a particularly sharp corner, the narrow hallway Sam had been traveling down opened up into a room with high ceilings and expansive flooring. Towards the center, Odd pushed a very weary looking Aelita out of the way of a hornet’s well placed laser blast.

“Get behind me, Princess, these bozos are stronger than they look!” He fire a quick barrage of laser arrows towards the trio hornets, but their impressive speed allowed them to easily dodge each blast.

“No, Odd! Here!” Aelita kneeled down and bowed her head. Within a moment, a rock-like structure the same color as the rocks from the Mountain Sector appeared overhead. It shielded them from the hornet’s blasts, but shuddered with each and everything strike.

Within Sam’s ear, Jeremy voice came to life. “Aelita can’t maintain that barrier forever. And once it breaks, they’ll be totally defenseless. It’s up to you now.” Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Sam removed one of the shurikins from her belt. As the hornets were completely focused on breaking Aelita’s barrier, they all but ignored Sam as she quietly slipped closer towards the enemy.

Angling her shot towards the wall, Sam let one of her bladed weapons fly. The shurikin gained speed as it bounced off the wall and hit it’s mark on the broad side of one of the hornets. The virtual insect fell to the ground, dazed from the sudden damage it had taken.

“Now! Sam!” Jeremy leaned forward in his seat, eyes glued to the screen.

“Already on it, Pointdexter!” She ran forward and, with a small leap, descended upon the hornet. “Slow!” Out of the wrist of her gauntlet popped two bladed prongs, that soon became buried deep into the hornet’s body. It shuddered for a moment as it’s virtual body was pumped full of problematic data manufactured by Jeremy. Sam pulled the prongs out of the hornet’s body and threw up a hand to cover her face as the creature exploded.

Above her, the other hornets shuddered and jerked midflight before falling to the ground. “You’ve done it! The hornets are down for the count, and the rest of the construct’s data steam has been disrupted too.” A few keystrokes pass. “And Ulrich and Yumi are being devirtualized now!”

“So, now what? Do we keep going further in or...?”

“No way. Everyone’s life points are way too low, not to mention you and I are going to have some explaining to do to the others.” Sam nodded her head as Jeremy’s voice left her ear. Before she could ask anymore questions, Odd practically slammed into her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked Sam straight up into the air.

“Sam! You were so cool! You were like ‘pew’, ‘shing’, ‘stab’, ‘jab’, and then you-“ Sam groaned out-loud.

“Dude, cool it! You’re gonna strangle me to death after I literally just saved your life! Put me down!” Odd loosened his near death grip around his girlfriend and slowly lowered her to the ground. He gave a sheepish laugh. Beside him, Aelita giggled at his bashfulness in front of Sam.

“Right, sorry. For real, how did you get here? Did Einstein call you or something?”

“Not exactly. I, kinda-sorta, followed you here from our date. Then when I saw you guys needed help, I had Jeremy virtualize me.” Sam looked Odd up and down for a moment. “Why...Why are you a cat boy?”

Aelita put a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing, but failed to contain her amusement as tiny snickers slipped past. “Yeah, Odd. What is with the cat get-up?”

Odd’s cheeks flushed with color. “W-Well, it’s kind of a long story. I sorta showed up here like this the first time and since then I’ve just learned to roll with it. But what about you? You look awesome!” His eyes ran over the black jumpsuit with satisfying white lines going down the lengths of her covered arms and legs, accented by an indigo crop top overlaying the outfit.

“Jeremy told me he was using Yumi and Aelita’s outfits as a basis for mine, but most of it was generated automatically when I first got here, I guess.” Sam looked at Aelita and her gaze was instantly drawn to her point eyes and face markings. “I guess between you two, I’m kinda the odd one out. No cats ears, no elf ears, just plain ol’ human ones.”

“Hey, you guys.” Jeremy spoke to all of them through his computer’s microphone. “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation on fashion, we really should get you three back home. Ulrich and Yumi are already here, so I’ll start the devirtualization process. You first, Aelita.”

As Aelita began to disappear into unraveling strands of code, Odd put a hand on the back of his neck. “Sam, I’m sorry you had to find out this way about what I’m always doing with my friends. I wanted to tell you, and I didn’t like lying to you, but trying to explain all this to you always just seemed so...impossible.”

“Odd, if you had told me about all of this, I probably would have thought your brains had finally melted out of your ears from playing so many video games. I’m not angry or anything, more like amazed really. I almost still can’t believe anything like this even exists. I’m glad you’re safe though. Aelita and the others too, of course.” She kicks the ground with her shoe. “So, uh, does this mean I’m like part of the team now or what?”

Odd shrugged his shoulders. “If you want to be. I’m sure the others would agree that you’ve already more than proven yourself, but there’s still a lot we would need to talk about first. What Lyoko is, what we’re fighting, where Aelita really comes from...”

“I knew she wasn’t from Canada!” Sam yelled, before laughter overtook both her and Odd.

“It was the best we could come up with on such short notice. You’re telling me people from Canada don’t naturally have pink hair?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure nobody from anywhere is a natural pink, dork.” Sam flicks his nose with her index finger as the devirtualization process begins to take her. “I’ll see you back topside, alright?”

Odd nodded. “Yeah, see you back in the factory, dork-kisser.”

[parkerpeter24]

detestation

Pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

Warnings ➳ teenage drinking, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, you'll be surprised.

Prompt ➳ "I don't want to go"

This is a part of @farfromhaz's I love you 3000 writing challenge! Congratulations to you angel, you deserve it all and so much more. Secondly, I would like to say that this was inspired by a fic I read on Wattpad but it was deleted, so I rewrote it. I hope you enjoy this, love you ❤

“May!” Your mother squealed, May greeting her with an equally shrill squeal and a warm hug. You laughed and shook your head at the two elderly women in front of you. Your favourite thing about the weekly visit to the Parkers’ residence was seeing your mom laughing and enjoying herself after the excruciating, selfless weeks of her life. The main, as well as the only reason, that you joined her there most of the time.

“Hi May!” You greeted the brunette lady excitedly. She let the both of you inside, her and your mom already drowning in a conversation about some incident that happened a few days back at work, “Oh (Y/n), Peter’s in his room.” She notified you, being very oblivious to your situation.

You gave her a tight lipped smile, nodding your head, and turned to move towards the wooden door of Peter’s room, not before rolling your eyes at the mention of him.

The door opened with a promptness making Peter flinch. His head shot up from his desk to look at you, ignorant of his presence as you walked straight to his bed, plopped down and took out your phone, starting to scroll through it momentarily later, unlike the times you were at school, where you would brawl with each other any chance you got. He scoffed at you. Your head snapped up as your eyes squinted, “What’s so funny?” You threatened.

He chuckled, “You just —”

“Well, I don’t care.” You spat, interrupting him, “Look, it’s just another weekend. Let’s not fight and get it over with already.”

“Whatever” He shrugged. Your jaw clenched at his apathetic behaviour. You bit your tongue and took a deep breath to calm your nerves down. You couldn’t believe how easy it was for Peter to get under your skin.

Peter however, never knew the reason for you guys’ enmity towards each other. At first, you would always try to ignore him in school and he never understood why you were doing that. He even tried to make you like him, but you never showed interest, so he stopped trying. After that, it was constant commenting and bashing the other with words and actions. Rolling of eyes, scoffing and every expression that shows hatred and dislike was shared between you two.

It was about time you got up from the bunk bed, stretching your arms upwards. Peter was still at his study table, flipping through the pages of his book. You rolled your eyes at him, moving forward to get a look at what was so interesting that had kept him so invested for such a long time.

You rolled your eyes as soon as you got a peek of what was in front of him, “Three chapters ahead of the class?!” You scoffed. Peter’s head snapped up, not expecting you there, “No wonder how you’re able to answer all the questions in class. Smartass.” You snarked.

He suddenly smacked his fist on the table making you take a step back out of reflex, “What is your problem?” He asked, “You’re at my house, in my bedroom and you just cannot shut your mouth up!”

You made a disgusted face, “Then, maybe the problem is in you!” You pointed. He stood up from his chair, towering due to the extra inches he had over you.

If anyone else would’ve been so close up your face that you could feel their breath fan over your cheeks, you probably would’ve moved back, been nervous, or maybe even have told them to piss off. But it was Peter Parker, how could you back up. You both were as stubborn as the other.

“You are so —” He starts, running a hand through his soft, brown hair in frustration.

“So what? Huh Parker? Cat caught your tongue?” You spat. It wasn’t even new. This conversation between the two of you, it has been repeated all over the time. You saw his jaw clench and unclench before a look of unconcern settled on his face and he left the room, muttering a ‘whatever’ before slamming the door, leaving you behind.

“Whatever?” You gritted out, trailing his path and slamming the door behind you with equal frequency, if not more.

Your mom and May, who were sitting at the couch, having a pleasant conversation, looked at you and Peter in confusion.

“What happened kids?” May asked.

“Nothing.” Peter breathed out hastily before you could say anything, “I-I was invited to this party tonight.” The change of tone in his voice was evident, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes softened. Minutes ago he was with you and he was talking with venom quoting all his words. You wondered if he would ever talk to you like that.

“Why don’t you take (y/n) with you?” You heard May ask. Your eyes went wide, matching Peter’s chocolate brown ones.

“No, I don’t think my mom would want me to —” You started before getting cut off by your dear mom.

“I have no objections. You kids should socialise a little. It’s fine as long you both stick together. I still remember the time we went to Grace’s party.” Your mom laughed, followed by May and a conversation picked up.

✰✯✰

“You had to open your dumb mouth?!” You slammed the door to Peter’s car, “Nothing of this would’ve happened if you waited for us to leave.” You ran up to match his pace as he ignored you.

“Just keep your distance and call me if you want to go back home.” He said finally and left you there to meet his friend Ned with whom he ushered inside.

You sighed, contemplating on leaving him there alone, but finally decided to go inside, keeping in mind that you’d be safer in there.

A one and a half hour later, you were drunk and bored. You’ve had a few punches and now you were intoxicated, bored and lonely. You barely had any conversation because you didn’t know much about these people. So you stood in a corner by yourself, propped against a wall, drowning in your thoughts and alcohol. Recalling the last time you went to MJ’s and you both discussed how worthless boys are, you chuckled.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand slammed on the wall beside you, making you flinch and look at the cause of disruption. A boy, approximately your age, stood above you, black eyes shining due to the blue and yellow fluorescent lights.

“Excuse me.” You said, looking into his gleaming eyes, the alcohol giving you a little confidence boost.

“Hey princess.” He smirked, running a hand through his copper red locks, “What do you think, we have a little dance of our own?”

“Um, sorry but I have a boyfriend.” You said, defensively.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow at you, “I didn’t see any boyfriend of yours around here for a long time. It seems to me like he doesn’t care enough to be around for you baby.” He chuckled. You felt yourself cringe when he moved closer and tried pushing him back.

“Hey Romeo.” The voice made the boy pull away from you. You sighed out of relief, looking back to see who it was, “I’m the boyfriend.” Peter pointed towards himself, moving forwards. Placing a hand over the boy’s leather clad torso, Peter pushed him away from you and stood in front of you, placing a protective hand in the air. You felt safe, like you always did when Peter was around —and you didn’t even know why— you would be lying if you said otherwise, “Now you may piss off.” He said.

The other guy just rolled his eyes and went off to chase another girl.

Peter turned to you with an unreadable look on his face.

“T-thanks. You really didn’t have to.” You said. He stumbled forward. You could tell he was as drunk as you, if not more.

“I did anyway. So, deal with it.” He shrugged, making you chuckle. He looks cute when he’s drunk. You put your hands on his shoulder when he stumbled once again, moving closer. God, was the boy wasted.

“Why would you help me?” You asked, making him look into your eyes, “I mean, you hate me, always have.” You stated. His brown eyes, once a distant hard stare, softened, just like they did in his apartment, earlier today. You felt something, a strong feeling in your gut, telling you to move closer, so you did.

“I don’t hate you.” He admitted, “You hate me.”

“No, I don’t.” You scoffed, “You do!”

“Okay, this can go on for a while.” He chuckled, pointing between the two of you, then stood up straighter, balancing himself with your help, your breaths mixing, “D-do you want to go home?” He asked, concern lacing his words. You shook your head.

“No, I don’t want to go, anywhere”  You whispered. He moved closer, resting his forehead on yours. His breath fanned over your face, all the while you two looked into each other’s eyes. His eyes flickered to your lips for a moment then back to your eyes, hands moving all the way down to rest on the small of your back.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” Was all he said before his lips connected with yours.

✰✯✰

You woke up to very unfamiliar surroundings, a white blanket covered your body as the light poured in through the window. You squint your eyes, due to the brightness, and turned to look to your side.

Peter sat at the edge of the bed, head propped up on his hands, just in his boxers. You gulped at the possibility of what might’ve happened last night.

“Peter?” You called out softly. He turned back, focusing on you.

“Morning.” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“W-what happened l-last night?” You stuttered out.

“I guess we had sex.” He stated, afterwards blushing at his bluntness. There was a moment of silence as Peter got up from the bed, walked all the way to the door and stood against it.

“I’m sorry.” You finally said, playing with the hem of the sheets. Peter looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Why are you sorry? We both were drunk (y/n).” He said.

“Yeah but…” You started, holding the sheets firmly behind your back with the help of one hand, “We hate each other! You’re not supposed to sleep with the person you hate.”

“I don’t hate you.” He stated, “I never did. When we first met in school, you were —”

“Why are you telling me this?” Your eyebrows furrowed. He sighed.

“Because.” He searched for words, carefully looking at your expression, then deciding to say, “I like you.”

“What?” You stared at him in confusion. No way in hell could you be awake, this definitely has to be a dream, “Are you kidding? B-because this isn’t a good one.” You laughed bitterly, eyes glossing over with tears.

“I’m not. I’m not kidding at all.” He said, walking back to his initial position and sitting beside you on the bed, “I’ve liked you since, well, for a very long time, but you’re impossible to talk to.”

“What? I’m not the one who is im —”

You were cut off because Peter then pulled you in for a kiss. One hand behind your neck, the other moved to your back, holding the sheets in their place so you could reach yours in the back of his head, playing with the soft curls there.

When you parted, eyes closed and breathing heavily, you could feel his breath on your cheeks, “You’re the impossible one.” You said softly.

“Are you seriously saying that when I jus—”

It was your turn to pull him in for a kiss, happy that the brawl between the two of you was finally resolved, “I like you too.”

Permanent taglist: @rcmxnoff @aidiastyles @spideygirl2003 @tommysparker @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @allegra-soleil @rubberducky-jrr @purefluff @clara-licht @anjali750 @drunklili @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @the-crazy-fanfictionist @fanficparker @halfblood-princess-505 @chaoticpete @hollandsamor @t-monosapiens-h

Peter Parker taglist: @cherryredparker @mirukobecomingbothered @starlight-starks @parkers-thoughts

[uwua3]

hi hello yes i love your blog sm !! your writing makes me feel so soft 😔💞💞💞💞 sometimes i even reread my favorites~ (like your tenma and tsumu hcs, so cute i love💘) may i please request friends to lovers hcs of sakuya with someone that loves acting as much as him? thank you so much for giving us top tier content and don’t stop being adorable!!!!💕💕

thank you so much TT you’re sooo cute 💗💘💖💞💕💓💝 i’m so happy you have favorites of mine :O + i love saku so much 🥺🥺🥺 this request makes me super duper happy!!! thank you :D you’re so adorable, anon~ ♡

summary: acting was rebirth for you, and sakuya remained the same despite living hundreds of lives

warnings: abandonment issues, giving up on your dreams

author’s note: the trope for this is moreso past friends > lovers! i adjusted the prompt so that the reader was someone who struggled with their dream of acting and was being held back, similar to izumi/tsumugi! please enjoy this, and know it is okay to give up—it takes strength to do so.

growing up, i feared failure to the point where i gave up on every single one of my passions. now, i don’t have any strong passions, so this type of reader truly healed a part of childhood me. for those who also quit and now have nothing, you’re not late. you’re perfectly on time, this is your life and it’s your decision to find what you love. you don’t need a dream now, you aren’t less than because you don’t have passion. as long as you’re happy, why should a dream matter?

word count: 4,741

music: fallin’ flower – seventeen (the instrumental of this song is what it’d feel like for sakuya in the last scene!), together – seventeen

bloom together (rebirth).

🌸🌷 sakuma sakuya

every actor’s first rebirth is on stage

it’s when the spotlight belongs to you, where all eyes are on you but you’re someone else tonight. you can be anyone you want, the same face but a new name that gives you life

you are reborn again and again as multiple versions extended as an actor, until the clapping takes you back to the stage and you’re taking a bow as yourself

it’s reincarnation, it’s becoming a new person just for a hour for the audience but training months behind the scenes. you’re reborn

yet, you’ve always been you. ever the same, unchanging, just... you

it was closing night of romeo & julius that you wanted to become someone else, just for a moment

a buzzer sounded but the start of the highly anticipated play was a creak. the main lead stepped onto stage and the wooden floorboard creaked, and it was the start of what you thought was the best performance of his life

romeo was living his dream, you could see that even towards the back row. you hung onto every carefully practiced line that he managed to convey naturally, every subtle and grand gesture that aligned with his period–accurate costume, every shift in the actor—no, romeo’s expression upon facing other protagonists and villains alike

it was the blooming of one of the most passionate actors ever to grace the mankai stage

you become one with the standing ovation, tears running down your face as a part of you regrets your own fear. that could’ve been you on stage, performing for hundreds as you take in the applause with a smile. but, you gave up—you never tried to begin with

when romeo bowed, you wished you were beside him. if only you didn’t give up, if only you were as determined as he was

you walked home slowly, as if your own steps wanted to trace back their path to the theatre. you wanted it—the sleepless nights memorizing a well–written script and scribbling notes in the margins, the adrenaline rushing in your veins right before the curtain parted, costume fittings and seeing them come alive in the mirror because it was made for you and you alone

but, did you deserve it after all these years?

your face was stained by the remanence of crying towards the climax of romeo & julius. you were on the edge of your seat the entire time, flinching during the sword fight and mourning alongside the heavy emotions weighing down the atmostphere of the theatre

yet, you felt like that wasn’t the only reason you tried muffling your cries as you roughly wiped the onslaught of tears away, letting out a tired, pitiful mock laugh at your own state. how pathetic, you were crying just like back then

before you left him—oh, you were back at mankai theatre

you blinked at the sign above the double doors, knowing the show was long done now. the poster advertisements were still tacked and framed onto the brick wall. he was the center of it all, swinging his weapon with the precision of a trained knight. the letters of the actor’s name blurred in your vision when you read it

of course, it was him. you knew romeo very well

you don’t know why, but you pushed open the doors and discovered it wasn’t locked. the low quiet excitement that made the air feel like electricity was gone, and all that was left was nothing but the stage. the staff must’ve been gone, most likely celebrating their first closing night for many years to come

you stood at the edge of the entrance, and the stage at the end of the aisle. for some reason, it was as if you knew this theatre like the back of your hand, you reached out to flip a switch on without looking. the circular side floor lights illuminated the pathway, as if you were meant to follow it

who were you to argue with fate? you walked down the aisle, split center between once filled rows. there wasn’t a single opening in sight before, but now, it was empty. you took your time running your hand over the top edges of the seats, feeling the red lush velvet beneath your fingertips

you stopped by the stairs at the bottom of the stage, leading up to place you longed to be ever since you met him. tilting your head back, you released a shaky breath; hesitant, nervous, undeserving

could you let yourself do this, even if it was just once?

when you carefully made your way up, the stage creaked underneath your foot as you stepped on. center stage and all that stood was you, pretending the heat of the spotlight shined upon your frame and an audience was witness to your rebirth

you remembered it, your monologue you had wrote many years ago. you straightened your back, about to deliver the only performance of your life before you heard a voice that spoke just mere hours before

your eyes snapped open, turning your head down towards the direction of the voice and stopped. it was romeo—no, sakuya, at the base of the stage out of costume with his lips forming the shape of your name. he remembered? of course he did, it was so like him to do that

silence passed, as if he was speechless by your presence. sakuya stumbled back when you attempted to say his name, his immediate reaction was to run away. but then, he shook his head, standing his ground as he looked up at you with confusion and disbelief, like you weren’t really there

“why are you here?” sakuya trailed off, unable to form coherent thoughts as you sighed, moving to sit at the edge of the stage. sakuya took a few steps back, staring at you wide–eyed before rubbing his eyes and looking again

“i saw your play, romeo.” you simply said, swinging your legs back and forth with a nonchalant look at nothing in particular despite how nervous you were. it was strange, you never felt this way before around him

it had been years since you last saw sakuya, and he looked grown up now. much older, and more confident in who he was. any other time, he probably would’ve been gone by now. now, it looked like he wasn’t leaving without answers with determination in his eyes

“you’re still the best actor i know.” you admitted honestly, knowing you could never lie around sakuya no matter how hard you tried. there was something about sakuya that made you want to reveal your heart to him

“thank you, that really means a lot to me!” sakuya smiled, lighting up the whole room before he paused, as if he realized you weren’t supposed to be here

“but, when did you come back?” he asked, subconsciously inching closer as you shrugged, refusing to look him in the eye. you knew if you did, you’d come back to the stage all over again

“a while ago.” a moment of hesitation was apparent in sakuya’s halted steps, before he pushed himself up to sit next to you. he was taller now, too (you were always the taller of the two back then)

“you... you should’ve contacted me! i would’ve helped you,” sakuya cleared his throat, adjusting his hoodie collar with a blush as he looked away. “you know, with moving and settling in.”

you knew what he meant, though. you knew that he desperately wanted to ask why you stopped being friends and contacting with him in the first place. you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, even if he deserved to know why

because you’re living my dream, and i’m too sorry to step into the spotlight with you

you nodded, about to make up another excuse before his hand fell upon yours. his hands were even bigger, with callouses around the base of his fingers and small marks upon his palm. sword practice, he’d laugh about later

“you should’ve talked to me.” sakuya repeated, his head turned towards you as you stare back at him with nervousness. when did he get so close? your legs were practically touching at this point, the warmth from his hand was burning you like he was the sun. sakuya was too bright, you might go blind

“i’m...” pride caught your tongue, making you swallow the long overdue apology you knew sakuya deserved. sorry for never trying to pursue theatre, sorry for making baseless promises of being there for him, sorry for giving up on every passion you’ve ever had because you were too afraid of the possibility of failure. you had too much to be sorry for

you just shook your head and landed on your feet with a thud, about to take your leave and never intending to return again. it was a mistake to pretend like the stage was yours, even for a moment. you promised yourself you’d never talk to sakuya again, but you had a habit of breaking your promises

“wait!” sakuya followed your lead and caught you by the wrist. he was quicker now, too, with a firm, but not unkind, edge to his voice. it was clear; he wasn’t letting you go, but he still respected you as a person after all these years apart. in a way, you were proud of how far he had come even if meant you had to deal with the confrontation

silence, again. you could only hear the slightly audible pant of his breath from how nervous he was. could he feel the beat of your heart from where he was? his hold loosened, but his fingers still kept you close as you looked over your shoulder at him. you couldn’t believe it, you had to look up to fully see his smiling face

sakuya opened his mouth, about to say something before he just pulled you in close for a hug. you nearly tripped into his arms as he rested his chin on your head, giving you a hug just like before. but this time, for some reason, it felt intimate

his arms were wrapped around your waist, moving to rest his cheek on the top of your head as sakuya sighed, like he always wanted to be here again

“i missed you.” sakuya whispered, afraid to break the moment when you tensed up. slowly. you reached up to hug him back as you let your head fall onto his chest. his heartbeat matched the pace of yours, he was just as scared to be here

you gripped onto his hoodie and nodded, not willing yourself to disturb the comfortable silence. any other day, you would’ve told him you did, too, but it felt too personal now to say

sakuya pulled away first before dropping into a low bow with his hand over his heart. his eyes were closed and his voice was loud and clear in the empty auditorium

“so please! don’t leave again, i’ll work hard to give you a reason to stay!” sakuya proclaimed, his truth being presented in front of you as you watched him with wide eyes before settling on a small smile, forcing him to stand back up with a hand on his shoulder

(it wasn’t his fault you had given up on theatre, you didn’t quit because of him, but you didn’t say anything)

“you’ve always done your best, i’m proud of you.” you honestly said and sakuya’s smile lit up the whole room. you knew he was born for the stage the moment he smiled at you

before you two left, you turned to glance at the stage one more time before leaving. maybe, one day, you’d gain the strength sakuya has to be there again

(sakuya returned to the party with an awkward lie no one bothered questioning, claiming he just had to go see a friend after checking to see if the theatre was locked. “it definitely was!”)

(were you guys friends? could he call you a friend after you left? sakuya tossed and turned in bed, before huffing and staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his chest)

(sakuya always saw you as a friend no matter what, but it felt different this time)

you were sakuya’s classmate throughout his childhood. yet, you were always out of reach, in the better upperclassmen classes and had grown up, cool friends. it wasn’t until you two saw the pirate play together and the fire alarm was pulled that he became friends with you

your paths crossed that day and would continue overlapping until you disappeared like the spring sakura, like all the years together were just two weeks before never coming back. sakuya didn’t know what happened, all he saw was an empty school desk before his start at hanasaki academy

(“do you promise to be friends forever?” sakuya asked and you immediately looped your pinky around his, both young and under the falling cherry blossoms with no worries for the future. “i promise to be your friend and your co–star!”)

for the first time in a while, sakuya dreamt of that fateful spring afternoon at recess and woke up wanting to see you again

you found yourself back at the mankai theatre, but this time, with an invitation. it looked different during the daytime. the sun illuminated the old, chipped edges of the building’s sign and age had worn down the place. yet, you still loved it, standing in front of the doors with a fragment of your past dream

you could see it now. standing upon the stage with your name in lights outside for veludo way to see. the costume perfectly fitting your measurements and becoming one with your intent, the rapt attention of the audience upon you as you become another person and deliver your lines with raw emotion, the instant shock to plot twists and the genuine reactions to crucial turning points. you wanted it—

you heard your name again. you turned to see sakuya was sprinting down the sidewalk, slowing down to a reasonable pace as he tried to maintain his breathing in front of you. he skidded to a stop, in his usual pink flannel and spring hoodie, with his bright grin directed at you

but this time, with two drinks in hand?

“i’m so sorry i’m late! i got caught up choosing between some vending machine options, but here you go!” sakuya cheerfully passed you a carton as he let out a hesitant laugh, carefully observing your blank reaction to the sudden gift

“um... do you not like it? i just thought, it was still your favorite...” sakuya coughed, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing at the sheen of sweat already. you didn’t respond for a moment, before glancing at his drink of choice

“you still like that? you really haven’t changed.” you offhandedly commented, ruffling his hair in the process and smiling back. sakuya took in the way you praised him and smiled even bigger. he pressed the bottle to his forehead as a way to cool down absentmindedly as you stuck your straw in the carton

“i’m surprised you didn’t forget, it’s been a while since i had one of these.” you mentioned as sakuya spluttered in disbelief, like that was the biggest joke you ever told

“of course i didn’t! you were my—” sakuya started but abruptly cut himself off, instead uncapping his vending machine drink and taking a swig. you didn’t press the matter further, just tilted your head for a moment before nodding slowly

“you know, i would’ve waited, sakuya. you didn’t have to run.” you reprimanded, your natural older sibling instinct to take care of him coming through. you waited for him to continue but he said nothing

you looked towards him and sakuya was staring at the ground beneath his shoes. he fidgeted with his bottle, a habit he had when he was unsure, before he very quietly said something. you would’ve missed it if you weren’t listening, his words were carried by the spring wind

“i... i was afraid if i was late, you’d leave me again.”

silence. you suddenly understood why sakuya put all his time and effort just to get your favorite childhood drink at the rundown vending machine across town. why he forced himself to run past his limits just to barely make it on time with the same smile as always

sakuya was scared you’d abandon him once again, just like everyone else he loved

you took a moment to take a deep breath in, before stepping towards him and stopping a foot away. when sakuya looked for you nervously, he met your kind eyes and gentle smile as you held your pinky out

“i promised i’d see you again today, right?”

(you promised you wouldn’t leave either, sakuya bitterly thought before shaking his head. there was no reason to think like that anymore)

sakuya nodded as if to convince himself before shaking your pinky again, just like the good old days

you both knew there were conversations that still needed to be discussed but for now, as sakuya unlocked the door and led you towards the stage, they were better left unsaid

from then on, you and sakuya’s friendship bloomed again on the mankai stage

you became a part of sakuya’s life again, like before you left your hometown and moved to a neighborhood far away

you didn’t dream of the stage lights and sold out shows you fantasized about with sakuya in veludo way, you stopped reciting lines to your mirror with a creased script clutched tightly in your hand, you refused to even let yourself think about costume design sketches and unfinished docs left open on your computer

but now, here you were, doing all the things you promised yourself you wouldn’t do again. you became somewhat apart of stage crew, learning how to handle the lights and how to adjust them to the moving actors after pretending not to be interested. you helped sakuya with his lines during every practice by being his counterpart and working together to form the foundation of his best performance every time. you picked fabrics that fit the costumes the best and helped the fashion gang set up. you even helped mankai’s local playwright brainstorm at ungodly hours

you had grown up with a love for theatre ever since the pirate play fire alarm fiasco with sakuya and ever since then, you desperately wished to be on stage. yet, fear held you back. you couldn’t be in front of everyone without shaking and running off. you flubbed your rehearsals no matter how hard you tried and you couldn’t deal with the competition

it was like every inherent part of your own self was holding you back from your true dream to be on stage

so back in middle school, when you realized sakuya truly was serious about devoting the rest of his life to his one true passion with no consideration of the high probability of failure, you knew you had to leave before you told him you couldn’t do it anymore

you left him and sakuya lost his best friend

but, he wasn’t angry with you. sakuya didn’t react in hasty frustration and blame you, it encouraged him to work even harder to be the best actor he could be. he wanted to take over every stage, be every role, just so he could perform for you one day and win you back

he wanted to prove to you that the dream you both shared was still worth living

you became involved with the backstage behind the scenes operations of the theatre industry alongside the director, your passion for acting coming back after endless encouragement and support from sakuya

(when you first met spring troupe, they had heard about you and were wary of how you left sakuya. he had never said anything bad about you, but they all knew enough to piece together what happened)

(it wasn’t until sakuya was doing a short improv scene. he stuttered and smiled fondly when he made eye contact with you, not caring about his obvious mistake, just wanting to see if you were happy. that’s when they realized how much he liked you and accepted you back into his life)

years of suppressed dreams came back as you attended hanasaki with sakuya, spending every waking moment discussing theatre and helping each other with homework. you balanced acting with school alongside your best friend again, but there was still a part of you that was unsatisfied

would you truly never let yourself be on stage with your best friend ever again?

although everything was better than back to normal, it was still different. sakuya was older, taller than you now, and wasn’t the little brother you protected. now, it was like he was your knight in shining armor, doing everything to make sure you were safe like a true hero

you ignored the butterflies in your stomach and the heat of the blush on your face, blaming it on the spring season and the flower pollen. it couldn’t be—of course, optimistic and cheerful sakuya grew up to be the same, just physically more mature than his kid self

maybe that’s what was distracting you backstage, when you became lost in his performance and missed your cues for props. he wasn’t a kid in your eyes anymore, and you knew that

returning to sakuya’s life meant becoming apart of theatre, your love for acting even stronger. but also, your love for sakuya growing day by day

it was a normal day, where you two were walking home from a long day of school. sakuya was rambling about something like a leader’s meeting at 9, but you couldn’t focus. you were very aware of how your fingers kept brushing his

(you wanted to reach out yourself and hold his hand, but what if you were always his older sibling in his head?)

suddenly, you nearly bumped into sakuya when he stood in front of you, leaning down so he was eye–level with you. his concerned eyes were observing your red face, resting his hand against your forehead with a frown

“are you sick? you’ve been overworking yourself at mankai, lately. i hope you’re okay! let’s go—” sakuya comforted, about to pull away before you gripped the collar of his uniform, not letting him go any further

“i like you.”

murmurs spread across veludo way. a small crowd gathered as they caught sight of the pair, whispering about how it must’ve been a street act

you suddenly knew what you had to. you were you, you were in love with your best friend, this was it

“i like you so much, that i want to see you acting on stage everytime. i don’t care if i’m backstage every show, i want to watch you bloom.” you confessed, holding on tighter to his dress shirt as he revealed a hint of surprise in his face. like a professional actor, sakuya shifted to an effortlessly impressive smile as he lowered his palm to yours, running his thumb over your hand

“i like you, too.” sakuya replied cooly, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead as you froze. was he serious? did he truly like you back as well? this couldn’t be real—

the crowd applauded at the short but heartfelt performance as sakuya moved to stand up straight, bowing slightly with a thanks towards the audience. you were motionless, fingers ghosting over your forehead with a blank stare

it was all, an act?

sakuya turned towards you, his usual grin back as he ruffled your hair this time. he looked shocked, but not thrown off when he laughed at your surprised expression

“i knew you were such a good actor after all this time! i almost believed it!” sakuya said, walking ahead of you as he continued openly praising you

when he looked over his shoulder, he smiled and you noticed the way the cherry blossoms fluttered around him. he was so radiant that the sun beamed at his presence

sakuya thought your confession was a street act, of course he wouldn’t see you as anything else except his best friend

when sakuya came back to the dorms with a brief description of why he was late for practice, the whole company wasn’t shocked, but disappointed

(“they actually like you! why would they do a street act if they’re not an actor?!”)

(sakuya stopped and widened his eyes. he slapped his hands over his mouth before running to his bedroom in embarrassment. did you actually like him?!)

(sakuya came out half a hour later with new determination in his eyes as he declared he had a plan and needed everyone’s help)

next day, you came into the theatre to set up for dress rehearsal before you realized it was oddly quiet backstage. the hoards of people in the back were gone and it was like the whole place was abandoned. you checked the time, you were early, maybe that’s why

when you peeked behind the curtain, no one was on stage either. you walked out without a second thought, looking to see if there was a notice of some kind

then, you felt it. the heat of the spotlight upon your frame. it belonged to you, you felt a set of eyes upon you as a creak of a floorboard alerted you to the other wing of the stage

sakuya—no, romeo, was standing there with his sword put in his hilt with a swift movement. it had been nearly a year or so since his closing night as romeo, the costume was tighter the more he grew. but, he was just as youthful and valiant as ever as he stepped towards you

before you could ask him what was going on, romeo dropped into a bow with his arm across his chest. in his other hand, was a rose

“i, romeo montague, have fallen in love with you!” romeo declared boldly, even if his hand was slightly shaking around the flower. you stood silent, watching him before romeo stood back up, placing his hand over his heart with the most sincerity you’ve ever seen from him

“when you left, you left as a friend but you return as the love of my life.” sakuya recited, clearly rewriting the lines the night before as he became flustered over his own sentiment. you could hear a set of strings being played in the background as the lighting focused on you two, everything else unimportant to the scene

“i want to be on stage with you! i want to bloom with you, i want to be with you forever as long as you’ll have me.” romeo confessed, the truth spilling from his heart as he got down on one knee. his hand was over his rapidly beating heart, and one hand outstretched still with the rose

“i like you, i love you. please, accept this rose if you feel the same.” sakuya let his guard down, becoming less of romeo but more of him as he looked at you with a bright smile. that was your best friend of many years, just older now

had you always liked him? was this love?

then, you realized: you loved sakuya the way you loved theatre. your love for him may have been pushed aside when you left, but eventually, it came back because it was meant to be. your dream wasn’t just to act with him, it was to love him until your last breath. you love sakuya the way he loves acting

you took the rose, the tears brimming at your eyes from the confession, and smiled. you were your favorite character: yourself, because sakuya liked you

“i like you, too.”

like the first night you met him again on the same stage, sakuya pulled you into a hug as he embraced you. his cheek upon your head and arms around your waist, he leaned back and almost came in for the closing kiss...

before a bunch of overexcited, teasing troupe members busted in from backstage and surrounded the new, happy couple with congratulations and more hugs!

on that stage, you found a new dream: to love sakuya behind the stage, where you were happy

you were reborn, happier and chasing your dreams with the love of your life

[lycorogue]

Latest Story: The Truest of Friends

Happy Belated Plagg Appreciation Day!

I’m not sure why it was such a strain for me to get this written this go, but I managed! This story is largely inspired by two things: 1. This picture prompt that @chibisunnie​ sent me. 2. The song “Thank You for Being a Friend” by Andrew Gold on repeat for about 3hrs straight. @_@

You can stay here to read my latest story, or you can find it on these other sites: on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

The Truest of Friends

Summary: It's the second day of the new school year, which also means it's been a year since Stoneheart first attacked Paris. Adrien wonders how he could best celebrate the anniversary of becoming Chat Noir, and how to properly showcase how much he cares for someone very special in his life.

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 3307

Status: Completed one-shot

“Kitty? Chat Noir, you with me?”

“Hmm?” Chat Noir blinked a couple of times to catch his bearings before looking over at Ladybug.

She was still lounged across the rooftop, basking in the setting sun. However, while the rest of her body seemed relaxed, her face was tight in concern: her eyebrows stitched together and her mouth a thin line. Tilting her head to the side slightly, she reached out for him. “You okay? You kind of drifted off there.”

“Oh, yeah, no. Sorry. I was- I'm just a bit distracted. What did you want?”

Her expression softened. Sitting up, she shifted so she could playfully bump Chat Noir in the shoulder with her own. “We can head out if you have something you need to do. I was just commenting on how much I'm going to miss these summer sunsets.”

“Yeah.” Chat Noir's voice was soft; distant. “Me too.”

“You sure you're okay? You don't quite seem yourself tonight.”

He gave her a sweet little smile and gently shoulder bumped her back. “Nah. Don't worry about it. I was just thinking that with the end of summer it's also the end of something else.”

“It is? What?”

“Our first year as superheroes.” He playfully winked at her, but quickly shifted his gaze to the cityscape stretched out before them. “At least, our first year as partners, right? Tomorrow is the anniversary of Hawk Moth akumatizing his first victim; which is also the first time we met.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. I've gotten so caught up in everything, I- how did I forget that?”

“It's fine. It's probably not something most people want to immortalize, especially the poor kid who got akumatized.”

“I dunno. It's also when he started dating that girl, remember?” Ladybug winked at Chat Noir, making his smile deepen. “I mean, technically that's the day after tomorrow,” Ladybug clarified, her face tightening again as she mini-rambled, “but they got together because of the whole Stoneheart thing and Ivan finally letting Mylène know how he truly felt about her-”

“Thanks to you, if I recall correctly.” Ladybug relaxed, and the two shared a light chuckle. Then Chat Noir glanced down at his ring. “You already know I was new when we met. I don't know if I should also tell you this, but that was actually my first day as a superhero.”

“Mine too.” Ladybug placed a hand on Chat Noir's shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Chat Noir stole a quick glance over at Ladybug before again studying his ring. “Is it wrong that part of me is slightly thankful for Hawk Moth? I mean, I know he's terrorizing the city and exploiting people's lowest moments, and he absolutely needs to be stopped. I'm not excusing anything he's doing, but-” He shifted slightly away from Ladybug so he could get a better angle of looking her in the eye. “If it weren't for him attacking Paris, I never would have received the Cat Ring. I wouldn't have the freedom to be Chat Noir. I wouldn't be able to help people the way I can as a superhero. I don't know if I'd ever meet you, M'lady. And-” He played with his ring, looking back down at it. “-and I wouldn't have ever met my kwami.”

Ladybug briefly bit her lip, her own eyes downcast before scooping Chat Noir's left hand in both of hers. “It's okay. I understand. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “I'm- I'm nothing like, well, like this when I'm out of costume. Being Ladybug is a lot to burden, if I'm honest, but it also gives me confidence I didn't know I had. I also can't really imagine life without my kwami now that I know how amazing her companionship is.” Ladybug then cupped Chat Noir's left jaw. “Hawk Moth also allowed me to meet one of my best friends.”

"One of?” Chat Noir teased. Ladybug lightly elbowed him in the ribs, and they shared another chuckle. “I know what you mean about your kwami, though. I don't know if I could bare ever being without him again. He's more than my kwami or even a friend to me. He's- well, he's-”

“Family,” Ladybug finished.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, mine too.” She sidled beside him, and rested her head on his shoulder. Her left hand reached up to her earrings, brushing them lovingly.

Chat Noir leaned his head against hers, and played with his ring a little more. “It feels like I've known him for more than just a year. Is that crazy?”

“No.”

“No offense, M'lady, you're amazing, but Plagg- he's the only one who truly knows me. All of me, ya know?”

“Yup. Same with Tikki.”

“I love him. I don't know what I'd do without him. Even if I was never Chat Noir again, I'd still need him. Do you think he knows that?”

“Considering how much you tell me how much you love me?” she teased, “I find it hard to believe anyone you know doesn't know exactly how you feel.”

Chat Noir stiffened with a sharp inhale.

“Kitty?”

“Sorry. I have to go. I have something I need to do after all.” Before Ladybug could protest, Chat Noir scooped up her hand and placed a quick peck on the back of it. “Thank you for listening, L.B.” He rolled away from her, and onto his feet. “Can we meet up again tomorrow? For our... anniversary?” He gave her an exaggerated and suave wink.

She giggled even while giving him a dismissive shake of the head. “Sure, but it's a purely professional anniversary. I'm still in love with someone else, in case you forgot.”

“How could I?” he teased, a smile still on his lips. “Same place, same time?”

“I'll be here.”

Chat Noir presented her with an elaborate bow before leaping off into the city. He raced across the rooftops, hooting gleefully into the night air.

Landing in his bedroom a few minutes later, Chat Noir released his transformation; once more becoming Adrien.

“Boy, weren't you getting sappy up there on that rooftop.” Plagg hovered where the Miraculous spat him back out. His demeanor was as dismissively aloof as always, but his eyes were softer than usual.

“Yeah, sorry about that, Plagg.” Adrien tossed his kwami a slice of Camembert before jogging over to his desk.

“What are you doing?” Plagg gobbled down the cheese before floating over to Adrien and glancing over the teen's shoulder.

“Making plans for tomorrow,” Adrien replied excitedly. He started grabbing papers and a pencil, then hurriedly typed away on his phone.

“Blech.” Plagg made a face, zipped into the cheese cabinet beside the desk, and floated back out with the rest of the Camembert wheel held over his head. With a kick of his little flipper-foot, Plagg closed the cabinet door behind him. “You're going to get all sappy again. Aren't you?”

“Yup.” Adrien didn't hesitate a second as he replied and began scribbling notes onto a sheet of paper.

“No thank you. I'm going to take a catnap.” Plagg brought the cheese over to Adrien's bed, and started nibbling on it as he snuggled onto one of the pillows.

Adrien didn't mind. He welcomed the space as he discreetly scrolled through a cheese selection on his phone, and writing some ideas down on a piece of paper.

That night he hid the list inside his treasured unsigned valentine. In the morning, while Plagg continued to lay about, Adrien rushed the list to his bodyguard.

“I was wondering if you could get this for me for lunch? And let Nathalie know to not bother prepping anything for me. I want to do that myself, if I could.”

The Gorilla looked over the simple list, and grunted acknowledgment of the request. The easy part done, Adrien hurried back to his room to finish getting ready for school.

The morning crawled by. It was only the second day of classes, so the lessons were mostly renewal to help the students recall what they were taught the previous year. It granted Adrien plenty of time to plot out the next bits of his plan, and scribble down the words he wanted to make sure he said, hoping he didn't get too emotional.

Finally, the bell rang for lunch, and he had to keep himself from sprinting to his father's town car. The Gorilla handed Adrien a large grocery bag, then started for home.

“What's that?” Plagg loudly whispered; inching closer to inspect the bag, threatening to just phase through it.

“It's for my anniversary surprise.” Adrien replied with a sweetness and excitement that made Plagg mime a foul taste in his mouth before scurrying back to Adrien's shirt.

“Nevermind,” Plagg murmured, “I don't need to know what crazy scheme you're coming up with this time. Just let me know when it's about to blow up in your face, Romeo.”

Plagg's poor attitude wasn't about to soak into Adrien. He welcomed the peace. Once home, Adrien bee-lined to his bedroom. He tossed his bag onto his desk chair, scooped up a wheel of Camembert he kept in his room, and scurried back to the kitchen; Plagg begrudgingly in tow.

Leaving the Camembert open on the far counter, his phone next to Plagg to keep the kwami entertained, Adrien untucked another note he scribbled down the night before. Checking that Plagg wasn't watching him, Adrien unpacked his bodyguard's shopping.

A container of sprinkles. A bottle of honey. A bag of dried cranberries. A pomegranate. Adrien then riffled through the pantry for a bag of sugar, a bag of flour, and ground Cayenne pepper. He lined his work station with all of the sweets, then checked in with Plagg to make sure his kwami was properly distracted.

Carefully, he finished unpacking the rest of the shopping: another wheel of Camembert, a block of cream cheese, and a small packet of rice flour. Another glance at Plagg to make sure he didn't smell the Camembert and try to steal it, and then Adrien grabbed milk, an egg, and a stick of butter from the refrigerator.

Like a parent leaving his young toddler mildly unattended for the first time, Adrien glanced over at Plagg every couple of minutes, making sure he hadn't moved. Once or twice the magical being did look over to see what Adrien was doing, but upon seeing the wall of sweet ingredients, he turned back to the phone and left Adrien alone. 

The most trying bits were plucking the pomegranate arils out, and thickening his treat over a fire without drawing more of Plagg's attention. By the time he was done with his surprise, Adrien only had the time to quickly grab an apple and a handful of almonds for lunch before heading back to school; his treat hidden inside the refrigerator.

Another agonizingly slow second half of the school day ticked by, but it again gave Adrien time to prep his speech for later. Ladybug had told him that she couldn't imagine anyone not knowing exactly how he felt, and he was determined to make sure that was true. He needed to rush when he got home, though, to make sure everything was perfect before he had to head out to meet up with Ladybug. It was a small window, but luckily it was one of the few days he didn't have an after school activity, and the homework was still fairly light.

The final bell was a sweet sound, and he nearly bolted out of the classroom. Adrien only managed to contain himself long enough to say goodbye to Nino and wave to the girls; keeping himself as perceptively calm as possible to not rouse suspicion.

“Finally!” Adrien sighed as he got back to his bedroom. He jogged up his spiral steps to the mezzanine where he kept his DVDs, books, and video games. Scooping up the one he knew to be Plagg's favorite, he rushed back to his TV and popped the game in. “Here ya go, buddy.” He placed the controller on the sofa and gestured for Plagg to take his spot beside it. “I just need to finish up that surprise. Mind entertaining yourself a bit more?”

“Pfft. Fine! I get it. I guess I don't need any love today,” Plagg grumbled, but he still accepted the offered controller and started up his game.

Adrien slowly backed away, making sure to finish whatever prep-work he could manage in his room so that Plagg saw that he was nearby. Once he was confident his kwami was too distracted to notice him sneaking out, Adrien raced to the kitchen. Pulling his surprise out of the refrigerator, he placed it on a dish, and pulled out the final item he had asked his bodyguard to get: a box of club crackers.

 ~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~

“Plagg?” Adrien creaked his door open, slid inside, and carefully closed it behind him. A little metal food dome rested on top of a plate in his left hand. Adrien's eyes darted between the domed plate and the video game still playing on the TV. Raising his voice slightly, Adrien called out for his kwami again.

“Ha! Take that!” Plagg finished up his battle in the game, then paused it. “Adrien? Is it time to meet up with Ladybug already? I was hoping to get some dinner in.” He pouted as he floated over to his holder.

Adrien shook his head, and struggled against the smile fighting to spread across his face. “I have something else I needed to make sure to do before meeting up with L.B. tonight.” He held the plate out for Plagg. “I hope this works for dinner. Go ahead, lift the dome.”

Plagg quirked an eyebrow, but complied. The metal dome then crashed to the floor.

Sitting on the plate was a kind of sloppily, but lovingly, made cheese ball. It was a little lumpy across the top, and it looked a bit softer than it probably should. The sides were decorated with panels of club crackers, and pomegranate arils were sprinkled across the top, along with crushed walnuts, and a honey drizzle. More crackers, some grapes Adrien had found sitting out in the fruit bowl, and a couple of slices of brie lined the plate like a moat around the cheese ball.

“I know it's a bit sweeter than what you normally like, but-”

Plagg's eyes watered up. “It's beautiful, Adrien. The most magnificent thing I've ever seen!”

Adrien blushed slightly, then placed the plate down on the coffee table in front of his sofa. He peeled one of the club crackers off the side of the cheese ball, and used it to cut into his masterpiece. The inside of the ball was stained red from the chopped up dried cranberries hidden throughout the cheese mixture. He offered the coated cracker to Plagg.

“Happy anniversary, Plagg. A year ago today I opened that jewelry box and found you and my Miraculous, and, well, I wanted to make sure I celebrated with you before I celebrated with Ladybug. Especially since I only met her because of you.”

Plagg greedily devoured the cheese covered cracker, then went for another bite.

“When did you do this?”

“Over lunch. I tried to throw you off with the sprinkles and sugar and stuff.” Adrien peeled another cracker off the cheese ball and tried some of his concoction. It didn't look pretty, but it did taste fairly good. The recipe he found online was thankfully simple enough for him to follow. He'd have to remember to leave a kind review on it later.

“You did this for me? Today?”

“Of course. I- wait, hold on a second.” Adrien dug his notes from earlier out of his pocket. Unfolding his speech, Adrien cleared his throat.

“Plagg, I should make more of a point of making sure you know this, but especially today, I wanted to prove to you how much you mean to me. You aren't just my kwami. You're not even just my friend. You're my family, and there are days where you feel like the only one I have.”

Plagg hovered over his cheese ball present, a cracker dangling from his little flipper-hands as he gaped at Adrien.

“I can truly be myself around you, Plagg. I can follow the rules. I can be a little rebellious. I can be mellow and reserved. I can be free-spirited and playfully over-the-top. I can be stupidly lovesick, and I can be confused as to what love even is. I can be on the top of the world, loving life. I can even be freely sad. I know you accept me and love me for who I am, and you do so much to try to make sure I feel that love.”

“Hey now,” Plagg sniffled, swallowing the cheese-dipped cracker whole before wiping tears away. “Don't go all cheesy on me! I- I just- I was-”

“Being a great friend,” Adrien replied. “You try all the time to cheer me up and make sure I know I have someone in my corner. You may tease me, but it's all good-natured, and to my benefit, actually. You even root for me and Ladybug to get together, even after complaining about how much I talk about her. You try to be your best self around me, and you encourage me to do the same. When it looks like my heart will be broken, you also help me figure out my next move, or how I might be able to move on.”

Adrien tucked his speech away, and scooped Plagg up in the palms of his hands. “You always have my back, and are there for me even when I fear that Ladybug isn't. You cheer me up when I miss my mom, or I'm sad about my father. You help me remember to have fun. I can talk to you about anything, and- and even if I could never be Chat Noir again – if I could never feel that level of freedom again – I would still want you by my side. I need you, Plagg, as my brother. As my truest friend. I would never want to give our friendship up.” 

Adrien pulled Plagg close to his chest, cradling the small being near his heart. “I love you, Plagg. You mean so much to me, and I hope you know that.”

Plagg again sniffled back some tears as he wrapped Adrien in as tight of a hug as his tiny body would allow.

“You truly are the best Chat Noir I've ever had, Adrien. I love you too. Thank you, for everything.”

“Same.”

They hugged for another couple of seconds before Plagg pushed back against Adrien's chest, batting him away. “Okay, okay, okay. This is getting way too sappy! Let me go!”

Laughing, Adrien complied.

“Alright, we can't let this cheese go to waste now, can we? Let's go, otherwise I'm just eating it all myself.” Plagg scraped more cheese off with a cracker, then popped it in his mouth, shortly followed by a grape.

“Yeah. Okay.” Adrien tossed a grape into his own mouth. “Happy anniversary, buddy.”

“Yeah. You too.” Plagg did the closest thing to a blush that Adrien ever saw. Then the two quietly munched away at more of the cheese ball Adrien made, enjoying the time they had together before Chat Noir was due to meet up with Ladybug.

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

Did you enjoy this? Check out my other Plagg Appreciation Day stories.

Breaking Monotony   Summary: Plagg’s days are all starting to feel exactly the same. As he goes through yet another school day with Adrien, he wonders if he can do something to start shaking up the status quo. At the same time, though, he reflects on how great it is that his life is fairly predictable.

Forever in Darkness   Summary:  Plagg has always been in darkness. It had become all he knew. Then he got a ray of sunshine, and it helped save him. There was a reason he believes Adrien is the best Chat Noir ever.

Alternatively, I JUST started up a series (I still don’t quite understand the collections set-up) on AO3 that will also house all of my Plagg Appreciation Day stories.

The next Friday 13th is in November. Who wants to join me in showing Plagg some love? Did you post any Plagg appreciation today? Please send me a tag! I’d love to see what you did. :D

@discoveringmiraculouswriters​

[vernonfielding]

Carnival: Trial by Fire

This story was written for @vic-kovac for the @b99fandomevents Fall 2019 Fic Exchange. Vic-kovac, I was SO EXCITED to get you as my prompter because I love your writing so much and your prompts were all fantastic (in fact, there may be a second story coming along...). I hope you like this!

Thank you to my always amazing beta, @fezzle. I don’t want to think about what I’d do without you, Z.

The prompt I chose: The Santiagos have an annual family tradition and Amy takes Jake along (fluff, early established relationship). To the story! (Or read on A03!)

Part 1: Amy

Jake had splurged on express delivery but the new mattress still wasn’t scheduled to arrive until the weekend, so they were at Amy’s apartment, in Amy’s bed, under Amy’s floral comforter when she dropped the bomb.

“I talked to my mom today,” Amy said, casual-like, her nose in a crossword puzzle. Maybe too casual-like.

“Hm,” Jake said. He was playing a game on his phone. Amy peeped over his shoulder at the screen. It looked like it involved harvesting pumpkins, which was season-appropriate, at least.

“I told her about us.”

Jake gave her a side glance, then set his phone in his lap. “You did?”

“I did.”

Jake waited while Amy pretended to return to her puzzle, tapping the cap of her pen against her lower lip. Finally he chuckled and tore the paper out of her hands.

“Jake-”

“What did she say? Are we in the clear or is this going to be a Romeo and Juliet situation?”

“For the last time, we’re never going to be a Romeo and Juliet situation.” Amy said, scowling at him. “Do you still not remember how that play ends?”

“No, and stop trying to avoid the question.”

“Jake, it’s a double suici-” But she noted the stormy look on Jake’s face and caved. “She’s happy for me – for us. She’s only disappointed that she can’t be here for Thanksgiving so my dad’s going to get to meet you before she does.”

Jake chuckled. “Is everything in your family a competition?”

“Yes.”

Jake gave her a slow nod at that, the look on his face part bemused, part concerned – Amy figured she was going to see a lot more of that when it came to her family – but then he smiled. And it was a smile that made his whole face go soft, his eyes wide and warm, and she couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss his mouth.

“Thank you,” Jake said, gentle and sincere, when she’d pulled away.

“You’re welcome,” Amy said.

They both sat back against the headboard again, phone and puzzle in hands. Amy bit her lip and glanced at his profile. He looked so relaxed, so content, that she almost felt bad. 

“Mom also said this means you have to come to the annual carnival.”

Jake hummed his acknowledgment again, then his brows knit in bemusement and he said,  “What now?”

“It’s a Santiago tradition,” Amy said. “You’re going to love it.”

In truth, she thought he might hate it. There was a slim but real chance their relationship might not survive it.

“A carnival,” Jake said. He nodded to himself and then grinned at her. “Sounds fun, babe.”

She did not correct him.

 Part 2: Nick

The carnival was really more of a neighborhood block party, started by Victor Santiago back when he was a sergeant in the 103rd precinct. The Santiago children had been enlisted as volunteers since the very first carnival, when it was just a barbecue and some folding chairs and kids kicking rotten Halloween pumpkins in the street. Over the years it had become a neighborhood institution, with hundreds of people turning out over the afternoon and into the evening – it was a way for families old and new to reconnect, for residents to take pride in their community, and for the local cops to show their soft underbellies and let kids throw pies in their faces.

Victor and Camila had moved away years ago, but the Santiago siblings by unspoken agreement had kept up their participation. Though the Santiagos no longer organized the event and none of them lived in the neighborhood anymore, they always attended, along with a growing cadre of Amy’s nieces and nephews and associated girlfriends and boyfriends and in-laws. Not one sibling had missed a single carnival – not Amy when she’d been sick with pneumonia, or Ivan when his wife had given birth two days before, or David, who had turned down a commendation from the mayor so he could attend the 2012 fair. (He got the medal anyway, in a private ceremony at the mayor’s own home. Bruce Willis had been there. It was a long story. Amy planned to never tell Jake.)

Some might say it had become a competition among Amy and her brothers to see who would attend the most carnivals. Amy just called it a nice family tradition.

As she walked hand in hand with Jake up the subway stairs, she could hear the screeches of small children and the familiar strains of Cuban salsa coming from above. The exit deposited them half a block from the carnival, which was just getting started, volunteers hustling around with arms full of raffle tickets and platters of meat to be barbecued even as the first families with young children began meandering among the booths. Autumn-colored streamers were strung between tents and someone had dusted the ground with straw to add to the seasonal effect. Amy could already smell the odd but intoxicating aroma of roasting meat and pumpkin spice.

She insisted on paying the $5 entry for each of them, then paused to take a deep breath and smile at the familiarity of it all. She turned to Jake to ask what he thought, and his eyes were warm and bright as he took it in. She took his left arm in both her hands and snuggled in close to him, suddenly so happy to have him here in this place like home.

And then he was tugged right out of her hands and she looked up to find Nick with an arm slung around Jake’s shoulders – or more like his neck – in a fairly aggressive way.

“Nick!”

“Sorry, sis, this is Jake, right? I need to borrow him for a minute. Jake, I’m Nick, Amy’s favorite little brother.”

“Uh-” Jake said.

As he was dragged away, Jake looked back over his shoulder at Amy, all the warmth from just a moment before replaced by wide-eyed fear. Amy waved at him and called after Nick, “You’d better not break him! Nick!”

An hour later, after helping one of the neighborhood abuelitas sell raffle tickets, Amy excused herself and went hunting for her boyfriend. She found him in a booth amid the snack tents. He was grinning madly as he handed an enormous pile of cotton candy, wound precariously atop a cardboard stick, to a girl who couldn’t have been older than 5, and whose mother looked horrified. The spun sugar was bright pink and larger than the child’s head.

Jake saw Amy and his eyes went wide and he frantically looked all around the tent, then mouthed “help me.” He had wisps of pink and blue sugar in his hair and the wild-eyed look of a man who’d been eating samples of pure sugar for an hour. Amy grabbed his sticky hand and hissed, “come with me,” and snuck him out the back, right under Nick’s nose.

 Part 3: Omar

She took him to one of the family restrooms to wash up, though there wasn’t much they could do for his hair – the sugar seemed to have embedded itself in his curls. Amy had only the faintest memories of eating cotton candy as a child, of the way it melted on her tongue like something ephemeral and unnatural, not entirely of this world. She was afraid that some kind of chemical reaction had taken place on Jake’s head.

“I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what Nick was thinking putting you on cotton candy duty right out of the gate,” Amy said, as they left the bathroom, Jake still scrubbing his hair with a paper towel.

He shrugged and smiled at her easily enough. “I love cotton, and I love candy, I just had no idea that when you put them together things got so…sticky.”

“You know that cotton candy isn’t cotton.”

“You’re so cute when you’re wrong,” Jake said, and kissed her on the forehead. “Anyway, Nick was nice.”

“Nice? Nick?”

“Sure,” Jake said, shooting her a bemused look. “Is he not nice?”

“He’s not not-nice,” Amy said, which seemed to confuse Jake even more. “He’s just-”

But then Omar sprung up between them, as if out of thin air, and slid his arms around both of their shoulders.

“Amy! I can’t believe you haven’t introduced me yet!”

Amy rolled her eyes and said to Jake, “Jake, this is my brother Omar. Omar, Jake.”

“Much better. Now off you go, Amy. Mrs. Hernandes was asking for you over at the cake walk,” Omar said, and began to push Amy away, definitely with more force than a cake walk required.

She reached for Jake’s hand, but Omar batted her away. “I’ve got your boy,” he said. “Jake, you look like a man who knows a thing or two about ring tossing…” And they faded into the crowd.

When Mrs. Hernandes released her from the cake walk – “Uptown Funk” was going to be playing in her head for the rest of her life – Amy wandered back over to the game booths, and found Jake easily enough. The ring toss was surrounded by kids five or six deep, and when she squirmed her way to the front she couldn’t even manage surprise at what she saw. Jake and Omar stood side by side, fire in their eyes and plastic rings in hand as a bedraggled looking volunteer straightened the lines of two-liter bottles they would be aiming for.

“Best of ten tosses,” Omar said.

Jake narrowed his eyes and smirked, and Amy instantly recognized his game face. “I win, I get to date your sister.”

“Hey!” Amy said.

“Oh hey, babe,” Jake said cheerfully, grinning at her before returning his stony stare to Omar.

Omar glowered and said, “I win, you still get to date my sister and you have to play Santa Claus at my kids’ Christmas pageant.”

They shook on it, and Amy honestly was so embarrassed for both of them that she couldn’t bear to watch.

“The trophy is going to see if they need any help with the puppet show,” Amy said, and squeezed her way back through the crowd. She rolled her eyes as the kids erupted into cheers when someone scored a point.

 Part 4: Ivan

Amy ate lunch with a few of her old neighbors, laughing over plates of carnitas as she got caught up on all the gossip on the kids she’d grown up with. After, she figured it was about time to hunt down Jake again and make sure he hadn’t been handcuffed to a lamppost by one of her brothers as a prank. She shivered at the recollection of the Carnival ‘03 Incident.

She’d gone two circuits of the carnival, and was starting to get concerned that he’d been smuggled off-site, before she found him – and did an immediate double-take. He was in the face-painting booth, eyes narrowed as he carefully traced the delicate, unmistakable lines of a butterfly wing on the cheek of a little boy. Jake was intensely focused, his tongue stuck in one corner of his mouth, hand holding the child’s head in place while he worked. It was sweet to see him so attentive, but that wasn’t what had caught Amy’s eye.

It was the pink unicorn painted on one of Jake’s cheeks, with a rainbow of poop shooting out of its butt and across his forehead.

Amy smacked her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Her only option was a hasty retreat. She backed up a few steps, careful not to draw his attention, then spun on her heel and prepared to make a run for it. Only she ran smack into Ivan, the tallest and widest of her brothers. He caught her around the forearms and steadied her when she bounced right of his chest.

“Whoa, where you off to so fast?” Ivan said.

Amy looked back over her shoulder at Jake, but he was still working on his butterfly. Her eyes watered from the effort of not laughing.

“I have to help with the, uh, thing,” Amy said, waving her hand vaguely. She was glad Ivan was not the brightest of her brothers.

“Okay, just look where you’re going,” he said, and Amy nodded vigorously.

She started to walk away, but turned after a moment and said, “Ivan, what do you think about Jake?”

Ivan looked back into the tent at Jake, and shrugged. “Seems like a good guy. He’s kind of a shitty face painter, though.”

 Part 5: Tony

“Amy! Hey, Amy! Santiago!”

Amy looked up from the table where she was making beaded friendship bracelets with a group of 9-year-old girls. Tony was poking his head through the back of the craft tent.

“What’s up?”

“Your boyfriend, does he have any allergies?”

Amy frowned and narrowed her eyes at him. “Bees,” she said.

“Okay, but no, like, food allergies?”

“Not that I know of,” Amy said.

“Does he have a heart condition?” Amy shook her head. “What about phobias? Fear of heights? Enclosed spaces? How is he with spiders?”

“Tony-”

“Oh! There he is. Later, sis!”

Tony disappeared and Amy wondered if she should follow him.

“I think your boyfriend might be in trouble,” one of the 9-year-olds said.

Amy propped her chin in her hand and nodded.

“Do you think he’ll break up with you if he gets bit by a spider?” another 9-year-old said.

“No, he’d probably think that’s really cool,” Amy said.

The girls all nodded sagely.

“Boys,” one said.

“Men,” Amy said, and knotted a new bracelet for Jake.

 Part 6: Eddie

She wasn’t dumb or naïve. She’d expected her brothers to run Jake through the gauntlet at the annual carnival. She just hadn’t expected to see him sitting atop a pony that her 3-year-old nephew was pulling along by a rope.

“Isn’t he a little big for the pony?” Amy said to Eddie, who was leaning against the fenced enclosure and chewing on a blade of hay.

“Mason was scared so Jake offered to show him it was no big deal,” Eddie said.

Amy nodded and hoped that Mason didn’t noticed the white-knuckled grip Jake had on the saddle horn. At least it was a large pony – she thought it might actually be a small horse – so Jake probably wasn’t going to break its back. That would really freak out the children. Amy dug her phone out of her jacket pocket and debated briefly over whether to take photos or video, before deciding on both.

“Jake’s all right,” Eddie said, after the pony had trotted a few loops.

Amy slipped her phone back in her pocket and crossed her arms over the top of the fence, and hummed her agreement. Jake was the first boyfriend she’d brought to one of these carnivals, and though she’d been nervous for him because her brothers were all competitive jerks (she loved them, really), she hadn’t doubted for a second that they would like him. Her parents were going to be the real test.

When Mason finally called the pony to a stop with a very firm “whoa,” Jake slid off the animal’s back and walked a bit bow-legged to where they were watching.

“Nice riding, cowboy,” Amy said, grinning up at him. The pooping unicorn paint-job was still in remarkably good shape.

Jake kissed her on the cheek and tilted his head to one side to say in her ear, “If you tell anyone-”

“I already sent the photos to Gina.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth and backed up with a little wave.

“You’re a demon!” Jake called after her. “A harvest demon! That’s a thing!”

Amy blew him a kiss as Eddie threw an arm over his shoulder and pulled him back to the ponies.

 Part 7: David

Amy was sipping Mexican hot chocolate, watching the older couples dancing as the sun started to set and everything was turning golden and a little fuzzy around the edges, when Manny sidled up next to her and gave her a one-armed hug. She knew they were both thinking about their parents, and how they’d always closed down the carnival dancing, until they were the only couple left on the floor. When Amy was a child, the carnival wasn’t over until Victor dipped Camila and kissed her in front of everyone, and all the old men and women whistled and cheered and the kids groaned, and finally the last of the colored lights strung up and down the blocks were turned off.

“Where’s Jake?” she said to Manny, after they’d watched in silence for a while.

Manny fumbled in his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. “According to the group text, he’s in the first aid tent with David.”

“Group text?” Amy said with a frown. “I haven’t had anything on the group text all day.”

“Oh, right.” Manny scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Uh-”

“Oh my god. I’m not on this group text,” Amy said, a cold realization washing over her. “You guys really are trying to break my boyfriend.”

“Not break!” Manny said, throwing his hands up. “Just, you know, bend. A little.”

Amy groaned and rolled her eyes. “You guys are aware that it’s 2015 and I’m in my 30s and basically half of you are younger than me, right?”

“Yeah, we know-”

“Also, Jake can handle whatever you losers throw at him so bring it,” Amy said, and downed the rest of her hot chocolate. “And yes, I know I’m being a hypocrite but I’ve got the moral high ground here.”

She gave Manny a quick hug and punched him – hard – in the shoulder and took off for the first aid tent. Though David was probably the least likely of her brothers to cause physical damage to Jake, she was still deeply unsettled by the idea of them spending time alone together. Amy knew she was being just a little bit hysterical, but still: What if Jake liked David more than he liked her?

As Amy neared the back of the tent, she heard David before she saw him. “And now you peel off the plastic strip – no, not both sides at once! Wait, here, let me-”

“I know how to put on a Band-Aid,” said Jake.

“But there’s the correct way and there’s the way that lets flesh-eating bacteria fester,” said David.

The sudden loud sob of a child cut off the rest of their conversation. Amy smirked to herself and poked her head into a break between tent flaps. Jake was crouched beside a chair, and a curly-haired little boy was clinging to him like a monkey, face buried in Jake’s shoulder. David stood over them, cleaning his hands with a disinfectant wipe.

“I’ll radio the on-duty officers and see if they’ve had any luck finding his mom,” David said and headed toward the front of the tent.

“Yeah, you do that,” Jake muttered. He stood with the child still hanging off him, then settled himself in the chair and arranged the kid so he was curled on his lap. The boy looked like he was 4 or 5, and he had a fresh bandage on one knee and tears smudging the tiger stripes painted on his face.

“What’s flesh-eating bacteria?” the boy said with a hiccup.

Jake stroked a palm over the boy’s hair and said, “It’s like cooties, but for adults. And don’t tell anyone, okay, but that guy? He’s covered in flesh-eating bacteria.”

“Is that why his face looks so stuck up?” the boy said. Amy had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“Yep,” Jake said, patting the kid on top of the head. “You’ve got it.”

Jake and the kid made up a long, complicated, very detailed story about the origin of flesh-eating bacteria and how David got it. Amy watched them until the boy’s mom showed up, and he gave Jake a hug and made Jake kiss his knee. Both of her legs were asleep by the time she stood up and limped off to her next volunteer assignment. It was worth it.

 Part 8: Manny

“There’s no way I can do this, Ames. I give up!”

“Oh- well, okay. You want to go home then?” Amy tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. He’d been doing so well.

“What? No! I meant how am I supposed to pick a winner when they all look the same?” He gestured desperately at the costumed kids lining up on the parade route. “There are like 20 Jedi knights out there!”

“Oh yeah,” Amy said, peering over his shoulder.

Jake had been “randomly selected” as the sole judge of this year’s costume contest – the main event of the carnival for the neighborhood kids. (It was one of the holdovers from the earliest carnivals, which had always taken place around Halloween. The year they’d moved the carnival into mid-November they’d canceled the contest, and the kids had revolted. Nick, the youngest of the Santiagos and the only one still dressing up for Halloween, had led the riots.) Manny had told Jake that costume judge was a position of high honor as he placed the paper crown on Jake’s head. But Amy could tell Jake wasn’t buying it.

Indeed, it was a vastly unenviable job. There were three dozen eager, doe-eyed 3- to 10-year-olds vying for the prize. And 11 of them were Santiagos.

“You know, back when I was a kid we valued creativity,” Jake said, still staring down the Jedis.

“Oh yeah?” said Manny, who was half-heartedly trying to get the kids to line up by height. “And what’d you dress up for Halloween?”

“Are you sure you weren’t John McClane very year?” Amy said.

“I will give you ages 7 through 14,” Jake said.

“Fourteen?” Amy said, horrified.

“I meant 10,” Jake said. “Anyway. Before that I was a scarecrow-”

“Cute,” Amy said.

“E.T.”

“Adorable,” Manny said.

“Airline pilot.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” Amy said.

“Yeah. Then the next year I was George Michael.”

“Wait-” Amy said. “What?” Manny said.

“I was 6 and my mom was going through some stuff and listening to a lot of ‘Careless Whisper’ and you know what, never mind,” Jake said.

Someone blew a whistle then, loud enough to make a bunch of kids start crying. Amy wasn’t surprised to see David was the source – he was waving his arms wildly at Manny, clearly annoyed by the chaos on the parade line. Amy kissed Jake on the (non-unicorn) cheek and wished him good luck, and took her place with the rest of the volunteers wrangling kids. Jake sat alone on a folding chair that had been draped in fake orange velvet, with crepe-paper autumn leaves stapled all over. The costume judge was also deemed the carnival king (or queen), though Amy didn’t think anyone had told Jake that. They also probably hadn’t told him that when the judging was over he’d be manhandled to the official pie-throwing wall, which was sort of self-explanatory. Amy quickly checked her phone to make sure she had plenty of storage.

“Monster Mash” suddenly blasted out over the speakers mounted around the parade block and the first kids marched off in front of Jake. Amy stepped back and watched with a grin as Jake sat straight in his chair, the same focus in his eyes that she’d seen a hundred times when he was surveying a crime scene, not missing a thing. Manny came up on one side of her and Omar on the other, and she felt more than saw them make eye contact over the top of her head.

“Stop talking about me,” she said, nudging them both with her elbows.

“I’m just saying, if he doesn’t pick Matthew, your boy’s in trouble,” Omar said.

“Oh please,” Amy said, “that little Taylor Swift’s got it in the bag.”

 Part 9: Amy

Amy toed off her sneakers and climbed through the flap of the bounce house. It was well past dark, but in the dim, checkered light cast by the streetlamps, she had no problem making out Jake, sprawled spread eagle in the middle of the plastic floor. His eyes were closed, and tufts of whipped cream still clung to his curls, and though most of the painted unicorn was long gone she could still make out a smudge of rainbow poop across his brow.

She smiled to herself and crawled toward him, the inflated structure squeaking and wobbling under her weight. She stretched out beside him, and rested her head against his chest. He smelled like ponies and apple cider and sweet-rotten pumpkin and barbecue – like all of her best childhood memories. When he lifted a hand to stroke back her hair, she saw that he had about a dozen friendship bracelets on his arm, and a gauze bandage wrapped carelessly around his palm.

“Did I pass?” he said, voice still a bit croaky after all the yelling during the pie-throwing.

“With flying colors,” Amy said, and snuggled deeper into his side. She took his hand and kissed the palm, not sure if she wanted to know what had happened there. “Are you okay?”

“Hm,” he hummed, and she glanced up to see that he was smiling.

Amy let them lie there for a while, listening to the faint, familiar strains of bossa nova and imagining the couples dancing under the fairy lights. Maybe one day she and Jake would be one of those old couples, closing down the carnival while their sleepy children watched quietly and drank the last of the hot chocolate. She knew she was getting way ahead of herself – they’d only been dating a couple of months, after all – but she let herself indulge in the fantasy, just for now.

When she finally started to get cold, and she could hear the calls of volunteers tearing down tents, she sat up slowly and kissed Jake on a clean spot on his forehead, and then again on the mouth. She couldn’t resist lingering there, lips parting without a thought. She felt his sigh as he opened his mouth to her, letting her in. She was just starting to get warmed up when she went to run her fingers through his hair and got caught in a sticky tangle of sugar-coated curls. Amy chuckled into his mouth and pulled away.

“Come on,” she said, wiping her hand on her jeans, “let’s go home.”

He groaned sleepily and said, “This bounce house is home, Ames. I live here now.”

Amy laughed and tugged on both of his hands until he reluctantly sat up. “That new mattress isn’t going to break itself in, you know.”

At that Jake ducked his head and laughed, and they both clambered awkwardly out of the house, and crouched to slide their shoes back on. Amy took his hand again and led him away from the lights and the noise of the clean-up crews – she figured they’d earned an early exit.

“Next year I think I’ll just stick with the ring toss. Maybe face-painting if I can get Ivan to teach me how to do a dragon,” Jake said.

“Next year?” Amy said.

“Yeah,” Jake said, looping his arm over her shoulders. “And next year, David is carnival king.”

THE END

[illfoandillfie]

Ooh yess montreal roger fic plleaaaseee 😍

okay this has been on my ‘to write’ list for fucking ever lmao, so thanks for giving me an excuse to actually do it. Got a few of these sort of smaller concepts that idk if I could stretch into full fics so I might try and use a few of them next time I do one of those prompt list things.

~~~

You missed Roger. Tours were always hard, no matter how prepared for them you were. The idea that people existed in long distance relationships was insane. How could they stand it? Of course, they probably didn’t have to worry about their partner changing country every night or two. It was hard to write or call when you weren’t entirely sure where he was or what time zone he was in. You often waited for him to call you because even if you did manage to call at a reasonable hour and at the right hotel, it wasn’t always a guarantee he’d be around. Chances are he’d be half way through the extensive sound check the band liked to do. Or else he was walking around with camera in hand. They liked to explore the cities they visited, take photos and go shopping. He told you it was so he could share with you everything he saw when he got home. You had shoeboxes full of photos of the people they met and the places they travelled. Little knickknacks and souvenirs decorated your bookshelves. And of course. Roger wasn’t shy about splashing out for a fancy necklace or technological contraption that hadn’t reached England yet. Every time he brought you back something new you’d say the only think you really wanted him to buy you was a plane ticket so you could see him play to a foreign crowd. So when you opened a letter from him and discovered a plane ticket to Montreal you were beyond excited. You managed to pull some strings at work and get a whole week off which meant you’d be able to see both shows in Canada and still have a day or two to recuperate and deal with the jet lag.  

When you got off the plane Roger was waiting for you, pulling you into a tight hug as soon as you were within reach. “Missed you too Rog,” your voice was muffled by his shoulder. Once you were free from the bustling crowds of tired looking tourists and emotional parents and excited children, you found the car and made your way to the hotel. Roger gave you just enough time to drop your bags and quickly change into something that you hadn’t spent a stupidly long flight wearing, before he was dragging you back out the door. His hand was warm as he laced his fingers through yours, leading you into the city. He talked constantly, telling you about places people had recommended he take you, and the charming little bakery he and Freddie had discovered at about five in the morning when their body clocks were too out of sync to sleep any longer. The owners were fans and had let them take a few freshly baked treats back to the hotel and Christ he was sure it was around here, why couldn’t he find it again? The only times he stopped talking was when he made you pose for a photo or take one of him. You didn’t mind so much since he kissed you after every one. He was halfway through telling you about some historical fact he’d learnt from a brochure at the hotel when you cut him off by placing your hand over his mouth. “Rog, shut up for a minute.” “Rude,” he said into your hand before licking your palm until you pulled away again. “You’re such a chatterbox,” “I’m just excited that you’re here.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, “It’s nice sharing this with you for real, not just photos.” “It is, but it’d be even nicer if I could get a coffee.”

You got too caught up with your coffees, playing footsie under the table as you told him what’d been happening at home in his absence. Before you knew it the time had come to meet up with Freddie, Brian and Deaky. They ushered Roger away to rehearse, leaving you at the hotel on your own. It wasn’t too hard to amuse yourself. You had a long hot bath and a glass of champagne just because you could, followed by lunch ordered from the room service menu and TV. While you waited for the food you slipped into the lingerie you’d packed – a set Roger had picked out for you the last time he was in Paris – and grabbed the polaroid camera from his suitcase. You left the photos tucked inside one of his folded shirts as a surprise.  

When the time came to get ready for the show you slipped into one of the dresses you’d bought that morning on your trek with Roger, and spent a little extra time on your hair and makeup. The car arrived right on time taking you to the Montreal Forum where you got to watch the performance from side stage. It was incredible and exhilarating and fuck Roger looked good. You’d watched him drum hundreds of times before but something about his performance tonight was making it impossible to think of anything other than the filthy things you wanted him to do when you got back to your room. You couldn’t drag your eyes from his fingers as he twirled his drumsticks. Couldn’t stop watching as he pouted his lips and stuck his tongue out and threw his head back, so caught up in the music. And then the bastard had to go and do his solo, filling your head with visions of being bent over his tympani.  

By the time he came off stage you just about had to wipe drool from your mouth. All you wanted was to get him back to the hotel room as soon as possible.  “So what’d you think?” he asked, eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “That was insane. Fucking amazing,” you managed to get out, trying not to stare at his sweaty chest, completely exposed through his unbuttoned shirt. He caught you looking, raising his eyebrow as you sheepishly looked away. His eyes darted towards the others, standing a little further away talking to a few other people, and he leaned in as if he was going to hug you. “Think someone enjoyed the show a little more than she’s letting on,” he said into your ear. You shivered as his hand slid further down your back, his energy completely different from when you’d said goodbye to him earlier. You pressed yourself into his body but he pulled away with a quiet, “settle down love.” All the same he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the nearest door.  

You found yourself in a quiet hallway, the footsteps of the few people hurrying through it echoing off the walls. Roger peered through doors as he passed them until finally, he found one that he approved of. An empty office. You heard the lock click behind you and then you were being bent over the desk. “I promise that when we get back to the room,” he said as he pushed your dress up around your waist, “I’ll take my time. Fuck you slow, go down on you for hours, whatever you want. But right now,” he just about tore your underwear as he pulled them down your legs. “Again with the talking Rog. Just shut up and fuck me.” “You’re so...impatient,” he grunted as he pressed into you, pausing to allow you to adjust. As soon as you started rocking your hips back against him he grabbed your waist and began to move, thrusting into you at a ridiculously fast pace. You cried out, his hand coming up to cover your mouth instantly. “Jesus, Y/N, don’t wanna get caught,” But his hand wasn’t enough to properly muffle the moans slipping passed your lips. He stopped, his cock still buried in you, which only made you whine. “Rog, what the fuck are you doing?” you hissed as he removed his hand from your mouth. You were pinned to the table by his hips, clenching around him in a desperate attempt to get him to move again. There was a shuffle of fabric and then he was growling at you to open your mouth which you obeyed without thinking. He placed the bandana that had previously been hanging from his neck between your teeth, tying it off at the back of your head. It tasted like his sweat but that kind of just made it hotter. Roger gave an experimental thrust to test the gag. It did the trick, keeping your whines at a volume appropriate for a clandestine fuck in some manager’s office. Satisfied with his solution he began to ram into you again, pulling you up so he could squeeze your breasts. As he drew closer to his climax he dropped one hand down to your clit, rubbing insistently as he muttered into your ear about needing you to cum. It didn’t take much longer for him to have you moaning through your release as he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his own.  

He carefully slipped out of you, grabbing a few tissues from the box on the desk to at least partially clean up the cum dribbling down your thighs. You panted, resting your hands on the desk as you got yourself under control. He threw the tissues into the half full rubbish bin before pulling your underwear back up and smoothing your dress down.  “Those the knickers I got you from Paris? Kinda wish I hadn’t been quite so rough with them.” You tried to reply, tell him he’d owe you a new set if the damage was too bad, but it came out garbled because of the gag still in your mouth. “Sorry love, forgot about that,” he chuckled as he untied it, freeing you to talk again. “Where was that gag when you wouldn’t stop talking about that bloody bakery?” you teased, turning around and pecking him on the lips. “Hmm maybe taking it off you was a mistake. You did look very pretty like that,” “Save it for the hotel Romeo.” “Oh no, think I prefer hearing you scream. Whoever’s next door to our room is going to fucking hate us by the end of the night,” “I think that’s Bri and I think he already kinda does.” Roger laughed as he took your hand, “speaking of the hotel though, we should probably get out of here.” He eased open the door a crack so he could check the coast was clear before hurrying you out and back down the corridor.  

[prince-simon]

”i’m sorry but no” from the prompt list thingy (also hello i love and miss u 💗💗💗)

Anriiiii 💕 I love you and I miss you 💕 I hope you like what I did with this prompt - I made it Evak, I guess you have nothing against that :D Even is very smiley so I thought this was perfect for you 💕 also my sister was rewatching Gossip Girl so this has some influence of that haha - and it got longer than expected, which actually isn’t that surprising because I just can’t write short stuff haha

“I’m sorry but no,” Sana shook her head, a hint of pity on her features before she looked back down on her notes.

Isak groaned, bringing his hands to his face. “Sanaaaaa,” He whined, inclined to get out of his seat just so he could stomp his feet petulantly. “Please, it’s your duty as my best bud.”

Sana sighed and put her pencil down to glare at Isak. If they didn’t know each other as long as they did, Isak would be fucking terrified by that look. “We’re not best buds,” Was all she said.

Isak leaned back, balancing his weight on the hind legs of his chair. “Sana Bakkoush, we are best buds. Don’t try to fight it, you won’t get rid of me. So please don’t let me go through the Annual Valtersen Easter Soiree on my own. I won’t survive it!” Isak ranted dramatically.

Sana rolled her eyes at his antics and clipped, “Oh look at that. You don’t survive, I get rid of you. I win.” And promptly laughed at Isak’s scandalised expression.

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Isak tried to think of another solution. Because if he knew one thing it was that Sana didn’t easily change her mind once she had decided on something. “Who’s gonna be my partner for that stupid dinner party then?” He groaned, his mind drawing a blank.

“I’ll come with you.”

That was definitely not Sana having suddenly decided to do Isak a favour after all. Isak’s gaze travelled up a long torso until his eyes reached smirking lips and then blue blue blue. Isak crashed forward, back on all four legs of his chair, his stomach swooping uncomfortably when he thought he’d crash to the ground and break his neck. “Hi?” He said rather breathlessly, blinking owlishly at the stranger.

Confidence in person, he stretched out his hand, waiting for Isak to take it. “Even. Nice to meet you.”

“Uh, okay,” Isak sent Sana a quick, confused glance but she just shrugged, just as stumped as him, “I’m Isak?”

Even shot him a blinding smile, rocking back and forth on his heels for a moment, the awkward silence stretching between them. “So you need a date for that… soiree you said?” He eventually prompted.

Isak furrowed his brow, trying to sort his thoughts before coming up with a reply. “I do, uh— but. I don’t know you? Why would you offer yourself?”

He shrugged. “I’m bored and you’re cute. So…” He spread his arms, “Here I am. What do you say?”

What Isak would like to say is that this is crazy and quite frankly, he felt like he was missing the joke. But instead, he just gaped at him and the ever (un)helpful Sana piped up, “It’s a deal.” Isak whipped his head around so fast to stare at her that something in his neck cracked.

“Great,” There was that smile again, so warm that Isak was melting, “Here…” He leaned down and grabbed a napkin, fishing a pen out of his pocket, “That’s my number, send me the details. I gotta run, but I’m looking forward to this!”

When he was gone, Isak’s mind was running a million miles an hour. “What the fuck just happened?”

Sana smirked. “I got you a date to your parents’ soiree.”

—

“This is bullshit,” Isak groaned, pulling on his untied bowtie, undoing it completely again, “I’ll just text him that the party was postponed or something.”

Sana shook her head vehemently and pushed his fingers away as she started tying his bowtie. “You’re not gonna do that. I’m not letting you complain to me anymore how you want a boy to like you when you have one right there.”

Isak threw his hands in the air in frustration. “We don’t know him! He could be a crazy stalker!”

“He’s fine,” She assured him, “I did a background check. Followed him on instagram and everything. He has not liked any of your pictures from four years ago — I mean, why would he, you’re lame.”

Isak pouted, “Excuse you, my meme game is on point.”

“And that’s why you’re lame,” Sana smirked smugly. “Also,” She added as an afterthought, “He liked some of my pictures.” She patted his shoulders when she was done with his bowtie and Isak immediately darted for his phone, opening his instagram app.

Isak asked as casually as possible, “What’s his username?” But Sana laughed at him anyway.

“even.bn,” She told him and Isak immediately went through his recent notifications to see if he found that name anywhere. But no such luck.

In that moment, there was a knock on the door and Sana went to get it, grabbing her jacket on the way. “Hi Even, bye Even. Isak,” She said, pushing past Even before either of them could say anything.

Isak couldn’t do much more than stare at Even in his smoking and perfect hair and even more perfect smile. He was fucking breathtaking.

“You’re stunning,” Even complimented, stepping farther into the room.

And Isak was reeling. He was stunning? When Even came in here looking like that? “T-thank you,” He croaked.

Even grinned like he had just won the jackpot, crinkly eyes and everything. “Ready to go?”

They took the tram to the Valtersen residence — a place Isak nowadays only saw for events like the one tonight — not quite caring about the funny looks their attire got them as they couldn’t really look away from each other.

The ride wasn’t that long but as they exited the tram, Isak already felt like he knew Even so much better. The initial shyness was gone so Isak didn’t hesitate to loop his arm around Even’s offered one.

As per usual, the house was lavishly decorated for the soiree and already bursting with people, stalking around in their posh dresses and smokings, putting on fake smiles and posing for the camera.

When Isak spotted his mother, he tugged Even in that direction despite Even’s insistence of getting drinks first. “Hi mamma,” Isak greeted her with a smile, leaning in to hug her. “Pappa,” His tone dropped a little bit as he looked at the man next to Marianne and the hug he gave him was only for show. Isak cleared his throat, turning to Even, “These are my parents, Marianne and Terje. Uh, and this is Even…”

Only then did he notice the pinched expressions on his parents’ faces and Even didn’t seem quite as comfortable anymore either. “Mr and Mrs Valtersen, nice to meet you,” Even said politely, stretching out his hand for them to shake but dropping it when it hung between them awkwardly.

Isak’s brow furrowed even more when his father simply cleared his throat and turned away from their small circle demonstratively. Marianne’s lips left a soft spoken, “Mr Bech Næsheim,” that echoed between them.

As the name registered, Isak’s wide eyes turned to Even. The awkwardness suddenly made sense. He had brought the offspring of his family’s company’s biggest opponent to their soiree. “Excuse us,” Isak rushed out, pulling Even away unceremoniously.

A large vase hid them from curious eyes as Isak glared at Even. “What are you trying to do?” He hissed, feeling humiliated and stupid.

“Okay, I can explain this,” Even stepped closer to him, grabbing Isak’s hands, there was a pleading look in his eyes, “You being a Valtersen has nothing to do with me being here.”

“Doesn’t it?” Isak challenged because when it came down to it, Isak didn’t know Even and he definitely didn’t want to get hurt.

“No!” Even exclaimed, crossing the last bit of space between them. “I saw you the first time you came to KB to study with your friend. Sana, right? I kept seeing you and you were the most beautiful person I have ever seen and I was trying to find ways to talk to you so when you talked about this soiree, I grabbed my chance. It only dawned on me who you were when I got back home. But I was interested in you before I knew you were a Valtersen.”

Isak hated how insecure he sounded when he whispered, “Promise?”

Even nudged his nose against Isak’s, smiling softly. “Promise. Once you’ll get to know me, you’ll realise that I won’t pass up on the chance of a good old star-crossed lovers story.”

Isak’s lips parted slightly, his breath hitching. It felt a little overwhelming how fast this was going but what Even made him feel, he had never felt before. “Like Romeo and Juliet without the dying part?” He mumbled distractedly, running his nose along Even’s, their lips hovering so close to each other’s.

“Tell me you’ve seen Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet and I’ll tell you I’m already in love with you.”

Instead of replying to that peculiar request, Isak smushed their lips together, unable to stop smiling while they kissed. It was a little messy but oh so perfect.

Send me a pairing and a prompt

[iwritecuziwant]

[Original] A 20 meters square apartment

There are love stories that people yearn for, there are those that people cringe at and then there are us, ordinary people falling in love ordinarily.

I was an ordinary kid with ordinary hobbies, personality and interests. My parents had all these fantasies and high hopes of me. Like any other Asian parents. The older I grew, the more their dreams got shattered.

I got soaked in the rain. I had crushes on random people. I studied hard but I played harder. Those ordinary days I spent seemed never end.

“Studying here means you have no future!”

That was the most bullshit words my dad had ever spitted out. Yet, I never argued. Silence was a totem of my pride. Obedience was a shield full of despair.

I thought agreeing to study abroad was a way to escape. As well as the perfect reason to blame him for my failures. I thought I would never be able to mature. I thought I would always be a miserable coward.

Until I met the most beautiful creature, um... no... a girl I meant, on Earth.

Well, the story of us didn’t start when I first saw her on that balcony. She had her hair tied into a bun, her slim figure and light skin was all my parents would have asked for in a child. The beauty was far away, enough to hide her features from my thirsty gaze. But I could have bet she was a true beauty by then. My jaw must had dropped way down to the concrete floor, from where I stood and stupidly stared.

No, the story also didn’t start when an old lady with the most heart-warming smile took me, a total foreigner, in her apartment. Xenophobia was a thing for these people.

“It’s fine. You seem genuine” Was all she said and I successfully found a roof for myself in this faraway land.

The story may have started when I heard a loud thud in the middle of my favorite song. Out of all consequences one could think of, especially after living there peacefully for a long time, how many would think of blood and death? Such imagination sent my feet running towards the room.

I must thank my pessimistic imagination then, because in the pitch black room - in which one could barely see their hands through thick darkness - I found her.

“Gr-gramp?” With an out of breath voice filled with uncertainty, the beauty laid there on the floor - unconscious. Her pale face and the ladder lying randomly next to her got illuminated by my mobile flashlight. And the next thing I knew, I was next to the old crying lady on a hospital bench, impatiently staring at the emergency room.

What on earth was she doing in such darkness? The ladder might be a hint, she could have been fixing the lights. Anyhow, that was the best explanation I could think of.

“She will be fine” I cracked my head for the best vocabularies as I tried to comfort the poor old lady.

Luck smiled. The door from the emergency room swung open. And only one sentence, the stone weighing down on my heart was lifted.

“She’s awake.”

The story must have started when she turned her head towards us. “Suffocating beauty” was all I could think of as I eventually realized our eyes never met.

-------

“Hey! Turn the music down!!”

It took me insisting on visiting her everyday with the excuse of “Just to make sure” until she was comfortable enough with our small talks through our balconies. The apartment was small enough that there was only one room each floor. Her room was right above mine all those time and I never saw her once until the incident.

“Can I come up there?” I casually threw my head backwards as I tried looking over for the balcony above my head.

“For what? Making sure again?” She laughed with the voice that could send anyone begging for her attention. “It’s been a week!”

“No, I just wanna hang around” I finally told her the truth for once.

Dead silence. Slight panic washed over me as I quickly search for some humour, awkward humour. “Princess, what shall I need to be your friend? A glass slipper?”

There was a quiet chuckle and I almost missed it.

“What’s the point? I don’t possess a pumpkin coach anyway.”

“I don’t care what you possess. I just wanna be your friend.” I replied in a hearbeat. “Unless... you don’t want me to.”

Another wave of awkward silence.

“...Why?” She finally asked. Timidly.

“Well...” I scratched the back of my head, wishing I had learnt more cheesy lines in her language. I stuttered with all I had in mind. “Because I like you? No wait. Not like like. More like friendly like. Ugh... How can I say this...”

Another contagious laughter came. Gosh, I love it.

Before I could die of embarrassment...

“Ok. Come up here, weirdo.” She said, a hint of amusement lingered in her voice.

I died of happiness.

---------

“What does this word mean?”

I never failed to show up twice a week at her place since then. For small talks. Gradually, I learned about her name. Her job, a freelance commercial writer as well as a novelist. I knew she was older than me, but then I learned her age. Her dark room got brighter and brighter as time goes by. My gadgets appear on her dining table bit by bit. My favorite music she once hated deliberately danced with her orchestra albums. Her uneasy frown slowly turned to a calm and welcoming smile. Like a cat, she slowly got comfortable with my presence.

“Spell it.” She said without turning to me. The slim figure, wearing a comfortable black pyjama, quietly sat at the small desk.

“Wait, you’re working?” I looked at her laptop screen. The usual notepad filled with neat words was not there, she was staring at a blank page, headset on, words were typed and deleted like she was drumming an aimless beat.

My eyebrows arched.

“Love.” She simply explained. It didn’t take her long to throw herself on the desk, yawning defeatedly. “I have zero experience. Can’t write.”

“Want me to share my experience?” I laughed, couldn’t help putting a hint of pride in my tone. Although... the longest relationship I have ever been in only lasted for 2 months, I didn’t plan to tell her that.

Her eyes widened as she put her headset down on the desk, finally turning to face me.

“You? Experienced in love?” The puzzled look sold her out. “You sound like a kid!”

That was her way to say I sounded inexperience.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to” I pouted, attempted to show my bruised ego.

An angelic laughter sent my heart ringing.

---------

“I wanna go shopping. Come with me!!”

Questions turned to suggestions. Hesitation turned to bold ideas. Things came after another. Time flew by. The number of visits stacked up. Until I knew it, I had been popping up at her door randomly, anytime. Yet, I never saw her out. I even prepared to receive a refusal as well as a prompted why question. The angel never ceased to ruin my pessimistic side.

“Sure. We might as well have a walk!” She lazily shouted out from her bedroom.

“Wait... That was easy?” I shut the door behind me as I automatically flicked on the lights.

“Did you expect a no?” She emerged from her bedroom, leaning on the wall to put on her socks.

She wore a simple white sweatshirt with a black pleated skirt, a casual outfit but it made her wonderful body stood out. I blinked as I tried to turn away from the sight.

“Well... um...”

A mischief smirk was hanging her face. I felt like a thief being caught red-handed and stammered.

“You meanie” I huffed, crossing my arms.

The girl finally bursted out laughing, holding her stomach as her tears leaked out. “I get it” She said through her laughter.

“I rarely go outside. Gramp brings me food anyway.” She wiped a tear as she made her way to the door, to where I was.

“She doesn’t let you go outside?” My voice filled with shock and uncertainty as my jaw dropped.

“Don’t think of her like that.” She pulled out a pair of black boots. “I’m just lazy.”

“So it’s my pleasure you agreed to tag along then?”

“Yes. You should be grateful” She chuckled as we locked her door.

We went out for the first time

-----------

Love was a luxurious word.

“What is love?” I once asked myself.

The images I had was full of those sudden romeo-and-juliet cliché moments. The imaginations were all those romantic movies scenes that one rarely found in real life. I had been waiting for such love.

I had been waiting for a sudden magic touch that washed all of my senses away. I had been waiting for an intentional hit that made me realize the dull world I lived in. I had been waiting to become a character in those fairy tales we read.

“Then, how do we know if we were in love?”

“How do we know if it was the person?”

The longer I spent with her, the more I wondered about love. I caught myself daydreaming more, the fantasies of us holding hands and travelling to places started kept knocking the door. I was caught staring so many times that a regular "because you're beautiful" didn't suffice anymore. I painted her in my memory. The wrinkles by her eyes when she smiles. Her quiet blush and how she bit her lower lip whenever she caught me staring. How her hand brushed away some of her hair when she tried to focus.

It finally dawned on me. I fell in love.

The thought scared me. The possible consequences horrified me. I got terrified upon realization.

The love I once wished for came. But it was not luxurious. It was not magical. It was not sudden.

It was sneaky.

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

I spent days and nights thinking about the “What if” questions

Her shaky voice, trembling hands and slightly torn lip gave away her fear as she poured her heart out about how much she hated herself.

It broke my heart to pieces as I ran my hand carefully on her sweaty back.

The slight smile she pulled as I complimented on her great observation skills haunted me.

“My life requires observation after all”

Those words were light as feather yet it felt like an oppressive mountain she was under.

The tingling sensation whenever we held hands. The electricity hit me whenever our fingers intertwined. Those were all familiar, yet scary, feelings.

Butterflies in the stomach, they say.

The closer we got, the harder to hide.

The fear grew together with the curiosity.

“Why do you spend so much time with me?”

A touch of loneliness, a touch of hesitation, a touch of doubt... yet, there was also a touch of hope in her nervous voice.

The way her face swiftly changed from a surprised expression, and a hurtful disappointed bit on her lips, to a faint smile of acceptance. The way her shoulder tensed as she got stiffened. It was her best cover whenever she was hurt.

Yet, such cover came up when she first heard of people hitting on me.

Such cover was there when I joked about having a crush on someone.

Such cover was there so many times that I had to struggle from getting high hopes.

If I must be honest, I intentionally pulled such cover up in her ... as a childish way to check.

“How do you know you’re in love?”

Her ambiguous gaze, her hand holding her chin and her dreamy eyes.

My heart lost a beat. Whether was it hope or was it fear, I never knew. Might be both.

“If you ask that question, it is certain that you are” I tried to pull the most genuine smile I could. The horrible knot in my guts made me feel like vomitting.

“Could it be me?” I asked myself.

I don’t know.

A part of me wished she would. Another part was filled with doubts.

However, the thought of her dating someone else never settled.

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

Love was a sweet friend of jealousy. Love was the mother of anxiety. And, love, was the house of unordinary emotions.

She lost in thoughts more often.

She  usually bit her lips with faint red colored cheeks.

She listened to love songs that she swore she would never like.

Yet... I also realized

Her smile dropped.

Her usual frown took place.

Her nervous tapping rythm.

Her heavy sigh.

“Do you ever think of telling them?”

One day, I dropped the question.

She was dumbfounded.

“No. I’m pretty sure I’m out of their league.”

She sounded out of breath with a faint smile. It seemed forced. There was a vague sadness lingered in her usual unfocused gaze.

In a moment, I thought I could have stolen a kiss from her.

I was an ordinary kid. But dear God, I started having unordinary desires.

She liked her fluffy smooth pillow.

She liked the smell of honey and orange.

She liked the sound of orchestra music.

She liked being lazy indoor as she listened to the falling rain.

She liked drinking warm milk before bed.

She liked comedy genre movies.

I never had the courage to ask her directly if my name was in her favorite list.

However...

I caught her hugging my mohair teddy bear.

I caught her satisfied smile as she was sniffing the scent of coffee in my cup.

I caught her turning up my favorite album which she claimed “not my cup of tea”.

I caught her excitedly checking for the weather everyday before our trips.

I caught my favorite tea brand in her cupboard.

I caught her gripping me tightly whenever we turned on horror movies - her most hated genre on Earth, she said.

There were so much more, yet I was too afraid to believe in the hints I got.

They said Love is blind and I sure was.

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

Sometimes it takes one to realize how easily they can lose a person to say the words.

Sometimes it takes one to realize they are out of time.

Sometimes it takes one to reminisce to realize they missed their chance.

Love is not cruel.

Time is not heartless.

It was just us being indecisive.

I felt like a kid losing his toy as I helped packing her luggage. She was gonna go back to her hometown.

I was so used to her presence after all those time that I vividly felt a hole drilled inside my heart.

“You’re quiet. What’s wrong?”

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms as her face twisted into a concerned look.

What could I say? Don’t leave me?

I furrowed my eyebrows.

I had never felt so uneasy, scared and irritated, ever. Never.

I wanted to lie as I usually did. Yet, something was holding me back.

“I’m ok. Don’t worry” Those words could have ended everything.

Have I always been that coward? My dad words came rushing back into my brain.

Have I always been forced to do things I didn’t wanted? The bullshit totem of pride, silence, was what I needed to get rid.

Have I always been left with no choice? Obedience, my ass.

So what if I got rejected?

So what if things wouldn’t work out?

Screw consequences.

I didn’t want to have regrets anymore.

“I think I’m in love”

I muttered under my breath. Finally.

-----------

Love is weird.

It could lift us to the highest clouds.

It could bury us to the lowest grounds.

It could blew a wind of courage into our soul.

It could destroy our confidence in one beat.

It could enlighten our darkest world.

It could darken our brightest mood.

It all depended on how the person chose to take our love.

I gently squeezed the graceful hand in mine. I chuckled as I see the blush started creeping onto her face.

“What?” She mumbled, burying her reddened face into the wool scarf we were sharing.

“I was wondering... What did you do with the ladder the day I found you?”

“I was checking the lights.”

I blinked, trying to digest what she was saying.

“I thought you never use it?”

“I don’t.” She shrugged. “But it kills no one to prepare for the day prince charming comes banging on the door.”

We both laughed. And... That was enough for me.

There are love stories that people yearn for, there are those that people cringe at and then there are us, ordinary people falling in love ordinarily.

[classicalbughead]

The Black and Gold

A Riverdale AU

Rating: M (might also get explicit)

Pairing: Bughead

Additions: Multiple chapters, Slow Burn, Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers

Summary: Jughead Jones, Prince of the Southside, transfers to Riverdale High and begins working at The Blue and Gold with Betty Cooper, the perfect girl next door.

They are completely different, but when the Serpents get framed for the abduction of a Northside girl, Jughead and Betty take matters into their own hands and begin investigating.

Are they doomed to end like Romeo and Juliet?

Huge thanks to @beanie-betty I couldn’t have done it without you :)

Read on AO3 here

Chapter 4: Hemingway

“What did you do?” Betty screamed at her mom as soon as she had shut the door behind her.

Alice Cooper stuck her head out from the kitchen. “I made some lasagne, do you want some?”

“No, Mom, what did you say to the Sheriff about Jughead?”

“Why? What happened?” Alice asked sanctimoniously.

“He had to go straight to the Principal’s office first thing in the morning and now he isn’t allowed to talk to me for whatever reason, so what did you say?” Betty urged. She didn’t break eye contact with her mother, who had abandoned the food in the kitchen and was now facing her daughter.

“I just want what’s best for you, Elizabeth. And that Jones boy…he doesn’t sound like good news to me.”

“You don’t even know Jughead, Mom. You just hate him because of what he represents. The dangerous Southside, the Serpents. But like I told you yesterday, he isn’t his father,” Betty explained.

“Well, Betty, how can you say that when you haven’t even met FP?”

“FP? So, you guys know each other?” Betty asked, confused, and then her eyebrows furrowed, “Wait…so you don’t think Jughead’s the problem here, it’s because something happened between you and his father, right?”

Alice didn’t answer, but judging from her silence Betty knew she had been right.

“So, did you…you know?” Betty inquired. Just the mere thought of that gave her goosebumps, but she had to know the truth.

“What? No, nothing like that…” Alice shook her head vigorously. “Look, Betty, I’m not very proud of what happened, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If you don’t want to talk about that, maybe you could tell me what you said to Sheriff Keller?” Betty demanded persistently.

“I…I told them that he…harassed you,” Alice confessed.

“You did what?” Betty asked furiously.

“I just want to keep you safe.”

“Thank you for being worried about me, but Jughead isn’t any danger, Mom. I told you so yesterday. Why didn’t you believe me?” Betty asked accusingly.

“Because I hoped I could prevent you from making the same stupid decision I made.”

Betty’s eyes grew wider. “What stupid decisions?”

“Please, Betty, not now,” Alice murmured, rubbing her temples.

“If you’re not going to tell me, at least call Sheriff Keller and explain to him that everything you said was just a big misunderstanding and that Jughead isn’t guilty. Also, if you would be so inclined, I would like to invite Jughead for dinner tomorrow, so you can get to know him and see that he isn’t who you think he is.” Also, she added in her head, Jughead probably hasn’t had some warm food in days.

“Okay, fine, but promise me that you won’t tell anybody about what I told you. Including your father and that mini-serpent, understood?” Alice requested.

“Understood. I will also ask him to bring some writing, maybe you could hire him for an internship at the Register in the summer?”

“We’ll see, Elizabeth,” Alice said with her usual bitter tone.

Betty grinned. Having Alice do what she had wanted felt like a small victory. She quickly took out her mobile and texted Jughead to meet her at Pop’s.

***

Here he was again, in that dark small room he hated so much. He had to admit, he hadn’t been extremely surprised when the Sheriff asked him to come to yet another interrogation, but what had confused him was what he accused him of.  Harassing Betty Cooper; as if Jughead would ever hurt the only person on this side of town that somewhat tolerated his presence.

Of course, the Sheriff hadn’t believed him when he had said that he would never dare to touch Betty Cooper.

“I don’t want to sugar-coat it, Jughead, but you are a gang member and live on the Southside, a place that is filled with crime, so you see that these charges aren’t without any reason,” the Sheriff explained.

Except they were. How was being a member of a gang a crime? And how could being born on the alleged wrong side of town could be in any way a felony? But Jughead didn’t say any of that to Sheriff Keller. In fact, the only words he managed to say were, “I would never hurt my best friend.”

Sheriff Keller raised an eyebrow. “Your best friend?”

Instead of answering, Jughead just nodded and began playing with his beanie, which he’d had to take off when he entered the Sheriff’s office.

“Look, Jughead, I really want to believe you-“ Lie. ”-but the fact that you were here just a couple of days ago isn’t helping either. It only adds fuel to the fire that you had something to do with the mysterious disappearance of Polly Cooper. And now you’re harassing her sister? It doesn’t look too good for you,” Keller said, faking a sympathetic smile.

“Maybe I can share a bunk bed with my dad then,” Jughead murmured.

“Excuse me?”

Jughead made a repellent gesture and sunk back into his chair. The Sheriff sighed and left Jughead alone in the tiny room. He just hoped that, by some miracle, he would get out of here; and for some reason, this miracle would be Betty Cooper herself.

As if someone had heard his prayers, the door flew open a few minutes later and Sheriff Keller returned.

Ready for round two? Jughead thought, but the Sheriff looked angry and a little bit embarrassed.

“So uhm…Jughead, well…Alice Cooper just called me to tell me that all of this was just a big misunderstanding. I’m sorry if we caused you any problems.”

“I’m free to go then?” he asked, and the Sheriff nodded. Jughead put on his beanie and fled the Sheriff’s office.

“I hope we don’t see each other again soon, Jones,” the Sheriff whispered to himself.

***

The neon lights shone on her blonde hair and gave it a slight shimmer. Betty Cooper’s ponytail bounced into Pop’s just a few minutes after Jughead had arrived there.

“Hey,” she whispered as she slid into the booth. Jughead smiled shortly and then straightened his position.

“Look, this little incident earlier today…was that because of our argument a couple of days ago?” Jughead asked. His voice was curious, not angry, Betty noted.

“No, I had nothing to do with it. My mom…”

“She thought I was a serial killer, who is only hanging out with you to get into your pants?” Jughead ended her sentence for her.

Betty blushed. “I’m sorry, Jug.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Jughead said softly. “Mothers aren’t a huge fan of me.”

The sadness in his voice prompted Betty to raise her eyes at him. But he was staring out of the window.

“I may have invited you for dinner tomorrow,” she admitted, “So my Mom will get to know you and see that you aren’t as dangerous as she thinks you are.”

“I’m very dangerous if I want to be, Cooper,” Jughead teased, “But thank you for inviting me over.”

“I also thought…Maybe we could, you know, check out that house after dinner tomorrow.”

“You want to go to that haunted thing?” Jughead asked, surprised.

“If Polly is there…God, Jug, I don’t know what she has to endure,” Betty murmured.

“Hey,” Jughead whispered, gently stroking her hands. She glanced up at this unexpected gesture. As she lifted her eyes to his, she saw him staring at her. She looked into his stormy blue eyes and just for this moment, all her doubts and worries went away, and she felt at ease.

“Will you come with me?” she asked him after taking a few calming breaths.

“Of course, I couldn’t let Nancy Drew walk into that house alone. You do know that there’s an abductor on the loose?” he said, beginning to eat his fries.

Betty suddenly missed his touch on her skin, but proceeded to drink her milkshake. “I appreciate you looking out for me. What would I do without you, Hemingway?”

Jughead grinned at her. “Well, for once your mother wouldn’t have anything to complain about,” he answered.

“She hates when I don’t live up to her expectations. It feels good to break her rules,” Betty confessed, a slight smile playing on her lips.

“Are you just using me to rebel against your mother’s dictatorship?” Jughead asked, amused.

“No, I also keep you around because you are a pretty good writer, Jones.”

Jughead smiled and finished his burger. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Luckily, Jughead began searching for his money so he couldn’t see Betty blush. “I’ve got it,” she told him.

“What? No, you already invited me over for dinner, Cooper. Besides, you only had a milkshake, whilst I consumed half of Pop’s,” he remarked. Betty giggled, but she let him pay.

“See you tomorrow, Cooper,” Jughead said as Betty put on her coat.

“I expect you to show up at seven, not a minute later,” Betty ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jughead said smiling. His eyes stared at her lips for a second, and Betty caught herself thinking what she would she do if he did kiss her right now.

But a minute later Jughead had already reached his bike and Betty gave him a little wave as he disappeared into the night.

[bellaciaobitch]

Too much broken

Hello everyone! Thx for your support on my last post, it really meant a lot to me. I’m also open for jopper prompts so if you have some good ideas please do share! I’ll be really really happy to write them :) Ok, here we go. *deep breaths* Summary: After the parking lot scene. Hopper and Joyce share their thoughts and frustrations while waiting for the kids at the SnowBall and Joyce is too confused about her feelings. Mainly angst-jopper. ***

"Ya know I'll always be here, right?" Jim said placing a kiss on top of Joyce's head. She was so tiny in his arms that he was a little scared he would break her in half if he hug her too tight.

Joyce took a deep breath and hesitated before pulling herself closer and losing her weight in his chest. "I know" she said but it sounded muffled against the fabric of his shirt. In the distance they could hear Every Breath You Take echoing in the school’s gym and Jim could only imagine the kids teaching Jane how to dance. And by the kids, he meant Mike.

“I mean it.” he swallowed a little smoke and smiled to himself, picturing the big family they could built when all the trauma passes. “I’ve always been here… And i’ll be for as long as it takes”

Joyce looked up propping her chin in his chest. Her big eyes were full of confusion and maybe even a hint of fear. He cursed himself for the whole speech immediately, afraid that he was too invasive.

“Hop, if you mean…” she started, avoiding his eyes “No, sorry, forget it. I was just being stupid.” “You’re not stupid. It’s just that everything that happened is still so vivid in my mind, it’s hard to think about anything else.”

Hopper remained silent. He wanted to say that it was ok, that he understood her point and that he’d be patient. But the words got stuck in his throat and all he could do was stare at the lights that shined through the the gym windows.

Truth is, Jim was tired of understanding her point. He was doing that for more than 16 years now. He understood her when she started dating Lonnie in High School because he was a member of the basketball team and they “belonged” together. He also understood when she said they should stop hanging out because Lonnie was too jealous of her and he could get aggressive. He understood when Lonnie left and she was too worried about her children to answer his phone calls and finally he understood when she started dating Bob for the sake of her mental health.

Deep inside Jim felt horrible for thinking like that but he couldn’t avoid the frustration. Yes, he was going to wait for her. Always. But he wished she would cut with the excuses, he wished she would say the words he knew she wanted to, he wished…

“Look, I know we have… history.” Joyce said, letting go of his embrace to stand in front of him. She hold both of his hands to catch his attention. “And I know I’ve been letting you down for a long time. But I also know what my heart is telling me. And right now, I’m healing.” her voice was starting to fail and he caressed her hand with his thumb as she continued.

“It seems like everyone around me gets hurt somehow and I’m not ready to bring someone new into my life, it’s too risky. You’ve been around for a while now and you nearly died under that goddamn tunnel. I almost lost you there! I can’t lose you too, Hop”

Big tears were streaming down Joyce’s face and Hopper felt his heart racing. He wanted to make it stop, to make her whole again. To erase those two years of her life even if it meant not getting in touch anymore. But all he could do was comforting so he hugged her one more time, letting her cry on his chest.

“You won’t lose me.” he simply said, drawing circles on her back with his fingers, in and attempt of soothing her.

They stayed like that for a long time, hours. Joyce eventually stopped crying but didn’t pulled away and Hopper was too distracted listening the echoed songs and smelling her hair to think about anything else. It was only when they heard voices in the entrance of the parking lot that Joyce pulled away, afraid that it was their kids. He offered her another cigarette in silence and she accepted with a small smile.

“You said you’ll always be here” she said after a pause. “Are you sure you’ll wait? I’m too much broken.”

“Yeah.” He said, puffing out some smoke “I know that feeling, you know? Of being like a black hole and everyone around you disappears or gets hurt. I’m too much broken too, Joyce. So yeah, I’m sure I’ll wait. Maybe someday we can not be broken together.” Hopper didn’t have the guts to look at her when himself was feeling too emotional. So he kept staring at the cars around them while he felt her hand squeezing his in reassurance.

Dustin, Mike, Jane, Will, Nancy and Jonathan left the Ball not too long after that. They were laughing together as if nothing had happened just three months ago and Joyce and Hopper exchanged a look of cherish and love that only the two of them would understand. Those children were the only thing that made them believe that better days were about to come.

“Hey, how was it?” Joyce said kissing the top of Will’s head. “Oh, it was good! Will even got a date!” Dustin said winking and poking the boy with his elbow. “Yeah, and Dustin slow danced with Nancy” Will answered in the same joking tone. “He did what?” now Mike was the one to enter the argument sounding outraged as Nancy rolled her eyes. Joyce noticed he had one arm around Jane’s shoulders, mimicking the way Jonathan hugged Nancy, and she immediately narrowed a look to Hopper who folded his arms in response.

“Alright, I see you all had tons of fun tonight but it’s freezing here, time to go home.” he said ending with the boy’s discussion. “Hm, Mrs Byers, would you give me a ride home? I didn’t exactly told Steve to pick me up” Dustin voiced a little embarrassed. “Sure, Dear! Anyone else needing a ride?” “Wait, where’s Lucas and Max?” Hop interrupted, looking around and not finding the two. “He’s taking her home by bike.” Mike explained “I’d do the same with Jane but…” “Yeah, yeah, we get it, Romeo. Let’s go then, I’ll take you home” Hopper said snitching his daughter from Mike for a semi-hug.

“Honey, aren’t you coming with us?” Joyce asked Jonathan who was already walking hand in hand with Nancy to his own car. “No, we’ll have dinner some place quiet. Hm… I won’t be late, promise” “Okay, just be careful! And drive safe!” she said but the teens were already on their way out. Jonathan placed a kiss on his mother's cheek and Nancy gave her a shy goodnight before entering in his car and leave the parking lot.

“Kids, you can go in, we’ll be there in a minute” Hopper said letting go of Jane. They all changed a look but the adults pretended not to noticed. “And I want to see everyone with their seatbelts on when I come” Joyce said to Dustin and Will after saying her goodbyes to Mike and Jane.

When the doors were closed and the kids were each in their cars, Joyce and Hopper put out their cigarettes. “So, see you around?” he said putting his hands on his pockets. “Yeah, I guess”  Joyce tried to smile but couldn’t hide the hurting. It was too much like a goodbye and she was never good at those.

He was almost turning around when she called from him one last time. Joyce stood on her tip toes to frame his face with one hand and place a little pack on his mouth. Just like old times, under the stairs, between fifth and sixth period.

“Thanks for today.” she whispered near his ear and let him go. Hopper was smiling when he nod, briefly caressing her face in return.

They didn’t say a word walking back to their own cars. And if the children had seen anything, they chose not to comment, for the relieve of the adults, who drove all the way back home thinking about each other.

BONUS:

“Do you think there’s something going on there?” Mike asked when Jane closed the door of the back seat. “Hm?” she said, confused. “There. Between Hopper and Joyce” Mike pointed to the back window and Jane discreetly looked them both talking through the rear-view mirror.

“Something… going on?” Jane asked again a little bit impatient. She hated when the boys talked in codes like that. “Yeah, hum… do you think they more-than-like each other?” the boy explained, turning around on his seat to stare at the window “Like, love?” Jane asked staying in the same position as he was, looking at her father.

Inside the car, the kids could see the two of them putting down their cigarettes and talking awkwardly. Hopper seemed very uncomfortable with the situation and when he was finally ready to leave, Joyce smiled and touched his face before placing a fast kiss in Hopper’s lips.

“OH!” Mike said, his eyes growing big with surprise “I knew it, I KNEW IT! They are totally into each other, did you see that?” “Yeah” Jane said still confused and now a bit shocked. She really didn’t saw that coming. “If things keep on moving like this it means that soon you’ll have a new mom, El!” the boy seated straight to eye her.

“A new momma?” Jane now was more than confused.  She was worried. She already had a mom and liked her very much. She didn’t want to replace her mom just because her mind was lost forever. But on the other hand, Joyce was always very kind to her, they shared a connection since that day in the school when Jane submerged into the upside down to contact Will. She loved Joyce and appreciated everything that she had done for her, but…

“Quick, he’s coming back” Mike poked her so Jane would sit straight like him. “Not a word!” Jane gestured for him to be quiet placing a finger in her lips. Mike just nodded.

“Alright” Hopper said sitting in the driver seat “You guys hungry? Should we pass on a drive thru before home?” “Yeah!” Mike said with excitement “Eggos?” Jane smiled, looking from Mike to Hopper

“Sure, kid” he laughed turning the radio on. Jim spent the whole way to the drive thru humming an old 60’s song and when Jane thought he was distracted enough, she got closer to Mike to whisper in his ear:  “I think Joyce makes him halfway happy”

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Donghyun X Reader

Summary:Sometimes, love isn’t always on time. It takes a little longer before it happens.

One-shot

Please don’t read if you’re innocent, this is smut and mature content, please read other works if you like my fanfiction but, don’t read the smut. Just this is for mature readers and/or over 18 readers.

Prompt: 17. Snow day? You know that means another day for you and me. Single Dad Au (I’ve seen this one so often it just makes me so happy) My best friend is a single parent, his girl friend at the time when she had the kids. Decided that she didn’t want them, walked out on him soon after. He was so crushed, he loved his kids with the epitome of mollycoddling . He was so protective of the two twins. The boys are so adorable, the minute I heard–being as I had to find out from his ex–that she had left him for dead to care for these kids. I immediately pitched in, so worried for him. He was worried that he might end up snapping their necks by holding them wrong. I was a babysitter when we were younger, so I knew how to care for little babies. I taught him everything I knew, I pitched in money as well. As much as I could, without having my bills and landlord coming after me. The first time, he feed them real chewable food when they were one and a half. He was so nervous, and I got it on a Polaroid so his kids when they got older could look at the baby book that I was throughly working on every day for him–I bought it for him as a gift–who would expected that I’d have to fill it out. He ended up just asking me to live with him so we could take care of them together more efficiently Who am I to say no to not having to pay one more bill. It was more money I could pitch in to raise his twin baby boys. The hardest part was when they came home from their first day of Kindergarten we both took of the day. I’ll be honest I did shed a few tears, but this one over here was a mess. Like a mom that lost his kid to the war, I mean he’s not wrong Kindergarten is war. Well for me the one who started food fights and ended up tripping over this poor excuse I have for a best friend. We came quick friends after that. Back to the point, when they came home his son, ‘Dae-young’ asked the more talkative of the two, “Is (Y/n) our omma?” We looked at each other for a good minute not expecting him to have said that. As his brother ‘Jae-young’ came up to me and sat on my lap like always. And I could just see the gears practically grind in his head. And he answers with a question, “Why would you ask?” “Because last week our teacher was talking about us telling about our parents. And this week we’d have to tell about our appa and omma.” Jae-young answers swiftly. I look over scanning Donghyun to help him answer. And I decide, “If you really need to talk about someone use me as your omma, okay?” They both nod their pretty little heads. I look over at Donghyun and he gives me a sweet sincere smile. If we weren’t busy with this race against time to make sure these kids end up okay. I would date him, I have felt this spark for him since we were younger. The reason I noticed it was when we wend over to a party when we were 6th graders and acted like we were all cool since we had friends in 7th grade that were throwing a party. We ended up playing truth or dare and he was dared to kiss me. Both of our first kisses gone just like that. I wouldn’t have changed it. Yes, the way I coped with my feelings was date other guys and as did he with other girls. And yes, sloppy seconds exist and I’ll be a liar if I didn’t go out with a chick he went out with, as he went out with a guy I went out with as well. I would have loved or given anything for us to have ended up together. But he thought this girl who had these two twins was the one. And wanted to marry her and everything, I was on my way of moving on. Well, not all the way, he is still my best friend we were going to have our movie talks. Since his girlfriend and I, didn’t actually despise each other like it usually happens if the guy has a girl best friend. No, actually we got along quite well with each other. When she had left him she told me, she told me that she’d be heading away as well. And she wishes me well and him. She just can’t see herself ever raising kids that it hurt so much that she had to have them, she didn’t want to go through that again and she was heading to Britain, to attain a new path. When she left, I was still in a state of shock, that would be the last time I’d ever see her or hug her. And I went to Donghyun’s house to see him in despair but fervently trying to change Dae-young’s diapers without crying. That was the day I went out an bought him the baby book to remind him to always be happy for these little ones, it will mean a lot to them when they get older. I finally snap back into reality when I feel little hands on my shirt tugging at it, I look down to see Dae-young trying to get my attention, and he says, “Will you read us a bedtime story, (Y/n)?” I nod and pick up this little bundle of joy as Donghyun does to Jae-young and he spins him around. And I shake him around and kiss Dae-young’s head knowing he doesn’t like to be spun around like that. Rather in fact, he quite despises it he’d rather be cuddled with, I get that. We put them in their room, I tuck in Dae-young as Donghyun tuck in Jae-young. I sit in the chair as Donghyun sits on the floor. Acting as a kid ready to sleep, my luck he falls asleep and I’ll have to carry him to his room. I start telling the three of them about a heroic prince who the ladies swooned for, how he was fearless, bold, and not afraid of anything. Well except for his love the princess, he was afraid of her the most beautiful, kindest, and if you don’t shut your mouth Donghyun you’ll never get to know her last quality. Which is cunning she wasn’t afraid to battle and rather she was quite good at it, she would strike you like you were a monster. And that’s what he was afraid of. So the day he worked up the courage to finally tell her, she major shocker rejected him. He was devastated, his buddy Romeo decided to go after her and actually won her over. They battled but he gave up and moved on to another, a little more worried about the impending future. He asked her after three months of courting her, and unlike the princess before that wasn’t really worth his time that much. The sweeter, yet daring, and funny princess said, yes. When she did he couldn’t believe it and it was long before they had a marriage, they got married five weeks later, and were busy figuring out how to rule the land under fair rule where no citizen was above one another, they were all equal and had the same rights. It was then, I realized they all were snoring I was so deviled in the story I barely noticed, I didn’t even get to finish I was going to tell a battle of a dragon but these boys feel asleep. I kiss Jae-Young’s forehead then Dae-young’s for the second time tonight. My luck he did actually fall asleep, when I moved over to him. I picked him up with a huff and a scowl. He ends up doing this every time. I open the door and quietly close it behind the two of us. I take him to his room and set him on the bed and he reached and I pulled his stuffy that he wouldn’t admit to anyone but me, he still sleeps with it and needs it. I give it to him and I kiss his forehead after tucking him into the blankets. He curls up into a ball and starts sleeping. Man child, oh well. Least he isn’t that bad for one. I get to my room and start editing a story I tirelessly right. Even though I’m a professional writer doesn’t mean I have a schedule just when ever I feel creativity. I start throwing the story together my dead line for this story is really soon. And it seems like I have a pretty good plot so, I’ll just throw in a sprinkle of comedy a dash of conflict and a barrel full of monkeys. Cute thing is, everyone thinks I’m joking about that barrel full of monkeys, no that is the main story. Haven’t you ever wondered what happens a barrel full of monkeys, much more of a young adult read, then a child or an adult read. I finish chapter three in under an hour typing away, three chapters done. 27 to go tomorrow, I’m so not ready. Yes, I was talking about the deadline being tomorrow at 12:00 p.m. sharp. Woot woot, my hands are going to turn black and wish I wasn’t a writer. And yes, I luckily don’t have work tomorrow, that job at the cafe is about as good as this writing gig, not getting me anywhere least I found a place that will publish me. I fall asleep as comfortable as baby, even though I had that inner thought of how am I going to write that many chapters in so little time. Just like I always have and will done. Finish it with three minutes and seven seconds to spare. Submit and everyone gets off your case for another five months. Giving an idea or a pitch as they like to call it and throwing it at you and you figuring out what to write about. I wake up to see Donghyun in my face grinning and said, “I made you breakfast! I know you procrastinated and have a long a day a head of you, I got the kids under control today, leave it to me!” “Thank you so much, Donghyunnie! I’ll promise after I finish up the book we can have our all-nighter like we usually do.” “Really!?” “Yes, really! Now, go take your kids to school you rascal!” He laughs and places the tray of food on me, I eat the toast up rather quickly and start working on the book. I eat the bacon on the plate as I tediously finish up chapter seven, seems like plot a went out the door and plot j decided to take over all of the other plots and run this thing like a circus. Funny, right? Barrel full of monkeys a circus, okay my humor sucks. Give me credit here, I’m working on a young adult book. I hear the door open and close from downstairs, he’s home later than usual. I’m not going to question it like I usually would except for days like today, where I’m a little shit that procrastinates like no other and is typing a mile a minute. And oh my god Gerald did you really have to mess up your beautiful gorgeous face by slipping in the mud you ask, yes yes I did. It was necessary to the plot, actually no it wasn’t it was just filler as fuck. I hear someone knock on the door and I tell them to come in, not calmly at all I’m ranting throughout the whole book on monkeys and things that wouldn’t make since in a normal story but it does since it’s a barrel full of monkeys. I see Donghyun and he sits down in front of my feet and lays right there. No questions asked just lays there. And I roll my eyes as I finish up chapter nine. I start typing faster I want to finish this and an idea just came out of nowhere, and it’s looks really good so far. It’s 4:00 p.m. the time he has to go and bring home the kids, has he moved all day. No, did he want to move, no. They had a longer day at the kindergarden because they were doing an assembly today I remember being told that from a mother that was talking frantically to another mother. So instead of a half day, it’s a full day. By the time they got back I was on the last chapter. And instead of being really close to the deadline I actually had it done. When my computer crashes, let me just praise jesus for a minute when I realized I typed that on a google doc and everything was saved instantly. I got back on and I found it was still all there, I submitted it to the boss my publisher. I went downstairs and giddily made cookies for everyone. Knowing the affliction everyone has for my peanut butter cookies. (Sorry if your allergic but they are the bom.com)

About a week later the school system calls my phone I was added in case of emergencies. And they told me, “Your son, Dae-young got into a fight and your husband isn’t answering would you mind coming down here.” I didn’t want to break to them that I actually wasn’t the mother of the two or I wasn’t married to Donghyun actually that was a secret fantasy of mine that I couldn’t bare to bring alive to anyone. So when the accidently called me that I didn’t mind, quite the opposite I actually was fond of it. Till the actually weight of the situation laid on me. Dae-young the quiet yet brave, shy and sweet. Got into a fight I would believe it if it was Jae-young he and I tussle all the time. We rough house together like no tomorrow. But, Dae-dae. Are we talking about the same person? I don’t believe we are. I throw on my sweater and walk to the school, Donghyun didn’t live that far away. And when I get in Dae runs over and hugs me, I pick him up. And I ask the principal did he start the fight. And she says, “No, but he still is suspended, misconduct like this is appreciated, Mrs. Kim” “Actually for your information he was standing up for himself, this isn’t misconduct. If he was trying to make sure he didn’t the shit beaten out of him. Let me guess your prize student here was bullying Dae-dae. And he stood up for himself instead of taking it like he should. And you’re pissy about that?!” “MRS. KIM!” “At-at. I’m not someone you can yell at, I’m not a kid. Actually, if you remember correctly I’m older than you. I’m your unnie, and aren’t dongsaeng supposed to respect their elders.” “Mrs. Kim! You know I have fair right to speak about this issue!” “Oh is she mad because she used to bully me and then when I knocked her out into next week, on accident I assure you. Now when my kid gets into a schrmidge you’re upset because it’s exactly like your case. That bullies never win.” “You know that isn’t the point I’m making–” “He’ll take the suspension, good day, Mrs. Becaubachi.” (I came up with that at 10:25 I’m keeping it, oh well). And without another word I turn my heel slam the glass door and I’m out. I kiss Dae’s head and he starts pouring down crying and I get into the car and I start telling him, since he didn’t start the fight I don’t blame him. I never thought I’d see you’d get into a fight.“ And he tells me that he was so scared. And that he gave the kid a good black eye. So I decided to get ice cream to not honor that he beat the shit out of a kid, no never. Well, maybe. No to honor that he stood up for himself when he was getting pushed around and I’m so proud of him. We were sitting eating ice cream and he asks, “She was calling you Mrs. Kim. I thought your last name was, (L/n). Did you marry?” “No she was being an insolent fool.” “Appa has the same name is that what she was confusing it for?” “Yeah I would guess.” “Would you ever date, Appa?” “If you can keep a secret.” He nods his head and in that instant I forgot he is only six and will tell the instant it’s brought up. “I would love to, only if he liked me.” “What if, Appa did?” “Then I’d happily date your Appa.” “Would it be okay for me to call Omma?” “Full of questions as ever. You can, I don’t really care. My friends used to call me 'Appa’ all the time when we were younger, cause I’m the appa-like friend. They used to call your dad, 'Omma’ because he acts much more like a Eomma than an Appa. And it’s better if your Appa doesn’t know you go suspended. He wouldn’t like that very much.” “Really? That’s so cool. Were you the Appa/Omma team? And why would he care?” “Yes, we were the parent team. Because he doesn’t want the idea of his babies getting hurt in his mind. And he’d blow a gasket. Can you fake sick for me, the next two days. Does Jae know why you left?” “No. He was at recess.” “Don’t tell him, he’ll tell dad. As much as I love the kid he’s sort of a blabber mouth.” “I promise, Omma.” I grin, for the first time ever I was truly called Omma by someone I considered to be my own kid. I kiss his forehead and we sit on tailgate of my truck and I lean back and we start pointing out shapes of clouds.

It was about two months later, at conferences that Donghyun forced me to go because he didn’t want to be alone. And I told him I feel like I’m the one being scolded rather than our kids. When, they started talking about how they can’t believe how innocent little, Dae-young fought with a kid. That’s when Donghyun’s head nearly spun 180 degrees. I’ve gotten into pretty messy fights with him. But once his kids were put asleep. We went downstairs, like usual just to play video games. When I got down the stairs he closed the door and starts bitching about how I didn’t tell him about Dae-young being suspended 3 days. “Well, maybe I would have told you if I knew you wouldn’t act like this. You’d take it out on Dae-young. I could care less if you yell at me about it, but if you say one thing to Dae-young about it. I’ll have you on the floor with a broken nose faster than you can say, 'pudding’. And if I knew you would have accepted that he got suspended for self-defense I would have told you sooner. But I knew the minute it was brought up you’d act like this.” “Well how do you want me to act!? Act like it’s fine? That my son didn’t give another kid two black eyes over what?!?” “I’ll have you know, he was getting beat up, the kid acted on his own and he stood up for himself. Like I taught him, if someone throws a punch at you. You hit them twice as hard.” “What the fuck are you teaching my kids?!!! I thought we were on the same side, (Y/n)!” “What do you mean what am I teach your kids, I’m teaching them life lessons that you obviously won’t bestow upon them. I thought that too! You think you’re the only one this is affecting? If Dae-young were to hear you right now, you know he’d be crying because he knows he messed up. And it won’t make his appa proud. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because he really is afraid of fucking up, and you’ll leave. He knows what his mother did, so he doesn’t want you to do the same. He wants you to be proud of him. And if that meant me lying to you, my best friend. I would do anything to make sure that he wasn’t terrified of this.” “(Y/n)!!! You don’t get a word I’m saying do you?!? You don’t get that my son, MY SON, shouldn’t be getting involved in fights at all!” “Oh really? Look what your doing right now, I wonder where he would get the idea of fighting from, you. So you want YOUR SON that YOU OBVIOUSLY ONLY RAISED! To come home with a bloody nose, a broken arm, and a broken wrist because he didn’t stand up for himself?!” “That’s not what I’m saying” “Sure as hell sounds like it. And if you don’t remember, I ended up in a fight like he did. And I was the one with a bloody nose, a broken arm, and a broken wrist. The next time she fought with me I broke her jaw. Because I was tired of it, I’m glad YOUR SON stood up for himself instead of being like his father a damn coward. It seems like your proving to be. I thought I helped raised YOUR SON, it seems not. Good luck raising him and his twin by yourself, Donghyun. If you can’t be proud of your son, that he stood up for himself, then you can’t be my best friend, my love of my life.” I say without meaning to. I take my jacket, my purse, wallet, phone, a pair of shoes and sprint out of the place. I can’t believe this.

It was four days later when I heard a call I was living at my parents, I can’t believe after all these years I’d end up back here. I answer the phone not even caring who it was, “Hi, Omma this is Dae-Dae. I stole Appa’s phone quickly. I was wondering why you’re not here anymore, Jae-Jae and I miss your stories. Please come back home we miss you so much.” “Aw, Dae-Dae I miss you, tell Jae-Jae I miss him too. But until your Appa apologizes to me, and you. I’m not coming back, he doesn’t deserve me. You two do, but he doesn’t.” “Omma… Does that mean…. Does that mean your leaving forever?” “I sure hope not. I want to come back I really do. But I think your Appa wouldn’t be so kindly to my residency if I came back. So I’ll see you hopefully soon, continue to stand up for yourself, and be that brave little Dae I know. Okay, tell that to Jae too, okay?” “O-Okay… I’ll miss you every day.” “I’ll miss you too.” When I hear the line go dead I just go into the mountains of tissues and blankets and curl up and cry. I don’t want to be without the three. But it seems Donghyun doesn’t want me there anyways.

It’s a month later after those four days. When I go downstairs to eat dinner with my folks, I mean don’t get me wrong but this is just so hard being back here. After all this time of being away, living my life. Not to extent I want it to be, but I was fine with it. There’s a knock on the door then a ring of the bell. My Appa starts singing, “Somebody’s knocking on the door, somebody’s ringing the bell. Do me a favor and let 'em in.” I laugh and go open the door. I see the face I’ve been avoiding for a month, four days, ten hours, thirteen minutes, and eleven seconds. It’s Donghyun, with a tear-stricken face. He looks at me and says, “(Y/n)–” “Nope. I can’t do this.” I run off to my room delve into my sheets of comfort and go into a cocoon. I could have done that completely different. But when you miss someone to point of aching you can’t face them it hurts too much. I hear a soft knock on my door and it’s my Omma and she says, “Will you talk to, Donghyun. I know how much you are mad at him right now. But listen to him for a minute. And if it displeases you, I can send him out the door.” I growl through my pillow. I get up, and I slowly open the door and my Omma pulls me into a hug kisses my forehead and encouragingly moves me to the living room. I see a bouquet of (f/f), I shake my head. That won’t win me over if he thinks that. He looks down and then looks me dead in the eye as I sit as far as away as I can on the couch. And he says, “I know sorry isn’t enough. So–” “Let me stop you right there. You’re right apology isn’t enough. And as much respect as I have for my parents I hope the excuse these being as I’m an adult. It better be a damn good apology or you can walk out that fucking door, and don’t let the door hit you where mother nature split you, Donghyun.” I say with so much venom I could be a poisonous snake. “(Y/n), I wasn’t at all right for what I said to you. You helped raise my kids as much as I did. And sometimes more than I could ever. And for me to yell at you like you were an insolent child, that deserved to be scolded. Was wrong, I know. I’m so thankful for you to teach the twins self-defense. And when I found out that my kid was afraid this situation happening. And they both had separation anxiety to the nth degree. And at first I was so mad that I didn’t care about it, I didn’t realize how much I hurt you or them. That I was being a rotten father, that I was being a rotten person in general. And when I start thinking so hard about how much I missed you, how much I didn’t want to fight with you. That I realized how much I ruined my chances of ever asking you out to be my girlfriend.” “You got that right, you ruined that by a long shot.” “I figured, I’m not asking for you to move back in for me, even though it is a bonus. It’s just the twins miss you so much. And they will refuse to talk to me if I don’t bring you back, the made a blood pact and everything on a paper. Written by both of them. So please, will you please come back.” “So you don’t have to deal with a quiet life-style. Oh how miserable that would be. No offense appa and omma. But how do you think I felt the minute I walked out that door and moved back into my parent’s house. How awful I felt that I wasn’t up to your standards. That it was basically like living in a void with out two cheerful little ones to brighten up my day. I think you deserve to go back home by yourself just because of that.” “Please, I’m begging you, (Y/n)….” “You know if you would have given me an apology a lot sooner, I would have maybe accepted it, but I think you missed your time slot. Got to wait to punch in again, it won’t be for a while. So if you don’t mind me, I’ll be in my room.” I get up from the couch, and to make my point when I got up and into my room, I slam my door as loudly as possible. I wonder if I was too hard on him, as I slide down the door crying. I wonder how many calories you could lose from this, because it seems I’m a professional at this.

I go to sleep after a while and wake up go downstairs to have breakfast with my parents before Appa goes to work. I get downstairs to see Donghyun sitting at the dinner table, and I look at him with the hardest of glares abruptly set my food on the table with my coffee. Eat breakfast and drink the coffee, wish my appa a good at work and go back up to my room without hearing, “Go run after her, if you really do care for her, then do it.” There’s no point of locking the door, I know my parents to well. They would give him a key if they really needed too. Would it be acceptable to jump out this second story window? Maybe? I would be fine with it. I hear the door softly click open I scowl at the presence. And he sits next to me and I move away as far as I can away from him and he opens his mouth and tells me, “I know how much you hate me right now, but can you think of the twins, for one second?” “Would you think for a second that wasn’t the thing that was torturing me in the back of my mind. Not knowing, how it was happening, knowing how much separation anxiety Dae-Dae has, and I had to leave him? You know how much that tore me to absolute pieces? No you don’t.” “Actually I do. It tore me up to pieces because you weren’t there. I had no one to ask how to deal with this situation. How to help Dae-Dae cope with you gone, when I couldn’t even cope with you being gone. How much it hurt me that the love of my life left me, because of me.” “Wh-what?” I ask as my tears start flowing, he’s seen me cry many a time before. But this is a different case, it was because of him I still was trying to understand it. He gets down on his knees and says, “I would never beg for forgiveness from anyone else, but you. (Y/n), please if not for me, then for OUR kids, for little Jae-Jae and Dae-Dae. They miss you so much as do I, please come back home. I don’t think the three of us can be alone. I realized just how hard it is with out you there. How wrong of me it was when I got mad at you for teaching OUR kids something useful, and if you please, please just accept this apology. I’ll do anything. Except for leave without you, I need you in my life. More than you would ever realize, the kids need you so much as well. They miss you every day as much as I have, and guilt tripped me for the past month and now five days in the twelve hour and 50 seconds. I love you, so much. And this hurts so much to be without you for this long, it hurt the minute you left as bad as it does right now. It feels as though a piece of me is missing. Please, please-” “Stop right there. I accept your apology. You-You love me? Wait–Hold the line…. (LOVE ISN’T ALWAYS ON TIME– I’ll stop I get it, I’ll stop).” “Actually I was planning before you left asking you to marry me, figuring we could just skip the part where we were dating. Because we know each other so well… That we had friend dates that meant more to me than you would ever believe, I imagined each time even when I was with my ex. I realized how much I wanted you. How wrong I was for wanting you and picturing it was you every time we laid in bed together. How much I realized I was mistake, when she ended up with my kids. I lost all sight that you were even my ideal. I forgot you existed, and I saw her for the very first time. I cared for her so much. When she left me, I was so devastated because I finally moved on and she didn’t want me in the end. And then my inner self thought of you, and I was wallowing in my tears so sad without you. And when you came over, I wasn’t only crying that I’d have to care for them myself. I was crying because I thought I lost you. And this time I really lost you. When we started going on our best friend dates again I realized how much I truly loved you. How much they meant to me, I imaged myself each time before we ended the date I’d confess or move across from you and lean in and just kiss you. But no, I never did. And I wanted to so bad. And when you said you I was the love of you life it cut deeper, because I realized I wasn’t the only one that was at a loss here, when you left. I’m sorry, this is probably a lot.” “Wait… You were going to ask me to marry you?” I say in utter disbelief, this is the same guy right? “And you pictured me each time? Except for when she was carrying the twins? You wanted to kiss or confess each time to your feelings each time we had the best friend dates as much as I did? Wait you must be kidding me. And you’re right you weren’t the only one suffering from leaving. It hurt me so much not be able to call you up and ask what do I do, when I have a fight with you. How do I even approach the situation. I may be a writer but I could have never written our life out like this.” “Yeah… I know we just finally made up. But I can’t live a single day without you ever again. You’re my Earth, you’re my son, you’re my stars, you’re my Moon, I love everything about you. It might have taken me long to do this, not even what we proclaim liquid courage could help me gain enough courage to ask you this. So from the bottom depths of my deepest sorrows to the highest hope above my head. Would you do me the honors of being my one and only. My jagiya, my wife, my best friend, my pearl that is completely polished, to my oyster bed, still looking for a pearl to hold. Would you be that pearl?” He had shift the first start of that proclamation of love to his one knee. With a ring that was gorgeous in his hand held out to me. a pearl about the size of of a rock, just smoothed out with diamonds surrounding the ring, the ring silver. And I can’t believe just said that to me and I tell him, “Get up, come over here and kiss me will you.” He looks at me with a grin, he gets up, and slips the ring onto my finger. Wow, that’s actually heavy… Jeez. He kisses me affectionally his hands on my cheeks holding me there, as I encircle my arms around his waist. “I love you” I tell him once our first real kiss takes place. And he gives the biggest grin and he says, “Would you please come back home with me?” “I would never not” He grins and picks me up, and my parents were busy filming this, I had yet to realize that in the heat of the moment. They tell us to get out of here you crazy kids. And live happily and invite them to the wedding. If that is one of the first things they play on our dvd, it’s baby pictures. (I think you all are wondering when that prompt will come in, well get ready).

Its was 3 months after that we were happily married, the twins were high fiving that we finally got together. And then Jae-Jae started asking when he’d get a little sibling or three. He really want little siblings like no other kid in the world. I laughed as well as Donghyun. Dae-Dae was the ring barer, and Jae-Jae was the best man.

We had our first Christmas together, for the first time when the kids entered 1st grade. We were in amidst of arguing during that period of not being together. And if I had to say how much fun that was, it really freaking was.

If I’m being all honest, Donghyun and I still haven’t had sex. Not that I’m complaining we never get time with these two all the time, and we hardly getting a day off. Except for when snow storms hit. And it’s broadcasted that’ll happen the 2nd the day our kids are supposed to go to school. Jae-Jae and Dae-Dae already planned how they were going to spend it. They were gonna have us take them to the hill and they’d meet up with there friends. And its not like its a bad snow storm it’s just going to be enough to leave four feet of snow. Thank god I’m friends with the people in the neighborhood, Si-yeon is the watcher of all of our children. She never had any herself even though she wanted some. So when parents want a day off she takes care of them and has everyone’s number memorized, that moves her. And planned to make this snow day eventful for the kids. The kind sweet heart. Dae-Dae asks me to make sure he stayed awake through the new year. And I did so Jae-Jae fell asleep before 8 O'clock even hit. Dae-Dae stayed up through it surprisingly him and Jae-Jae usually have the same sleep clock. And he cheered like the little kid he is. And so did we, to join in on the fun. We kissed when the clock rang in the new year. And Dae-Dae cheered. He like I was, wasn’t the kid to be grossed out when someone kissed. Although, Jae-Jae is, oh he really truly is. He starts yelling about how icky it is. Dae-Dae falls asleep soon after, and I pick him up and Donghyun picks Jae-Jae up and we tuck them into there bed laying a kiss on there head and switching to do the same to the other. Donghyun picks me up and kisses my neck. “What’s a better way to celebrate the new year than with you?” “Um… With food and drinks?” He laughs at that and shakes his head. And it looks like a light bulb broke itself over his head and gave him an idea and he says, “I have an idea~” “What~” I ask as I close the door silently not to wake them. “You know how the twins are deep sleepers and we’ve tested this theory before right?” “Yeah, where are you going with this?” “I was think you and me, for a way to celebrate the coming of the new year, we could cum as well.” “You really had to make that joke?” “Yes, but you up to it?” “I don’t know Big Ben isn’t. He hasn’t rang in a while” He looks at me with a shake of his head, a thin lipped smile and says, “I guess I had that coming to me.” "Funny how you say that” He shakes his head again and I laugh. He picks me up by my thighs and pushes me against the window that was in our bedroom that we had made our way into. And he grinds into me, letting out a few muffled groans into my sweater. I let out a soft moan. I feel him pull at my leggings and I feel him rip them open. I gasp at the sensation, not expecting him to do that. And he rubs his rough fabric over my lacy underwear that I was wearing because I was to lazy to do the laundry this week. So I was on my last pairs of my panties, and oh my god do they have to be so thin. And that feels so good against my clit. That course feeling of jeans and I feel him move his hand yet again and he unzips and unbuttons his jeans, lets them fall to his ankles and kicks them off. He whispers in my ear, “I hate for this to be a quickie, but if I wait any longer without me buried inside of you…” “I understand and if you wait any longer I’m going to slap you.” He grins at me and I feel him rip my panties, he better be buying me new leggings and panties for that. As i gasp at the sensation of how cold the room was against my wet entrance as he slips two fingers into my entrance and he says, “Jagiya you’re already this wet for me?” “Yeah, you caused it you better fix it.” He smirks at me and take his fingers out of me and licks them off. And he slips into me and I let out a deep as does he into each other’s shoulders. He pulls my sweater off my one shoulder his face was buried in with his free hand, and starts kissing along my shoulder. And nibbles on a spot and starts sucking on the spot. I buck my hips against his, wanting and craving for him to move inside of me. He complies as he gives me a hickey and starts pounding me against the window. He moves us from the window and throws us on the bed and starts pounding into me like a mad man, and I’m letting out moans louder than I should, so I to muffle them, kiss him deeply, my legs wrapping around him tightly encouraging him to go deeper into me. And he goes all the way to the hilt, and I moan out loudly against his lips, that luckily muffled it. The twins are pretty deep sleepers but not to the point of where they don’t wake up at all. He breaks the kiss for a second to allow us to catch our breaths when he picks up his pace and starts slamming into my hips harder, if I don’t have bruises on my poor hips, I will be surprised. I feel my end coming, and before I can even reach my clit to get me off quicker he already moved his hand thumb to start rubbing over it. And I feel him twitch inside of me, I guess he was meeting his end as well. And I my walls clench around his cock and he kisses me and we both moan into the kiss, cuming at the same time. Surprisingly he rides out our high as my thighs spasm around him. He slowly pulls out and pulls me into him and kisses my forehead. And then he reminds me, “Snow day? You know that means another day for you and me.” I grin and say, “Definitely, but let’s rest for now, alright?” He nods and we fall asleep from our intercourse, and I couldn’t be happier. ((I was really content on how this ended, I hope you guys throughly enjoyed this as much as I did) I think this may have been longer than Chanyeol’s).

[lolcat76]

Folie a Deux pt 9

Thanks to @okaynextcrisis for the prompt, @cassiopeiasara for the best writing advice ever, and @thisisamadhouse for the suggestion that they watch an old video. 

If you need a refresher on where we left off, it’s here. And my apologies, but the sneak peek is buried somewhere in the middle. I added to it on either side. Needed some more flavor :)

The door was ajar when Laura arrived at Bill’s apartment, Grace in tow. She figured that was as good an invitation to make themselves at home as any, so she let them in and settled Grace on the couch with her homework before following the scent of toasting bread and basil into the kitchen. Sure enough, Bill was standing in front of the stove with a spatula in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup? You spoil me,” she said with a smile.  

“Trying to,” he agreed. Bill handed her the spoon and asked her to taste the soup. She blew on it, then sucked it through her teeth. Not quite as good as her grandmother’s, but better by far than Campbell’s.

“Needs more salt.”

He waved at the spices lined up on his counter, and she eased around him to grab the salt and garlic powder for a little extra kick, trying hard to push back the memories of nights they’d fought over pasta or chicken, more pepper or salt, and whose turn it was to do the dishes.

His kitchen was small, but definitely bigger than the tiny excuse for a kitchen they’d shared in their studio apartment. She had room enough to step away from him as she stirred the pot, but she stayed close enough to lean her shoulder against his while she fiddled with the burner. Close enough that she could whisper that she liked her bread toasted, not burned, and feel his breath, warm against her ear, as he chuckled in response.

Close enough to know she was asking for trouble the longer she stood there. She dropped the spoon into the pot and took a few steps back, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “I hope to God that’s not Kraft singles.”

“Muenster and cheddar. If you think I’d feed you Kraft singles, you don’t know me at all.”

She did know him. Not as well as she used to, but well enough, and that was the problem.

***

The easy peace in the kitchen was shattered the minute she and Bill brought plates, bowls and silverware to the living room. Grace was on the verge of a temper tantrum when Laura shoved a plate in front of her. Carbs and cheese? Her niece was horrified. Better she choke down gruel and weak broth than processed flour and saturated fats. “I’m not eating this,” Grace said, sounding every inch the petulant teenager. “Aunt Laura, you can’t want me to eat this. There are no vegetables!” Suddenly, Laura regretted demanding that Grace finish her biology homework before dinner.

“What do you call tomato soup?” Laura replied.

“Tomatoes are a fruit, not a vegetable. Everyone knows that.”

She opened her mouth to argue with her niece, but Bill cut her off.

“My house, my rules. You eat what’s in front of you, or you don’t get fed.”

Grace looked a little too pleased at the thought of skipping a meal for Laura’s taste.

“And if you don’t eat, you don’t dance.”

“That’s not fair!” Grace whined. “We’re not in the studio now.”

“Yeah, well, life isn’t fair. And when you’re in charge, you can figure out a way to fix that. Until then, you do what I say and you eat your damn sandwich.”

He’s changed. As Grace picked at her dinner, Laura studied her former partner. He’d always been loud and outspoken, but this new Bill - this Bill that was perfectly happy being in charge - he was a far cry from the egotistical partner she’d fought with all those years ago. She’d been forced into being in charge by circumstance and desperation, but Bill stepped into it without a second thought. Or without second guessing, she mused. She wheedled and begged and plotted to earn Grace’s cooperation - Bill demanded it without ceding an inch in return.

“If she’s not eating, I won’t either,” Grace muttered, bringing Laura’s attention back to her own plate.

“She eats. And she’s an adult, so she gets to make her own decisions.”

An adult. Ha. Still, she couldn’t argue with the fact that having Bill around, she’d started making a lot more decisions lately. Some good, some bad, but decisions nonetheless. All of which had led them to this moment in his apartment with a sullen teenager, a stubborn Bill, and a Laura with a full plate and a suddenly grumbling stomach. She picked up her sandwich and took a bite, pulling at melted strings of cheese and looping them over her finger before she sucked them into her mouth. Grilled muenster and cheddar, almost as good as the diner two blocks away from the Met where they’d celebrated the end of the run of every show. Grace could starve, but Laura had every intention of enjoying her sandwich.

They argued for a few minutes about clean-up, but Laura was firm. He cooked, she cleaned. Bill eventually backed down, mumbling that he wanted to show Grace something anyway. Truthfully, she could use a little bit of quiet with a mindless task - she was more than a little worried about Grace’s eating habits these days. She welcomed the few minutes it took to scrub off the charred remains of cheese and crusty soup - it gave her time to clear her head. Laura was always better when she had a task to focus on, and dishes were as good a task as any. By the time she had the dishwasher loaded to her satisfaction, the living room had gone quiet, the lights were out, and she could hear the angry strains of Prokofiev over the hum of the dishwasher.

Laura dried her hands on her jeans and threw the dish towel on the counter. Time to face the music, as it were. The lights were out, and Grace and Bill were sitting on opposite sides of his couch - one sullen teenager and one stubborn middle-aged man - both staring at the tv screen. She settled between the two of them, pulling Grace against her, and then turned her attention to what they were watching.

A much younger Laura Roslin flitted across the stage, ducking through set pieces as she searched for her Romeo. Laura drew in a sharp breath. God, was she ever that young?

Romeo stepped out of the shadows and extended his hand to his Juliet, and Laura couldn’t help but steal a glance at the man sitting next to her. Was he ever that young?

She wanted to stop the DVD, to stuff Grace’s books back into her bag and take them both home where it was safe and where she was nothing but a thirty-something yoga teacher. She wanted to escape, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen where Romeo was pleading silently for Juliet to love him. Juliet ran from him, then ran to him, innocence and passion and longing in a pas de deux that had been rehashed for decades before she and Bill had stepped into the roles. She’d seen the greats perform Romeo and Juliet, both onstage and on film, but she couldn’t deny that what she was watching made her long for the two of them to finally…finally…get it right and live happily ever after.

Juliet was her crowning glory at ABT, the role that had won her praise from critics and gotten her a promotion to principal dancer. At the time, she’d never thought much of the role, too busy critiquing every misstep in her performance to even think that maybe the critics had been right. Her Juliet was good. A slight stutter in a pas de couru was nothing compared to the raw emotion she saw on the stage, so she willed her mind to just shut up already and enjoyed watching the girl onscreen throw herself into her Romeo’s arms and kiss him as if her life depended on it.

I know the feeling, she admitted silently to her younger self.

***

“You were really good,” Grace said as they drove through the streets of Philadelphia.

“I hope so. They don’t usually promote you to principal dancer if you’re just ok.”

“No,” Grace insisted, “you were really good. Like, I remember seeing you in the Nutcracker and I’ve seen you dance around the house, but that…Aunt Laura, that was really good.”

The New York Times review was a lot more eloquent, but Laura would take that compliment any day. “Thanks, sweetie. But why on earth were you watching that?”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “Mr. Adama said that he wanted me to see what a real dancer looks like after she eats half a pizza.”

She wasn’t sure what to address first, the Mr. Adama or the pizza. Leave it to Bill to bend the facts to suit his purpose. “That’s what a real dancer looked like before she ate half a pizza. If I tried to do that variation after eating that much, I’d have made myself sick.” Mindful of Grace’s recent eating habits, she continued “But, every night after we wrapped, we’d all go out for a midnight meal. And when it was my turn to pick, I always chose pizza, and I always ordered my own and refused to share.”

“I bet Bill hated that,” Grace said, the hint of a sly smile in her voice.

Oh, so he was Bill again. “He did. But he didn’t touch my pizza because he valued his life, and because he knew I could only eat half, and he’d get the rest eventually.”

“Like your crusts.”

She grinned, picturing Bill in his kitchen, picking at the crusts he’d so carefully cut off their sandwiches long after they’d left his apartment. “Like my crusts.”

“It’s so romantic,” Grace sighed, and Laura couldn’t stop her eyebrow from shooting up as she cast a glance over to the passenger seat. “I mean Romeo and Juliet. True love. They’d rather die than be apart.”

Nothing romantic about a suicide pact, she remembered Bill saying all those years ago.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she said lightly. “True love doesn’t mean much if you’re too dead to enjoy it.”

Or too scared, she reminded herself. Grace didn’t answer, just continued looking out the car window at the safe, comfortable streets of their neighborhood. Not much risk of Mr. and Mrs. Reilly next door committing suicide to stay together. Far more likely that she’d hit him in the head with a rolling pin to get him to shut up about overwatering plants.

True love wasn’t about the grand gestures, she thought. it was about not killing the person you lived with, day in and day out, no matter how richly they deserved it. Or being grateful that they remembered that you didn’t like olives and cut the crusts off your sandwiches just to make you smile.

Grace was still such a baby, and maybe she needed to believe in the idea that true love, a terrible, destructive love that ended in death, was better than nothing. Having had eight years of nothing, Laura wasn’t in any hurry to destroy Grace’s dreams.

Given the choice, though, she’d take a man cooking her a crustless grilled cheese with muenster and cheddar and a cup of tomato soup over a teenager with a vial of poison anyday.

***

They slipped into something of a routine in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, and it happened so easily she didn’t even notice it until she realized that she’d been at his apartment for dinner twice that week and was making plans for him to join them the following night. Barring late rehearsals or Grace’s school schedule, they ate together almost every night. He came to her classes at least twice a week, and she called Billy to schedule him to teach the 10am class so that she could put on her pointe shoes and let Bill torture her in company class on Mondays and Fridays. (Tory’s good will toward Bill had burned off quickly, and she had informed Laura in no uncertain words that she was NOT there to pick up the slack so that Laura could playact at being a ballerina again.) (Tory was about two steps away from being booted out on her ass from the yoga studio; the only thing saving her job was that she was the only one who could manage to make the books balance at the end of the month.)

She was sitting on his kitchen counter, stunned into silence at the realization that she spent almost more time with Bill these days than she did with Grace. He kept talking as he loaded the dishwasher, not noticing the wide-eyed shock on her face as she realized that Bill was fast becoming a permanent fixture in her life. Again.  

“So, next week is Thanksgiving and we have a lighter load before we go into tech at the stage. I was going to head up to New York, but Carolanne is taking the boys to her parents’ house in Ohio. I was thinking maybe we’d take a drive, explore some of Pennsylvania or maybe go down to Baltimore for the day and see the aquarium.”

Her silence finally registered with him, and he slammed the door of the dishwasher before he turned the full weight of his blue eyes on her. “Unless you have better ideas. Or a better plan.”

“Like what, the zoo?”

He shrugged. “The zoo, eating leftovers in front of the TV, or a date.”

She snorted before she could help herself. “A date. That’s funny.”

Bill leveled her with a stare that told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t joking. “When was the last time you were on a date?”

“August of last year,” she replied without thinking. Better to not think at all about that night, and that man, and how eager she was to get away from him. “The guy who owns the building where I have my yoga studio asked me out a few times. I think Richard hoped that he could get me to agree to a lousy lease if he bought me dinner and paid me a few compliments.”

“Rookie mistake,” Bill said. He wrung out the sponge, trying to pretend that he was worried more about his cleaning supplies than he was about her answer.

“When was the last time you were on a date?” Laura asked, desperate to steer the conversation away from her love life. She didn’t want to know the answer, but she really didn’t want to keep talking about herself and her spectacular failures in the dating arena. He’d been married, even if it was to Carolanne, so he surely had a leg up on her in the romance department.

She hated to think about the legs he had on him the last eight years or so. He surely had enough recent experience to forget her legs wrapped around his waist. Her thighs twitched, muscle memory wanting to pull him close, but she wasn’t going down that path again. His muscles had memories too, and they sure as hell didn’t involve her, if his two sons were any indication.

“Depends on who you ask,” he answered, and it took her a second to remember just what she’d asked. Dating, right. She’d asked him about dating. He looked at her, again turning the full weight of his blue eyes on her. She was asking, and he was telling, and she was terrified of what he would say, because she knew without him saying a word that her legs and their kitchen played a large part in his answer.

He kept his distance, but a step to the left and he’d be settled against her, the way he used to be when they shared cooking duties. Bill kept eyeing the space she took up on his kitchen counter, and she had no doubt that to him, tonight was a date. She was wearing yoga pants and an old, beat up Eagles t-shirt, and he thought that they were on a date. One step, on hand on her thigh, and he’d move right past dating and into familiar, if ancient, territory.

Years ago, it had been threadbare tights and a beat-up sweater thrown on the kitchen floor, and the two of them gasping for breath after they’d stumbled to the hideous futon she’d hated from the first day she walked into his apartment.

At least she’d dressed up for Richard. She might be out of practice, but she knew that a date meant makeup and a dress and not hitching up yoga pants and arguing about crumbs on the counter at the end of the night.

“Good thing I’m not asking,” she muttered.

“Good thing. So, Baltimore? See some sharks, feed some fish? Or we could just stay here. Up to you.”

“Bill, what are we doing?” The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Well, I’m loading the dishwasher. You’re overthinking things.” He flicked the knob on the dishwasher,and she flinched when the machine purred to life.

She furrowed her brow. Was she overthinking things, or not thinking enough? She was sitting on his kitchen counter, and for the life of her, she had no idea how she’d made the decision to come here tonight, or last night, or how she’d invited him to her house two nights before.

She liked to plan things. She liked to know the outcome before she set a course of action. She was careful, dammit, and here she was, alone in the kitchen with the most dangerous man she’d ever known while her niece read a chapter of biology in the next room.

“I don’t overthink things.” He didn’t dignify her retort with a reply, just a grunt as he dried his hands on the dishtowel “I don’t. I think about everything the exact right amount.”

“Ok, then,” he said. He slapped the towel down on the counter. “What are you thinking?”

“I think we should go on a date.”

What the hell? She was thinking about traffic to Baltimore and crowds at the Inner Harbor. She most definitely was not thinking about a date, so why the hell had she said it?

His eyebrows shot up. Clearly she wasn’t the only person in the kitchen surprised by what came out of her mouth. Whatever he was expecting her to say, he sure hadn’t expected that. Makes two of us, she mused.

“Okay…I’m not going to disagree, but where did that come from?”

Laura shrugged, helpless to take the words back and even more incapable of explaining herself.

“A date,” he repeated, more to himself than to her. “Well, we didn’t exactly date before, but,” he grinned at her, “I’m game if you are.”

Oh, God. She buried her face in her hands.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven. Nobody cooks dinner, and no teenagers. We’ll see if this date thing is a good idea. Unless you overthink yourself out of it?”

There was a better than good chance that she’d do exactly that, but she couldn’t take it back now. He’d never forgive her if she backed out. She might not forgive herself either.

“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Do you want to go to Baltimore or not?”

“I want to go to Baltimore,” Grace yelled from the living room. Oh, God. She’d heard that? And everything else? Laura silently prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

Bill wrapped his hands around her wrists and tugged her arms away from his face. “Dinner tomorrow and Baltimore this weekend.”

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“Funny way of showing it, Roslin.” He pulled one of her hands to him and brushed a quick kiss to her knuckles. “Now, go home. I have a class to teach in the morning, and you have a date to overthink.”

They were halfway home before Grace said anything. For the first ten minutes, Laura tried to convince herself that Grace hadn’t been listening, but as soon as she opened her mouth, Laura knew she was completely screwed.

“Sooo…you have a date tomorrow.”

Laura pressed her lips together. “We are not going to discuss it.”

“You’re going on a date with my teacher, and you think we’re not going to discuss it?”

Laura took her eyes off the road long enough to raise her eyebrow at her niece. “We are not going to discuss it. Some things are none of your business.”

“Well, yeah, but if he’s a bad kisser and you don’t want to see him again, and he takes it out on me, don’t you think that’s my business?”

First of all, no she did not. Second, she remembered only too well that Bill Adama was a good kisser. Good at other things, as she recalled, before she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Third, she was going to have to have a long talk with Grace about kissing and…those other things, and she didn’t think it was possible to miss another person as much as she missed her sister right now. “You don’t need to worry about that,” she muttered.

“Of course not, because you worry enough for both of us.”

What was this, Dump On Laura Day? Bill was rubbing off a little too much on her niece for Laura’s peace of mind. “I don’t worry. I merely consider.”

“Yeah,” Grace said, sarcasm heavy in her voice. “You’re considering how to get out of going out with him tomorrow.”

She eased her foot on the brake, coming to a smooth stop at the last stoplight before she turned onto their street. “What I am considering is throwing you out of this car right now and letting you walk home.”

It was an empty threat, of course, and one she’d repeated countless times over the eight years she’d been Grace’s guardian. Maybe a little more serious this time; a walk in the chilly November night might do wonders for reminding Grace just who paid the heat bills in their house, and it would give her at least a good ten minutes to freak out in peace without a teenage audience.

Grace flexed her feet against the dashboard. “These toes are too valuable for mere walking.” At her aunt’s sharp glare, she tucked her feet under her, shifting in the seat so that she could give Laura her full attention. “But seriously,” she asked. “A date?”

A date. She hummed in response. The last thing she wanted was to discuss her love life with her teenage niece, but she was reminded of late-night phone calls to Cheryl when she’d talked about just that, going on and on about how much of an asshole her partner was, and Cheryl crowing that she liked him, and was he cute, and how did he fill out his tights, and Laura was in her twenties again and blushing furiously by the time she pulled into the garage.

“Lights out in an hour,” she said, “and I know you’re not done with your homework, so scoot.”

Grace lifted her hand to her brow in a mock salute before she gathered her bag from the floorboard. “Yes, ma’am.” She was through the door and into the house before Laura bothered to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Shit,” Laura whispered. She banged her head softly against the steering wheel. “Shit, shit, shit.”

[sunshinemiranda]

After Hours - Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary: Based on the prompt: “I have a key to the theatre, and sometimes I go there when I need to think. Apparently so do you.”

Words: 5,296 (ren and i are just...yeah)

Warnings: Swearing. 

A/N: From Ren (@alexanderhamllton) - Guys, it happened!!! Here’s my first collab with Liv, which I’m so so excited about, we wrote the whole thing in one afternoon and I couldn’t be more proud of the result. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do <3

From Liv - I am still dizzy from how much I enjoyed writing this. I finally had the honour of collaborating with Ren (aka real human sunshine) and it was so much more than I could have ever hoped for. Honestly, it is amazing. Happy reading!

askbox | masterlist

There is something very beautiful about a theatre without an audience. It is filled to the brim with potential, all these seats just waiting to be filled, an empty stage that could become an entirely different universe. The lights are dimmed down, and from inside a deserted Richard Rodgers, it is as if the entire world has stopped spinning.

You didn’t recognize the set anymore. Romeo and Juliet had faded to reveal two new love interests: Eliza and Alexander, their names synonymous with the Broadway musical. From the show you were a part of to the hit-show Hamilton that took over your old workplace, you only recognized the empty seats, so familiar to you even though you never had to step on stage; it took many promises of not touching a thing to your friend Jonah, who worked with the security of the place, to let you in.

Crew members are ghosts, who aren’t able to have an excuse to be on stage during the show’s run, but they are beyond useful. They are the backbone of the art the audience sees. You stood in the middle of the stage, looking out at the wide expanse of space, filling the air with your thoughts. In a room like this, your ideas and dreams had room to stretch and grow, lifting their waif-like limbs. Silence fell heavy, and remained unbroken. Slowly, your eyes closed and surrendered to a feeling of infinite peace.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

You whipped around with a very loud, “Holy fuck,” and found that someone else seemed to spend their time in deserted theatres too.

“Who are you?” His voice was careful and intimidating, a combination rare to your ears, especially when you visited the theatre.

“Who are you?” It didn’t even cross your mind that you weren’t in a place to ask that question.

“I asked first.” He quipped, the shadow of a smile starting to tilt at his mouth.

“I asked second!” You hurried, then closed your eyes with a visible cringe. This was going horribly. “Sorry. You just sort of freaked me out with the whole, Phantom of the Opera style sneak-up.”

“I can respect someone that makes a Phantom reference,” he replied with a smile. “I’m Lin.”

“[Y/N],” you replied, crossing your arms. Why you were so defensive was beyond you, especially because the guy didn’t seem threatening at all. “I was a crew member on Romeo and Juliet, if that helps to explain my presence,” you took the small key from your pocket, shaking it so he’d know you were telling the truth. “I still have a key. Coming here kind of calms me down, sorry for intruding.”

He chuckled, looking past you at the rows of seats. “God, I can relate to that. I love coming here after hours. It’s like the calm after a storm. The water is still.”

An unexpected smile came to your face and you nodded, letting your crossed arms fall. “Yes! Exactly.”

“But seriously. You can’t be here.”

“Oh.” Your brow furrowed. “Right, sorry about that. I’ll show myself out.”

“You didn’t let me finish. You can’t be here. Let’s not let anyone find out.” He grinned, reaching his hand out for you to shake. It was an offer for what seemed like an adventure. “Deal?”

“Deal,” you replied, shaking his hand. “So… Lin. What brings you to the theatre after midnight?”

“I would really like to know your excuse first. I mean, this is my play.”

“I asked first,” you joked, making him chuckle.

“The pressure. The show is everywhere, and I’m proud of it, I really am, but it can be overwhelming. People expect too much, you know?”

“Not really. Romeo and Juliet didn’t do very well,” you smiled, walking towards the front of the stage before sitting there, your legs dangling over the edge. “But I do see your show everywhere, so I can only imagine the pressure.”

“Wasn’t this version the one with Orlando Bloom?” Lin asked, before sitting down next to you.

“Yep, turns out fame doesn’t compensate the lack of theatrical talent.”

“Ooh, harsh!” He pulled a hand to his chest as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “That’s Legolas you’re insulting, right there.”

“I’m not scared of an elf who never runs out of arrows.” You grinned.

He laughed, and it struck you that it was a good one. It came right from his chest, full-breathed, as it sort of took over his body. In the low lights, the shadows only allowed you to see aspects of his face. From what you could decipher, he was far prettier than any Romeo Montague could have been. With the echoing of both your laughs dissipating into acoustics bouncing off the walls, a silence fell that was more comfortable than you thought it would be. It struck you that Lin was a natural with people.

“Being on this stage makes me want to belt some Shakespeare,” you laughed, and he raised a mischievous eyebrow before standing, reaching out to pull you up with him.

“Now that’s something I want to see.” Lin grinned, ignoring your protests and hurried off stage to sit in the audience.

“Hey!” Blushing with embarrassment now, you squinted to search for him in the seats. “There’s a reason why I was in the crew and not cast, you know.”

“I’m waiting, Ms. [Y/N],” his voice called. It made a smile grow on your face.

“Before I start, I wanna say that you asked for this!” You warned him, before clearing your throat. “Should I go for Romeo and Juliet, or is that too cliché?”

“Whatever you like, I’m just the audience!” He shouted.

A pause settled into the theatre, and you closed your eyes, focusing on yourself. Every night, through working backstage, you would always take the time to admire one monologue. It was your favourite.

“Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; for thou wilt lie upon the wings of night whiter than new snow on a raven's back.” You stepped forward, unable to see him in the audience, but ultimately alert to his presence. “Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow’d night, give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun.”

There was a long moment of silence, filled with electrifying tension, before he made his presence visible by standing and delivering the most enthusiastic standing ovation you had ever seen in your life.

“Okay, tell me again why you were in the crew and not on stage starring in the thing?” He laughed, running to the edge of the stage before climbing to meet you there. “That was amazing, you knew every line!”

“Thank you, I- I really liked that monologue, it was one of the few things I genuinely enjoyed about this gig, besides the place.” You looked around, remembering the many nights where the theatre was empty, without a set, without any props backstage, and you had total freedom to just wander around discovering all the little quirks it had to offer. “Have you guys found the secret room yet?”

“Secret room? I don’t think anyone’s found that yet,” he answered with a smile. “Do you know where it is?”

“I do, but it’s a secret after all,” you smiled, Lin shooting you a look.

“C’mon, you can’t just tell me there’s a secret room and not show me where it is, that’s just plain torture!” He argued dramatically, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

“Fine! Are you ready to climb some stairs?”

“Not at all.”

His answer made you laugh, and before you knew it, the two of you were taking the stairs backstage before heading down a small corridor, the ceiling so low you had to crouch before you had the space again. It was a small room, filled with old cables and mechanic gear, and on the opposite wall, a window. It didn’t open and you never figured out if it was because it was broken or sealed somehow, but it gave you a view of the stage no other room in that whole theatre would.

“It’s not that big of a deal, but it’s a fun place to watch rehearsals, you can see the wings and the stage at the same time,” you explained.

He stared, wordless, out the window, eyes widening as he took in the sight. You would see the entire Richard Rodgers kingdom from this point. His silence started to make you nervous.

“Legends say this was the old tech room before they got moved up there,” you pointed. “That’s why you can see everything.”

“[Y/N],” he murmured, turning toward you with wide eyes. The way he said your name sent a thrill down your spine. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” your voice was almost a whisper.

You came back one night a week after that. And so, it seems, did Lin.  The two of you explored every nook and cranny of the theatre, and after-hours exploration became the day of the week you looked forward to the most. It became a silent pact that every Wednesday would be the night to meet up and engage in all kinds of shenanigans: you felt like a teenager again, sneaking around with a guy you just met in the middle of the night.

“Okay, Avenue Q or Book of Mormon?”

“Hands down Book of Mormon. Avenue Q is great, though. I just have a soft spot for Andrew Rannells.” You grinned, reaching into the bag of yogurt covered pretzels sitting on the stage between the two of you.

“She likes Andrew Rannells. A girl after my own heart!” He pulled a Southern Belle swoon, fainting back onto the stage as you laughed. 

“And you got to have him in your show too, lucky thing, ugh, I hate you.”

He reached over and snatched the pretzel you were holding inches from your mouth, grinning as he bit into it. “You would never.”

“Try me, Miranda. Wait, Singin’ in the Rain, or Sound of Music?”

In complete unison, the two of you announced, “Singin’ in the Rain.”

“I’m so whipped for Gene Kelly.” You sighed.

“You and me both.”

You lay down beside him, staring at the rafters in the ceiling, realizing that in doing so, you had closed the space by a considerable distance. He was close enough for you to reach out and trace the contours of his face, run your fingertips over his cheekbones and tap your index against his nose. Of course, you didn’t. But the thought was there anyway.

“Turn around, bright eyes…”

The quiet of the theatre was perforated by his voice ringing out softly, and you grinned. Stepping, as quietly as possible, closer and closer, you made your way to the orchestra pit where he was sitting at the piano, accompanying himself.

“Every now and then, I fall apart!” your voice startled him, but he knew that song like the back of his hand.

“And I need you now tonight,” your voices blended together while you both sang between smiles, Lin looking at you in adoration as you raised your eyebrows, surprised with the fact he didn’t even flinch before starting a duet with you. He played the notes without taking his eyes off you, and while a few weeks ago this would have intimidated you, now you wouldn’t trade that for the world.

“There’s nothing I can do, total eclipse of the heart...” you both finished the song together, the last notes he played floating around you before the silence.

“[Y/N].”

“Lin.”

“You didn’t tell me you could sing. That was beautiful.”

“It was beautiful because you were carrying it with your voice and the piano. Don’t get ahead of yourself now.”

“Hey, have I ever lied to you?” He grinned standing and taking your hand to tug you closer. “Here. I’ll show you the piano arrangement so you can carry it on the piano and your voice. Just like me.”

He placed his hands over yours to play the chords and melody with you, but you couldn’t spend a second of that time concentrating. He was so close, and smelled like cologne and the wood on the stage. The warmth of his hands was sending your head into a reeling mess.

“You’re not concentrating, are you?” He grinned.

You shook your head, looking down and hiding a smile when a strand of hair fell from the back of your ear. Lin’s hand slowly moved to put it back in place, and you couldn’t help but turn to face him, his lips now inches away  from yours. Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his lips, for a split second before you came back to your senses, biting your lip. He was so close, it wouldn’t take much to just move an inch and kiss him senseless, in a way you had wanted to for a while now.

“Mr. Miranda, have- oh, I’m so- I’m sorry.” Jonah opened the door abruptly, making you and Lin jump apart like scalded cats. A blush worsened the colour already on your cheeks, and Lin refused to look you in the eye.

“It’s okay, Jonah, what happened?” Lin replied, running his fingers through his hair while calming himself down.

“Just letting you know I’m leaving earlier tonight, I changed shifts with Marco and I thought it’d be better to let you know...” Jonah replied, scratching his head, his cheeks flushed.

“We’ll leave soon, Jonah. Thanks.” The security guard nodded before taking a weird bow before leaving, making the both of you giggle. Lin turned to you, a sheepish smile on his face. “I guess we’re not staying for long tonight.”

“From experience, I can say Marco is not the friendliest person I know,” you commented, now incapable of looking Lin in the eyes without blushing.

“Finally, someone says it! We better get out of here before he finds out we’re intruding.” He laughed, trying his best to smooth over the awkward moment.

Outside the theatre, the two of you said quiet goodbyes accompanied with shy smiles, and by the time you got home, your head was reeling with that same dizziness. God, you had it bad.

Lin was alone on the next Wednesday. She’s probably just late, caught up with some extra work, he thought, but the feeling of dread stuck in his stomach through the two hours he sat at the Richard Rodgers and pretended he had “work to do”.

He couldn’t help but absently wonder if it was his fault that you weren’t there. Maybe the “Almost Kiss Incident” had scared you away. The worst part of that realization was the fact that he might not have a chance with someone he’d fallen head over heels for. It made an endless feeling of inadequacy settle into his stomach, leaving him restless and messy.

Later that night, he asked Jonah if you had left a message, a sign, anything. But you didn’t. He didn’t have your number, or an address, but Lin also felt it wasn’t his place to ask you about you not showing up that night. It was technically a silent agreement, no strings attached, but he didn’t feel that way about it. He never felt that way about it. He only hoped that you didn’t either.

He started coming there on the nights that weren’t the “schedule” for you guys. He would try Mondays, Thursdays, Sundays, any time that you might be there just in case you had mixed up the dates or couldn’t make it on Wednesdays anymore. But he didn’t see you. Jonah noticed how Lin started to come more often and decided to step up, as your friend.

“Mr. Miranda?” his voice echoed in the empty theatre, where Lin was reading a book, pretending he wasn’t using it to waste time while waiting for you.

“Yes, Jonah?” he replied, without taking his eyes from the book.

“She’s not coming tonight.” The statement made him look, a mix of concern and disappointment on his face. “She usually doesn’t come that often. She started coming every week because of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jonah,” he said, faking a smile.

“Sir, with all due respect… Before you, she would only come here maybe once a month, sometimes not even that. Her family doesn’t live here, in New York.” The security guard’s words made Lin realize how abnormal the whole situation was: you were both strangers until you met that one night, the random encounters turned into scheduled nights and that, in his head, was not the reason why he liked that theatre in the first place. Lin nodded, closing the book before saying goodnight to Jonah, leaving the building by the back door.

The next night Lin showed up after-hours was a Thursday, not a Wednesday. He didn’t have a show that night or any hope of finding you there anymore. This time around he actually needed the silence. When he got to the theatre, Jonah hurried towards him the moment he entered.

“She left a note last night,” he announced, holding a grin.

“She came here?” Lin couldn’t hold his disbelief, that quickly turned into a smile.

“Yes, sir. Asked for you and everything. Told her to leave a note in your dressing room but you didn’t show up today.”

“Ironic. It’s the first time in months I take a break on a day that’s not Saturday, and this happens,” he joked, before patting Jonah in the shoulder, heading inside the now empty theatre. “Thanks man.”

When he got to his dressing room, he immediately noticed the note, written on the back of one of those ads people hand out in vain on the streets, taped to the mirror.

Lin,

I’m sorry I didn’t come the past few weeks. I had an emergency with my parents and had to leave right away, didn’t know how to contact you. I’m back now, as you can see. I hope you haven’t forgotten about me yet. See you next week?

Whipped for Gene Kelly,

[Y/N]

PS: Here’s my phone number, can’t believe you didn’t have that already!

He smiled, grabbing his phone to save your number in his contacts within moments. There was no way he was going to go another two weeks without talking to you. He needed that. You didn’t hate him! Lin laughed to himself before folding the note and putting between one of the notebooks he kept around.

To: [Y/N]

From: Lin

See you next week.

Lin’s sleep schedule was fucked. Honestly, he had started sleeping till 1 on the weekends, falling asleep at 4 (on an early night), and all because of two things: he spent all his time waiting for his best girl at the Richard Rodgers, and without the after midnight talks that calmed him, it was too difficult to fall asleep. Without [Y/N], there seemed to be no organization in his life. When she appeared in the doorway, like an angel come to lift him from the groggy mess that was his life recently, he rubbed at his eyes, disbelieving and wondering if his lack of sleep had started to make him delusional.

“You look like crap, Miranda.”

It was the best thing he’d heard all month. Without a second thought, he hurried off the stage and surged toward you, pulling you into an unexpected hug that was long overdue. You stumbled a bit, at the sudden weight of his grasp but, with a laugh (and a blush), you were wrapping your arms around his waist and revelling in his warmth.

“I missed you, [Y/N].” He murmured into your hair, the strength of his hold telling you that he wasn’t planning to let go any time soon.

“And I missed you.” You replied, a bit of hurt tugging at your heart while you said this. He had no idea how you really felt.

He moved away, letting his hands slide down to take hold of both your hands instead. “Come on. We’ve got catching up to do.”

He led you up to the stage, the regular spot at the edge of the stage just waiting for the two of you. As you sat down, he twisted sideways, and before you could question his strange methods, his head nestled into your lap and he actually sighed, as if he had been waiting for this physical contact, this moment. Your heart fluttered.

“So, any special reason why you look this tired?” You asked, slowly combing his hair with your fingers.

He hummed, eyes closed as he took the moment to find repose. When he spoke, his voice was soft and mumble-y. “Mhm. Was waitin’ for you.”

Thank God he was turned away from you, because a flaming blush spread across your cheeks like wildfire. Did he have any idea how beautiful he looked, half asleep, with his head in your lap? It was altogether unfair, and your heart tugged again, the way it always did when he was around.

“Lin…” You breathed. “You need sleep, you dork. What the hell were you thinking?”

“That you hated me, or something.” He murmured. “I came here so many times, [Y/N]. So many times. And you weren’t here. I know some of the things I do are disappointing, but I couldn’t deal with the fact that I might just lose you. So I had to fight for it. I guess losing sleep is my way of doing that.”

“Stupid, stupid, thing.” You scolded, your heart starting to beat a thousand times faster at his words. “You aren’t disappointing, Lin.”

He smiled, choosing not to reply as you felt his breaths even out. Looking down, you brushed a hand over his cheek, curling over his body to see his face. 

“Lin? Are you-are you asleep?” You held back a chuckle that might jostle him and wake the sleepy figure once he nodded. Instead, you just kept on carding through his hair, looking down and endlessly staring at him, admiring, thinking over and over again about how much you adored this dork.

“You are so bright, Jesus, I’m sure you could power these stage lights for ten years.” The statement came from somewhere you had stashed away all your thoughts about Lin, including your feelings. It wouldn’t hurt to say them while he couldn’t hear, right? “I admire you so much, you have no idea. Don’t let yourself think you are inadequate, or useless, or just not worth it. Because you aren’t. You are the leader of this successful show, you have created so many things that have taken the world by storm. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t met you here.”

A small smile had crept up on his lips as he tried his best to keep the sleeping facade in place. Unbeknownst to you, he had been listening, and all his hopes about a future with you became possible. He quickly pushed the smile from its place to listen to your words again. You didn’t notice.

The next day, Lin looked like a Puerto Rican ball of energy backstage. The whole cast and crew noticed he was on a roll, and Tommy hated to be the one to contact him about the bad news.

“Lin?” Tommy knocked on the doorframe of Lin’s dressing room before entering, revealing a half-dressed Lin being mic’d. “We have a problem.”

“Jasmine’s dress suffered a small… accident. No one knows for sure, she swears she didn’t trip, but the fabric of the Maria skirt was ripped in the back, really badly. Like all the way up to the bodice.” Lin’s eyes widened as he took in Tommy’s words: today was the day off for the wardrobe crew. One of them was available for emergencies, but added to this, there wasn’t enough time.

“D-Don’t worry, I know someone.” Lin waited a few seconds until they finished mic’ing him up and got to his phone, searching for your number in the contact list.

“[Y/N]?” His voice was rushed, but Lin was not the energetic type of nervous, he was methodical, and you recognized his tone right away.

“Everything okay?” You asked immediately, his tone setting off alarm bells in your head.

“Can you come to the theatre, like, right now? We had an incident with Jasmine’s dress and-”

“I’m leaving work right now, I’ll be there in ten, okay?” You quickened your pace, dodging people in the street, making your way to the Richard Rodgers.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he replied, relief taking over his voice.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you joked, hanging up the phone as you broke out into an almost-sprint.

By the time you got the theatre, Lin had already left a pass for you to come in, making it easier for you to rush your way to the dressing rooms. You ignored the looks from the cast that you only heard stories about and knocked on Lin’s dressing room door. When he opened, he was in all his Alexander Hamilton glory.

“Hey, Mr. Hamilton,” you smiled, trying without success to hide that you were the human version of the heart eyes emoji and it was getting embarrassing fast.

“Thank God you’re here!” His greeting was interrupted by the speakers announcing there was two minutes to places, and he rushed with you to the girls’ dressing room. “Jas, this is [Y/N], she’ll fix your dress, just… Show her the way, okay?”

“So you’re Lin’s guardian angel!” She greeted you. You didn’t have time to blush and simper at that but oh, how you did. A red colour spread across your nose bridge and you didn’t notice that Lin didn’t look any better. Stuttering, he hurried out of the room. Jasmine took the red dress from the rack. It looked bad.

“Jesus,” you murmured, staring at the tear that ranged from the hem of the skirt, all the way to the ties on the back.

“I know.” Jasmine sighed, sheepish.

“Okay. We can’t let these stitches be seen, so we’re going to do this inside out. You have red thread, right? Give me some time with the needle. I promise you, I’ll get it done.”

She handed you the sewing kit for emergencies and thanked you as many times as she could before someone called her to places, leaving you alone with your task. You took a deep breath before getting into work. The songs went by as you sewed the dress calmly, being careful to not let anything to visible. She’d need a whole new skirt later, but that would have to do it for now. When you finally finished, ‘History Has It’s Eyes on You’ was almost over. Reaching over to hang the dress in its place, you admired the work you managed to do in such short notice.

Jasmine rushed into the room, still wearing her yellow dress, squealing when she saw the red skirt fixed. “You are amazing!”

“It’s no big deal, just be careful with it. You’ll need to ask wardrobe for a new skirt later, okay?”

“Paul will kill me,” she laughed, her nerves mixed with relief. You helped her get dressed, being extra careful with the fabric this time. Once she was in her red costume, Lin knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Jas called, and he peeked in, closing the door behind him before looking up to see the repairs you’d made. He froze, speechless and not able to believe his eyes.

“She really is a guardian angel,” Jas grinned, breezing past him with a wink that you missed.

An awkward silence filled the room and you made yourself busy with fidgeting at the hem of the sleeves on your shirt.

“So how’s the show go-” You attempted.

“I love you.”

If there was any air in that room, you couldn’t tell. Your jaw dropped (quite unflatteringly) and you were about to answer when someone rushed into the dressing room.

“Lin, Lac has a few things to talk to you during intermission, if you could come real quick...”

“Uh, I-sure, yeah,” he replied, his eyes shifting from the stagehand to you. “I’ll be right back. Or after the end of the show, please-please stay until the end of the show?”

You nodded before Lin got literally pulled from the dressing room, his eyes never straying from yours. That left you alone once again. You took a deep breath, processing the words he just threw at you moments before he exited. It was too good to be true, right? It wasn’t possible. Nothing like this happened in real life. This was the ending of some sap’s favourite rom-com, not your life. Too many thoughts weighed too heavy on your mind, so you surrendered to distraction, deciding to watch the rest of the show from your secret room.

The view was even more extraordinary than you remembered. The lights looked different from up there, the performances looked more sharp and you noticed the patterns on the dance moves as the second act came on. Tears rolled down your face as you watched the last moments of the show, and you missed the final bows as you made your way downstairs once again. It was just when the cast was returning to their dressing rooms, still fully dressed in period costumes, that you found Lin. He met you halfway up the last flight of stairs, the steps levelling the two of you out just enough for him to look right into your eyes.

“Secret room?” He asked, his voice slightly above a whisper.

“Yep,” you replied, popping the ‘p’ and making him chuckle. “Listen, Lin, I just-”

Within seconds, he surged forward, hands cupping your jaw as he pressed his lips to yours, soft, forgiving, and altogether the sweetest moment you had ever witnessed. You reached up to brush your fingers over his cheek as he pulled away, searching your face to see if his decision had been a mistake. After seeing only soft eyes that looked adoringly back, a slow grin spread across his face.

“Thank you,” he whispered, letting his forehead rest against yours. His eyes closed momentarily.

“It was just a ripped costume.”

“No, I mean for everything. For always believing in me, for being the reason I fall asleep happy at night, for making me feel adequate. You are everything I need, [Y/N].”

His declarations resulted in a bright red blush and as screams and applause from his castmates surrounded you, you noticed (for the first time), that the both of you were in the middle of the after-show rush. You giggled, hiding your face on the crook of Lin’s neck as he turned around with a smile that could light up New York city.

He led you down the staircase, hand tucked into yours and still clad a Hamilton costume. The smile he kept giving you, he looks he didn’t have to sneak anymore, all of it had made your heart feel lighter than air. This was possible. It didn’t always happen, but some people were lucky enough to experience that.

“Lin.”

“Mhm?”

“That time on the stage, when you fell asleep in my lap. You were awake, weren’t you?”

He turned to you, eyes bright with mischief as he shrugged shamelessly. “I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes, bumping his hip with yours. “I hate you.”

“I love you.”

You tried to fight it. You really did.

“Dammit, I love you too.”

“Oh thank God,” he grinned. “Otherwise I don’t know what I would have done.”