#the last part is a joke but like ive got the same shoes she has in the gif and pink hair too

[duhragonball]

JoJolion Ch.7-11

I checked, but I don't think Daiya is talking about "Roundabout" in this scene. Anyway, this is the "California King Bed" arc.

I don't want to spend too much time on the part where Josuke meets the Higashikata family, because they'll each get some time in the spotlight soon enough, starting with Daiya. This car ride to their mansion pretty much sets the tone, though. Norisuke Higashikata IV is the head of the household, and he acts like a vapid asshole some of the time, only to drop his facade now and then to reveal a quieter, darker side of himself.

Here, he asks Josuke whether he likes stuffed animals better than robot toys, and tries to psychoanalyze him based on his pick, which is the sort of thing a bullshit personality quiz on the internet would do. He takes his shoes off when he rides in the car, and apparently Josuke does the same, so he tries to bond over that. Yasuho takes her shoes off in solidarity, but no one seems to notice.

Also, he keeps trying to take pictures while he's driving, so he just comes across like a total clown.

But once they get home and the introductions are made, Norisuke takes him aside and sets some ground rules for Josuke's residence here. First, he has to look after his daughter Daiya, who is legally blind. I don't think she's completely blind, but her vision is pretty far gone by this point. Second, he tells Josuke never to go to the upstairs room. He doesn't even want him on the staircase, for that matter.

There's something kind of sinister about the whole thing, and the way he tells Josuke that "what I say goes". And this sets the tone for the whole family. Hato is some kind of fashion model, and pretty vain about it. Joshuu's a belligerent incel fool. Jobin ditches the family altogether before Norisuke can take a family picture with Josuke in it. The photo is a fiasco in itself, because Joshuu gets upset about having to cede the center of the picture to Josuke, and then Josuke wants Yasuho to be in the photo so she won't feel left out, and then Norisuke calls off the whole thing when he realizes Jobin's left.

Also, when Yasuho leaves the property to go home, their maid, Kyo Nijimura, passes along a message from Norisuke, warning Yasuho to never darken their door again. He doesn't want her tempting Joshuu with her feminine wiles, and he threatens consequences for her family if she tries to contact Josuke. Yasuho doesn't know what to make of this.

The joke's on Norisuke, though, because Yasuho's family is in pretty bleak shape anyway. She returns home to find her mother passed out drunk with a hickey, and she leaves the house in shame. She doesn't know where to go or what to do, and then she finds she got a letter back from a private lab that does DNA testing.

When they found Kira's corpse in the last arc, Yasuho didn't trust the police to investigate his connection with Josuke, so Yasuho took DNA swabs from both of them. I'm kind of impressed that she not only thought to do this, but collected the samples on the fly. Anyway, she sent them off to a lab for analysis, and report says that both samples are from the same person. This makes no sense, but as Yasuho gets how her phone to complain to the lab, she notices the photo she took of Kira's body, and the symbol on his right wrist. She remembers having seen it in her childhood, when she and Jobin used to play at the Higashikata house.

And Josuke has made the same connection, as he spotted the same symbol on the handrail of the Forbidden Staircase.

But Josuke has to deal with Daiya Higashikata first. So she's a music lover, with a particular fondness for prog bands like Yes. She claims to like Queen, but I know she's a fake Queen fan because she doesn't know the words to "Bicycle Race". But it gets worse.

So Daiya contradicts her father's instructions and tells Josuke not to make a fuss over her. In fact, she warns him against acting unnaturally, or getting worked up about her at all. To prove her point, she tries to pour herself tea, and Josuke sees she's not even over the cups, so he moves them into position. But this was a test to see if he was listening. Daiya knew where the cups were, but Josuke's overreaction triggers what she calls "a land mine". In fact, this activates her Stand, California King Bed.

Now, I'm not quite clear on how it works, but the upshot is that California King Bed plucks out a memory from the victim and turns it into a chess piece that Daiya can collect and "experience" for herself. It's sort of like Whitesnake from JoJo Part 6, but not exactly.

However, it seems like part of the Stand's power involves creating the illusion of a grotesque wound on Daiya's leg. Like, you can see bone in there, that's how bad it looks. Josuke thinks it's a burn, which is ridiculous. I think the idea is that the illusion wound is supposed to stimulate feelings of guilt and worry over Daiya, which facilitates the memory extraction. The thing is, she uses this power on Josuke three times, but the wound illusion only happens once.

Anyway, the first memory she takes is the symbol Josuke noticed. This upsets him, because he considered it an important clue to solving the mystery of his identity, but now he can't remember what it was or why he thought it was important.

Daiya explains her power to him in the interests of fairness, so I guess this is like a game to her. She says she fell into the "faults" where the Wall Eyes rose up. Soon after that, her vision got worse, but she developed her power, which she calls a "Stand". This seems to confirm that the Wall Eyes, or at least the fault line they emerged from, are somehow responsible for these characters getting Stands. I think the common theme is that you fall into or onto one of them. Josuke had that bite mark on him when Yasuho found him, and then Joshu pushed Yasuho to the ground in chapter 1, and then Josuke knocked him out soon after that, and they both developed the same bite marks. Now we see Daiya probably experienced the same thing when she was 2 or 3 years old.

I guess her blindness is just part of the Stand's ability? Either that or she suffered some injury that damaged her vision when she fell.

The important point is that she plans to steal Josuke's memories one by one, so he basically has to do exactly as she bids, or she'll make him forget everything else but his duty to her. Also she wants to seduce him, so that's a thing.

She does tell him that her Stand has one weakness. If she steps on his shadow, the effect is canceled and the stolen memories return to him. So Josuke tries to trick her by turning off the light in her walk-in closet, which will allow the bedroom light to cast his shadow into the closet where she's standing. His own Stand, Soft and Wet, is useful for silencing the sound of the light switch, but it doesn't work. Somehow, Daiya figures it out. Maybe she can hear the faint electrical hum in the light bulbs. As she confirms this, Josuke realizes he's in deep shit, so he tries to call Yasuho on Daiya's cell phone to get help. But it's too late, Daiya catches him on the light switch, and she removes another memory, this time of Yasuho herself.

From here, Daiya tries to seduce Josuke, and it almost works, but he's sure that there was something important he had to do, so he's not quite putty in her hands just yet. Meanwhile, Norisuke sees them in bed through her open door (!), and he's furious at first. Then he decides that he's cool with it, because this means Daiya will completely enslave him, which suits his plans.

Daiya tries to go on a bike ride with Josuke, and they meet Yasuho on their way out. Daiya can't see her, and Josuke no longer recognizes her, which Yasuho finds suspicious. Okay, here's my beef. She says she wants to sing "Bicycle Race" with him while they ride, but she wants to do the part where he says "I like my bicycle better than Star Wars".

Those are not the words, dammit. They weren't the words in 1978, when Queen released the album "Jazz". They weren't the words in 2011, when this story is set, and they weren't the words in 2017, the last time I complained about this. It goes:

You say black, I say white You say bark, I say bite You say shark, I say hey man Jaws was never my scene And I don't like Star Wars

Get it right, Daiya.

Anyway, Josuke makes another attempt to get her to step in his shadow. He uses Soft and Wet to throw his voice so it sounds like he's behind her telling her which way to steer the bike, when in fact he's hanging from a tree, I guess hoping she'll bike over his shadow? It doesn't work because she can't feel him holding on behind her. So she takes a third memory, this time of Soft and Wet. Josuke still has his Stand, but now he doesn't remember that he has one or how to use it. Ouch.

Daiya thinks she's won, since Josuke has no way to protect himself from her ability, but there's just one more loose end. Her phone rings, and it's coming from the refrigerator. Seems Josuke hid the phone in there earlier while she wasn't looking.

So Daiya orders Josuke to get it for her and close the door. She plans to answer the phone, and if it's Yasuho calling him back from before, then she intends to destroy his captured memories, deleting them permanently. Josuke can only follow instructions, but...

He left a soap bubble active when he hid the phone earlier. Yeah, he doesn't remember Soft and Wet now, but he did when he set this up. That bubble imitated the sound of him closing the fridge door, and so Daiya didn't notice that the fridges light was still casting Josuke's shadow near her feet. Check and mate.

Josuke gets all his memories back and takes the call. He thanks Yasuho for calling him back and says he'll call her in a minute. As for Daiya, she concedes defeat and asks Josuke if he loves her, and he's like "No, your kind of a creep, but you're honest at least." He says he'll like her better if she lets him have her phone from now on, and if she agrees not to tell anyone about him going into the room on the second floor. Then he gives Daiya a little of the ol' Josuke Sugar on the cheek to seal the deal. Daiya never had a chance.

This works out well for Josuke, because Norisuke thinks that Daiya is controlling him, when it's actually the other way around. The next morning he goes to the... I guess only bathroom in this entire mansion? He has a shave in front of Joshuu and Hato. He shaves his face like he's some sort of deranged maniac, but his Soft and Wet powers make it work. The side-effect is that all of the stubble on his face gets transferred to Joshuu and Hato. Oops.

Finally, Josuke and Daiya go into the upstairs room, which is a study full of old books. The symbol is that of a publisher, and it matches a book written by Norisuke Higashita I, the patriarch of the Higashikata Family. The book is a chronicle of the Steel Ball Run race from 1890-91. This was a transcontinental race held in the United States, and Norisuke I got second prize. He returned to Japan soon afterward and invested the money in the fruit importing business, which then led to the rise of the Higashikata Family's prosperity in the 21st Century.

The book also contains a family tree, and Josuke notices that Yoshikage Kira's name is on it. Turns out Norisuke I had a daughter, Rina, who married an American named Johnny Joestar, and Kira was their great-great grandson. So that gives Josuke a clue about the connection between the Higashikatas and Kira. He looks up other names on the Joestar wing of the family tree, but the only one he can track down is Kira's mother, Holly Joestar Kira, an ophthalmologist. So now he's going to see if he can find her and see what she knows.

You know, it's funny. I haven't kept up with Part 9, but I do know that some other names have been added to this family tree. Jodio and Dragona Joestar, and maybe their parents, are still out there, although they probably wouldn't know anything about Kira or any of this business. Also, they're in Hawaii or whatever, and that's probably what Josuke means here when he says his searches show that he won't find the rest of Kira's family. It's not that Holly is the only one left, but she's the only one that he can track down in Morioh.

And that's pretty much it as far as Daiya is concerned. I think there was a time when JoJolion first started, when Daiya was viewed as a much more central character to this story. This was probably because she was the second enemy Josuke had to defeat, and the first one he converted over to his side. And people probably liked her design. But after this arc, she really doesn't have much to do in the rest of the story. I mean, maybe I'm forgetting a scene, but I remember being pretty surprised that she never did anything after this. Oh well.

[boycannibal]

i owe my life to the yae miko “dont care didnt ask” gif like everytime i send it to someone i think that i shouldnt care and did not ask and also im a cute pink haired girlie just like yae miko

[nyctophilin]

Fake Affection | III

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mild groping, mild violence

Pearl note -> This got long. Yeah, things got interesting in this part. :)) Also, I realized I forgot to add something so I had to come back last minute and edit it. Yeah, sorry for the delay. :/ I hope y’all enjoy it! Feedback is very much appreciated.

      The sun was shining brightly despite it being almost 6 PM. The temperature outside reached unusually high numbers for that time of the year, and Y/N decided to take advantage of that. Dressed in a forest green spring dress that reached her mid-thighs and offered a modest view of her cleavage, she was waiting for Jisung in front of her apartment complex. The dress she was wearing had short sleeves, but she decided not to take any jackets with her thanks to the weather forecast that predicted the temperatures to be high until later in the night.

      She was clutching the strap of her purse tightly and impatiently checking the time on her phone every few minutes. It has been such a long time since she went on a date. Just because she was going there to make Mina jealous didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun. What better way to convince the other girl that she missed on a lot of fun than have fun?

      Coming from the left side, she heard the sound of an engine approaching. Soon, a black Range Rover came to a gradual stop right in front of her, the front wheel almost climbing the sidewalk. From inside the car, Jisung gestured her to get in. She opened the door and climbed in, placing her purse over her knees before fastening her seatbelt.

      Without much of a word, Jisung turned the steering wheel and started driving to a destination unknown to Y/N.

      “I didn’t know you had a car.” She spoke, trying to get rid of the awkward atmosphere.

      Jisung threw her a look before concentrating on the road again.

      “It’s Chan’s. He let me borrow it for today.” A long sigh left his mouth. “After a long talk where he told me that if I hurt his baby, I’m dead.”

      Y/N let out a chuckle, and Jisung smiled as well, as the memory of the silly conversation he had with the older man flooded his mind. Another minute passed, and the silence in the car was being filled by the pop music coming from the radio.

      “You look pretty!” Jisung complimented, stealing another glance at her.

      A bright smile invaded her facial features at his words. 

      “Thank you! I didn’t know where we were going, but I figured a dress would be appropriate for many activities.” She chirped, the tiniest bit of excitement rolling off her tongue.

      “What if we are going hiking?” Jisung said, and a smirk appeared on his face when he noticed her rolling her eyes from the corner of his eye.

      “Then you can turn the car. I’m not coming!” Y/N crossed her hands under her chest and her mouth formed into a small pout.

      “I’m joking. We are going to an outdoor cinema.”

      She gave him a side look and raised an eyebrow.

      “No offence, but how do you know when outdoor cinemas are happening? They don’t seem…” She eyes him up and down on the driver’s seat. “...your style.”

      Jisung resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her comment. After a moment of silence, he sighed silently accepting her words.

      “Mina told me about it three weeks ago. She said it was a rom-com she really wanted to see. We planned to go together.” He explained taking a right turn.

      “Then how do you know if she’s going to come if you planned to go together. I don’t know if you realised, but you are supposed to be dating me, and she’s dating no one. Girls don’t usually go to this kind of thing without a boyfriend or a potential one.”

      “There’s this guy from Theatre and Film that she used to hook up with when I wasn’t around. I know from someone that they are coming together.” 

      Y/N let a pitiful smile involuntarily invade her features. It was kind of pathetic how he knew about her whereabouts and still didn’t say anything. She understood that they weren’t together, but they were heavily flirting and behaving like a couple, hence why she and a lot of other people thought they were actually in a relationship.

      She let her teeth sink in the flesh of her bottom lip holding back from telling him a piece of her mind. He was old enough. He knew what he was doing. Or at least she hoped he did.

      The rest of the way to the outdoor cinema was spent in silence. The only audible sounds being the radio and Jisung’s soft humming from time to time. When they reached, their destination Y/N got out of the car and let Jisung find a parking spot somewhere further away from the location of the cinema due to the parking there overflowing with vehicles.

      Checking her phone, she noticed the time indicating 7:17 PM, and only then she realised how much time they spent in the car. Walking lazily on the pathway to where space was designated for blankets and chairs she saw a sea of people. Maybe not really a sea but there were enough people to fill two of the auditorium in their university.

      For a second she thought she'd lay out the blanket, but then she remembered the only thing she had on her was her purse. On top of that, they needed to ‘accidentally’ bump into Mina and her date and hope they end up sitting next to each other.

      Just as she was thinking about that a squeal deafened her and a pair of delicate arms wrapped around her. When the girl let go of her, and she met Mina’s face, she grimaced, but she regained her composure fast. She smiled at her and her date, a guy she had seen occasionally in some of her classes.

      “What a coincidence you are here!” Mina’s fake excitement was pissing her off. Coincidence her ass. Y/N was sure she knew they were going to be there.

      “Yeah, what a small world.” She gave the two a visibly fake smile and prayed for Jisung to hurry.

      “Are you alone?” The girl asked, moving her head in different directions as if she was looking for the person she came with.

      “No. I actually came with Jisung.” As if on cue Jisung appeared from behind the two, a blanket in hand.

      “Are you looking for me, princess?” A jolt of surprise went through her at the new nickname he used, but she didn’t let it show.

      Observing the angry expression on Mina’s face at his words, she figured that was how he used to call her before they broke up whatever they had going on. She surpassed a smirk from painting her lips.

      “Mhhm.” She extended her hand, which he gladly held and went in for a short kiss. “Look who I found. Isn’t it lovely seeing your friends here?” She sarcastically said, smiling up at him.

      “You guys should come sit with us!” Mina’s date said, and a victorious smile spread across her face.

      “We’ll love to if that is okay with Mina, of course. We wouldn’t wanna disrupt you!” Y/N faked concern and gave Mina doe eyes.

      Mina’s jaw slightly clenched before immediately relaxing and letting out a forced giggle.

      “Of course you can. Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

      After that, the four of them went and found a place at the back of the crowd where they could sit. It wasn’t exactly the back of the crowd since there were some more people behind them, but they were reasonably behind. 

      Jisung spread the blanket on the fluffy grass, and Mina’s date, whose name she found out was Jay, did the same as Jisung. Their blankets were almost touching, the distance between them millimetric. 

      There were still 20 minutes before the movie was supposed to start. They sat down on the blankets, and Y/N stretched her legs, finally relaxing for not having to stand on the platform shoes she was wearing.

      “So, are you guys dating or…” Jay asked, fixing his body position so he could see them better.

      Y/N rolled her eyes at his question. The guy wasn’t the best at reading the room.

      “Of course we are. Why would we be here together if we weren’t?” Annoyance was dripping off her tongue. She only wanted to relax for a bit before having to spend two hours watching some boring rom-com.

      “Oh…” His voice sounded almost disappointed as his gaze lingered a second too long on her exposed legs. “Mina and I are not a couple. And since she and Jisung have had a thing before, I thought...” He bit his bottom lip while looking at her thighs that were pretty much bare thanks to her dress riding up when she sat down. “Never mind!” 

      Y/N shifted uncomfortably and placed her hands on her thighs in an attempt to cover them even a little. Mina wasn’t aware of her date’s actions as her eyes were concentrated on Jisung and on the way he looked under the golden rays of the sun that was preparing to set.

      Jisung, however, was burning holes with his eyes into the other man’s head. Upon seeing him biting his lip while looking at Y/N in a less than appropriate way, he felt an unexplainable feeling of rage penetrate his body. What he wanted to do at that moment was to get up and punch that pig into next week for daring to look at her like that. But he kept his composure and decided not to make a big deal out of it. 

      There was literally no reason for him to get that angry. Besides the apparent reason that it made her uncomfortable and he shouldn’t allow something like that, especially when he is playing her boyfriend. But the sudden feeling to rip his head off filled him with turmoil.

      Jisung decided to ignore it for now, and he took his jacket off and placed it over her legs. Her head shot in his direction, confusion and at the same time relief present in her eyes.

      “What is that?” She asked, trying to act unaffected by Jay’s actions.

      “I just thought you might sit more comfortably with this over your legs. It stops unwanted attention.” He subtly glared at Jay, but he didn’t seem to pay him any mind as his eyes were now fixed on Mina’s chest.

      “Thank you!” She said, bringing the jacket further up to cover her thighs better.

      Jisung inched just a little bit closer to her and cupped her face. Placing his lips on hers, he forcefully pushed his tongue in her mouth, taking her by surprise. He made sure their heads were positioned in such a way that the two on the blanket next to them will be able to see the exchange of their mouths. 

      Mina was watching Jisung drag his tongue inside Y/N’s mouth, his eyes closed in satisfaction. The exchange wasn’t rushed, and the way his thumb would caress her cheek so gently had her bursting with jealousy. Jisung had never kissed her like that. Their kisses were always rushed and sloppy, driven by sexual needs.

      When she first heard about their little relationship, she laughed. She thought it was some kind of stupid joke. But then she saw how they behaved. The kisses, the hugs, the hand holding, how he would always have a hand around her shoulders. In the three days, they dated he showed Y/N more love than he showed her in a year and a half.

      Her initial plan was to tease him a little bit, then finally accept to be his girlfriend. She didn’t think he'd go and find himself a girlfriend. And especially not her. From all the people he could choose it had to be her. Looking at them now, Mina regretted her decision.

      Jisung broke the kiss and looked into her fluttering eyes before placing a peck on her nose. Y/N was sitting there dizzy from everything that happened. His sudden boldness left her speechless and burning hot from the embarrassment of being seen doing something like that.

      She wanted to question him. Ask him why he suddenly did something like that. However, a loud sound erupted from the speakers surrounding them, signaling the start of the movie. So she focused her vision on the big cloth in front of her and decided to ignore it.

      She shivered discreetly as a wave of cold hit her body. The movie was only half done, and with the midnight approaching slowly, a chilly air adorned their surroundings. The weather forecast predicted high temperatures, but at that moment she was far away from her city, and so the weather was different.

      Y/N rubbed one of her arms with her hand, regretting not taking a jacket with her just in case something like that was to happen. From the corner of his eye, Jisung noticed her actions, and he leaned in close to her to whisper in her ear.

      “Hey, are you ok?” His hot breath on her ear made the hair at the back of her neck stand up.

      “Yeah, I’m just a little bit cold. I’ll be fine!” She whispered back giving him reassuring eyes.

      Jisung thought for a second of what he could do. He didn’t have another jacket, and he didn’t want her to uncover her legs. At least not when Jay was around. An idea finally struck him, and he softly called her name, catching her attention again.

      When she turned to look at him, he tapped the space between his spread legs. Y/N raised an eyebrow at his gesture.

      “What does that mean?” She sounded a little bit annoyed.

      “Come sit here. I’ll cuddle you so you won’t be cold anymore.” Y/N threw him a weirded out look. “We are ‘dating’. No one will find it weird. Or you could just stay there and freeze to death.” The man explained his voice a little bit louder than before.

      She pondered his offer for a bit before getting up and making her way between his legs. She let herself fall backwards until her back hit his chest softly. Jisung put his arms around her, and warmth started enveloping her almost instantly. Y/N let out a purr at the newfound comfort, and her eyes shot open at the realisation of what she just did.

      “Hey, don’t get too comfortable, you hear me? I’m doing this just because Mina might be watching.” She warned, her voice stern hoping he missed her last action.

      Jisung rolled his eyes but decided not to bring up the sound she just let out. For now, he just wanted to enjoy the newfound proximity. Only so they can make Mina jealous. Right?

      They sat like that, none of them daring to move. For some reason, Jisung found the position really comfortable. A few days prior at the start of their relationship he found skinship really awkward but now it wasn’t like that anymore. It felt almost natural. Like they have been doing it for a long time.

      Some more time passed, but Jisung wasn’t sure how much. The movie was approaching its climax, and the man felt bored out of his mind. Was it really worth going through that only to get his dick wet? But then he remembered who he was doing it for. He was doing it so he and Mina, the girl who he has been in love with for the longest time, could finally be together. And when it happens, he will be able to slide his hand through her silky hair, and feel her smooth skin and kiss her soft lips without having to call it a friendly gesture.

      His trail of thoughts was interrupted by a quiet mumbling coming from Y/N. Her voice was so small that Jisung couldn’t hear her.

      “What?” He leaned his head down in order to hear her when she talks.

      For a minute, there was silence. Thinking that she didn’t hear him, Jisung wanted to repeat the question when a puff of air left her mouth. Right after, she turned slightly to the side, pushing her head more against his chest, and that is when he realised that she fell asleep.

      An involuntary smile tugged at his lips, and his heart started beating faster. He couldn’t explain why he was so happy about it. It was going to be a pain in the ass. Having to wake her up and wait for her to recover from her dazed form. They were going to be the last ones to leave after the movie was over.

      A whistle-like noise left Y/N’s nose when she expired the cold air of the night, and his smile turned into a grin. Jisung moved a few strands of hair from her face before wrapping his hands better around her to keep her warm. He placed a kiss on top of her head and rested his chin on her head, swaying slightly while continuing to watch the movie.

      If you were to ask Mina what has happened so far in the movie, she couldn’t give you an answer. As much as she wanted to see the film, the girl’s eyes seemed to be more interested in whatever was happening on the blanket on her left. 

      She watched as they were cuddling and whispering to each other things she couldn’t hear. Then Y/N fell asleep, and Jisung seemed to be even more loving, hugging her even tighter and kissing her. She was wondering if he has ever done that to her on the many nights they shared a bed.

      Mina never thought she would be that affected by the fact that Jisung has found himself a girlfriend. After all, he was just one of the many boys she was hooking up with. She never thought she would have feelings for him, but here she was, being jealous of the last person she ever thought she would.

      She had to somehow get the boy back. She wanted to see it as a challenge, but she couldn’t. It had barely been two weeks since they ‘broke up’ and scarcely four days since he started dating that perfect little missy. Love doesn’t fade away that fast. She’ll have him back in no time.

      Y/N felt someone shaking her arm gently, and she mumbled some incoherent words, pushing the hand away. She was sleeping so well, she didn’t want to wake up. A hand pushed a hair strand that was ticking her nose out of the way before grabbing her shoulder and shaking it again. She groaned in annoyance.

      “Wake up, Y/N! You have to go home. Unless you want me to take you to my place.” Someone whispered close to her face, and her eyes fluttered open, trying to make up her surroundings.

      The first thing she saw when she finally managed to blink the sleep away was Jisung’s smirking face. God, he was so annoying. Ignoring him and looking around, she noticed she was in his parked car in front of her apartment complex. She vaguely remembered falling asleep, but she doesn’t remember waking up to get to the car.

      “How did I get here? Did you wake me up?” Y/N asked, straightening her body and inhaling the cold air of the night.

      Jisung held her hand and helped her out of the car before slamming the door closed. He let her lean against the front door and opened the back door to fish her purse from the back seat.

      “I didn’t. You were way too cute when you shut up. Like a little obedient kitty. I had to enjoy the moment a little bit longer.” He teased, putting a hand around her waist and making their way to the entrance in the complex.

      Y/N scoffed at his childish remark but decided to ignore it. She didn’t have the necessary energy to argue with him.

      “So you carried me to the car? What about the blanket and the other stuff you had there? Did you go back for them?”

      “No, I had Jay get them for me, so I don’t wake you up.” 

      Stopping in front of the elevator, Jisung pushed the button, and they waited a few seconds for the doors to open. Stepping inside, Y/N pushed the button for the third floor before leaning back against Jisung.

      “Talking about Jay. Thank you for today!” The man threw her a questioning look, acting as nonchalant as he could.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Don’t act dumb! I know you didn’t give me your jacket just because you are nice like that. You saw how he looked at me.” She wanted to sound more aggressive, but her voice came out soft and calm since she was still sleepy.

      Jisung found that adorable but surpassed a smile. Adopting a disinterested expression, he spoke.

      “He did? I didn’t notice. I just thought that, as your boyfriend, I shouldn’t let everyone see your underwear.” Y/N punched him in the stomach lightly, and Jisung dramatically bent down, letting out a fake grunt.

      “You are such an asshole!”

      A loud ding echoed in the restricted space, and the doors opened, revealing the dirty wall of the third floor. They stepped out of the elevator and slowly walked down the hallway to where Y/N’s apartment door was. Taking her purse from Jisung’s hand and finding her keys, she unlocked the door and opened it.

      She leaned against the door frame and looked up at Jisung, giving him a bright smile.

      “I'd like to say that I had fun, but I fell asleep halfway through the date.” She giggled, trying to mask her embarrassment. “But it was nice getting out of the house. Thank you for today!”

      The man put his hands in his jean’s pockets and scoffed.

      “You are lucky Mina got upset by you sleeping on me. Otherwise, I would have gotten angry. My shoulders are so stiff from having to support your weight. I might not recover for a few days.” A fake pained groan left his throat, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

      Lifting herself on her tiptoes, she placed one hand on his shoulder and brought his head lower. She connected her lips with his in a short kiss. Breaking the kiss, she stepped inside her apartment and kept the door open enough for her head to be visible.

      “See you on Monday!” With that, she closed the door all the way and made her way into her bedroom.

      She wasn’t sure what was the time, but it must have been well past 11 PM. Taking off the dress, she discarded it on the floor before grabbing the oversized t-shirt from the back of the desk chair. She put it on and threw herself on the bed, letting the sheets envelop her body before falling asleep.

      Y/N’s eyes shot open, and her mouth fell open as the realisation of what she did only moments prior sank in. Putting the back of her hand over her forehead and exhaling deeply, her eyes closed and her brows furrowed. Why did she kiss him? She’ll never interact with anyone while she’s still drunk on sleep.

      Meanwhile, Jisung that just exited the complex couldn’t contain his smile. He couldn’t understand why that was happening. They kissed before to make Mina jealous. But maybe that was precisely the reasons such an insignificant gesture brought him so much joy. Mina was nowhere near. A spark erupted in his stomach at the thought that the girl might have a crush on him.

      “Do it again! With more love this time. Come on. You want me! You desire me!” Y/N ordered to Jeongin.

      The man let out a frustrated groan, using the script to cover his eyes from the brightness of the sun.

      Both of them, Hyunjin and Jisung, were outside, in front of the university. They had a free period and decided to practice the script for the short movie they were playing in. Hyunjin, although not part of the film itself, was always with them thanks to Mrs. Bae’s affinity towards him. 

      Jisung, however, was new in the picture. Ever since they went on that date a week and a half ago, he seemed to be spending more time with her. She felt mildly suffocated by that but decided not to question it. As long as he wasn’t distracting her from her usual activities, she didn’t mind him tagging along.

      “You don’t make desiring you really easy. We’ve done it four times already. We will start filming in three months. I don't have to be perfect right now!” Jeongin exclaimed letting his body fall on the bench on which Jisung and Hyunjin were seated.

      “Hey! Be careful of what you say. My girlfriend is very, much desirable!” Jisung said in a jokingly offended tone earning disgusted groans from the other two men.

      “Really dude? I could have lived my life without knowing that information.” Jeongin started fanning himself with the script. It was a sweltering day.

      “I don’t understand why you are here. You are only four-wheeling us.” Hyunjin remarked, earning himself a dirty look from Jisung.

      “A car needs all four wheels to be functional.”

      “Yeah, babe, but we are a tricycle.”

      Hyunjin, Jeongin and Y/N erupted into laughter at Jisung’s dumbfounded expression. From behind Y/N, they heard even louder laughter and Hyunjin scoffed at the scene unfolding under his eyes. 

      “I swear to God! Mina has been so annoying lately. Much more than when she used to hang out with Jisung. It’s as if she’s following us around.” The man rolled his eyes as he remembered how many times Mina ‘coincidentally’ happened to be in the same place as them the past week.

      “Tell me about it. And how she is always with Jay from our major. If I wanted to watch live porn, I would have signed up on one of those porn sites.” Jeongin seemed as annoyed as the other man.

      “Don’t stress about that guys. I’m pretty sure these are just coincidences.” Y/N tried telling them, even though she knew everything they said was right.

      “No, I’m pretty sure they are not. There’s someone between us whose attention she’s trying to catch.” Hyunjin gave Jisung a side look.

      “You can’t be sure of that.” She played dumb, wanting more than anything to change the subject.

      “ Oh, please! She’s always watching him. In the cafeteria, when we are hanging around on our free periods, when she’s kissing that loser. It’s like he’s a good movie she can’t tear her eyes from.” Jeongin snapped, tired of the whole situation.

      “Then let’s give them something to look at!” Jisung smirked smugly.

      “What do..”

      In the next second, Y/N has been pulled on Jisungs lap, and he captured her lips in an urgent kiss. One hand was on the nape of her head forcefully holding her in the kiss, and the other one was on her ass cheek, squeezing it. 

      She heard someone awkwardly clearing their throat from her right, and all her senses heightened. Y/N placed her hands on Jisung’s shoulders and tried lightly pushing him away while uncomfortably shifting in his lap. As a response, the man groaned lowly and slid his hand from her neck to her chest, cupping it.

      Her eyes widened in shock at his action and mustering all the force she had in her, she pushed him away, finally breaking the kiss. A loud bang ringed around them as her hand made contact with his cheek. Jumping off his lap, she gathered her bag from the leg of the bench.

      “You are a fucking asshole!” She shouted in his face before storming off inside the university.

      The stomping of her boots was echoing in the empty halls, and the few students that were around decided to make her space to pass. Her thinking was clogged at the moment, and all she could feel was rage and shame. She was angrily making her way down the halls, but her destination was uncertain. She just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

      Y/N heard quick steps from behind her, and a hand pulled at her shoulder. Without turning around, she shrugged it off and started walking faster. The person behind her also increased their walking speed, but this time around, they grabbed her wrist.

      Just as she was preparing to scream in their face, she was pulled into a hug, her face forced into a firm chest. Y/N felt herself calm down as the smell of a cologne she grew accustomed to in the last week invaded her lungs. His hand was gently rubbing her back, and she relaxed under her touch.

      “Are you okay?” Hyunjin whispered softly in her ear.

      She hid her face more in his chest, feeling shame overcome her.

      “I’m sorry you had to see that. I swear it’s not what you think! We’ve never…” Her voice was shaky, as if she was about to cry. Hyunjin cupped her face forcing her to look in his eyes. She could see concern and sadness hiding behind his brown orbs.

      “Why are you apologising to me? You are the one who’s been wronged here. I just wanna make sure you are okay.” His soft voice was acting as a calmative for her racing heartbeat.

      Y/N felt her insides flip at his caring words. His hands on her cheeks were hot, and she decided to blame them for the blush that acaparated her face.

      “Hey! Step away from my girlfriend, you motherfucker!” Jisung’s voice filled her ears, and she saw Hyunjin roll his eyes.

      The warmth of his body left her, and he crossed his arms as Jisung finally arrived in front of them. Hyunjin was looking down at the other man, and both their expressions were filled with anger.

      “I was just making sure she’s fine. It looks like you took your time deciding to do the same.” The taller man spat venom dripping off his tongue.

      “It’s none of your business how I handle my relationship!” Jisung adopted a louder tone bringing his face closer to Hyunjin’s.

      “But it is when you decide to act like a bitch in heat and make your girlfriend uncomfortable. This is why Mina never dated you and why you and Y/N won’t last long!”

      Jisung clenched his jaw upon hearing the other man’s words, and before anyone could register what was happening, he plunged his fist into Hyunjin’s face.

[oikawaplssteponme]

𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒀𝒐𝒖: part 4

✨part 1

✨part 2

✨part 3

“It’s always been you. Has it always been me?”

pairing: Tobio Kageyama x fem!reader

rating/warnings: E for everyone :) [again I think two swear words but that’s it]

synopsis: You liked him. He liked you. Easy right? Well, maybe not as easy as you thought.

A/n: hii again!! 💓i hope you all have been enjoying the fic so far :) i think this is the half way point of the fic, since ive been posting two chapters at a time. just a reminder that my requests/asks are open to anyone who would like to request something (just check out my rulebook first) and the taglist for this fic is still open so just ask to be added and i gladly will add you! okay enough of me talking, enjoy chapters 7&8! xx Willow

•

Seven: donuts

You two laid in your bed for what it seemed like hours. You talked about everything and nothing all at the same time. You told Kageyama about the first time you saw him, and how instantly intimidated you were.

“Damn, I’m really that scary?” he asked. You laughed.

“It’s just that you were in game mode so you were too focused to even notice me.”

The first time you saw Kageyama was when you and Koi passed the gym to peek in at the volleyball team. You had heard that some first years were in the starting line up but you needed to see it to believe it. You poked your head into the door and there he was: yelling at Tsukishima. You remember asking Koi who he was. She told you that his name was Tobio Kageyama. Your heart was instantly hooked right then and there.

“Well I remember when I first saw you,” Kageyama teased.

“Okay go on.” You sat up beside him.

“It was the first day of school and I was going to turn in my club application to Daichi. I was walking to the gym when I heard you. You had your headphones in so I don’t think you noticed me, but you were singing and dancing, as if no one was watching. You were singing at the top of your lungs. I guess that's when I knew.”

You had completely forgotten about that. You got sucked in your own world that you didn’t even see him.

“Wait knew what?”

“That I liked you.” Your heart stopped. It was one thing to mess around with Kageyama but it was another to actually hear him say that he likes you.

“I’m surprised that you’d like me after that embarrassment,” you joked. You could feel the blood rushing to your face.

“I thought it was cute,” he said with a smile as he placed a kiss on your forehead. You smiled.

“Hey I have an idea. Get dressed.” You got up from your bed and put your sweater back on. Kageyama gave you a puzzled look.

“Where are we going?” he asked, also putting his shirt back on.

“It's a surprise,” you teased. Kageyama rolled his eyes and you two went downstairs.

You noticed that it was starting to snow. You put on your winter coat, a hat and your sneakers. Kageyama put on his jacket.

“Kags you’re gonna get cold,” you said. He looked down at his jacket.

“I’ll run by my house and grab my coat,” he replied.

“Okay, just meet me outside.” He nodded, put on his shoes, and headed to his house. You checked yourself in the bathroom mirror. Not bad. You grabbed your wallet, house keys, and went to wait outside for Kageyama.

~

It was already dark out. You waited by a street lamp and watched the snow fall. You looked around for Kageyama before feeling a warm presence behind you. There he was, hugging you from behind.

“So where are we going?” he whispered. You turned around and grabbed his hand.

“I told you it’s a surprise. Let’s go.”

You and Kageyama walked downtown, enjoying the snowy scene before you. The moon was a perfect crescent. The street lamps guided your path.

“Almost there,” you said. You pulled Kageyama’s arm out of excitement when you turned the corner. There it was. One of your favorite places in the world. It was a little food cart, painted green with blue flowers all over it. Thankfully they were still open.

“Donuts?” Kageyama questioned.

“Not just any donuts. These very well might be the greatest donuts in the world,” you explained. You got in line to place an order.

“Hi could I get an order of the small sugar donuts please?” You asked. The cashier nodded and you paid.

“Aren’t I supposed to pay for stuff?” asked Kageyama. You giggled.

“Of course not, it’s my treat.” You grabbed your donuts and went to sit down on a bench.

“Here, try one.” you handed Kageyama the bag of treats and he picked one out. You looked at him intently. He took a bite and his eyes lit up.

“Wait these are actually really good,” he said with his mouth full. You smiled from ear to ear.

“I knew you would like them,” you cheered. The two of you sat quietly on the bench ate the rest of the donuts. The snow continued to fall down around you. You could see each individual snowflake’s pattern against Kageyama’s black hair.

The breeze got colder. You started to shiver and Kageyama pulled you towards him.

“We should probably head back before you catch a cold,” he said. You nodded and started to walk about to your place.

~

Once you got to your house you realized how late it was.

“Kags it’s almost 10 o’clock.” You couldn’t believe how much time you had spent together and how much happened in one day.

“Oh shit really? I’m supposed to be heading home,” he said. You felt your heart sink. You knew he obviously would have to leave at some point but you chose to ignore it. You worried that this would just be a one time thing.

“Oh okay,” you frowned. Kageyama noticed your pout.

He pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” He said, giving you a squeeze.

“Okay…” You didn’t want to let go. “Kags?”

“What is it?” He looked down at you.

“I didn’t get to tell you earlier but I like you too...if you couldn’t already tell.” You could feel your face getting hot. Kageyama just looked at you and smiled. He gave you a quick kiss but you pulled him back in. You wanted to make sure he knew. You finally pulled away, giving him a shy smile.

“I know.” he said, turning around and waking home.

•

eight: someone like me

The rest of the weekend seemed to move painfully slow. You only saw Kageyama that Saturday and hadn’t talked to him since. You spend the rest of the weekend digesting everything that happened that day. You couldn’t have helped but notice a shift in Kageyama. He seemed to be instantly more confident after the time you spent in your room. You liked this new Kageyama. There was still doubt in your mind regarding the two of you but you knew that it was just your nerves talking. You worried that the second you stepped into school he wouldn’t say a word to you. That what happened was just for that one time. You didn’t take Kageyama for a player though. In all honesty, you were probably the first girl he ever kissed. Regardless, you were nervous.

You got dressed and ready for school. You wore your classic uniform. The weather was getting colder so you once again put on your winter coat and hat. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. Once you opened the door to leave, there Kageyama was, waiting for you.

“Hi there,” he said. Your face lit up.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Walking you to school of course,” he said, grabbing your hand to hold.

“Is this going to be a reoccurring thing now?” You asked.

“If you want.” Your smile was enough of an answer for him.

~

The two of you walked together until reaching Karasuno. He still held your hand upon entering the school.

“Kageyama!” a voice called. You both turned to see Hinita, Tsukishima, and Tadashi. “Oh hi, Y/N.”

“Hi guys,” you replied.

“Mind if we borrow him for a second?” asked Tadashi. You looked up at Kageyama.

“Oh yeah, that's fine. I’ll see you guys later,” You said. You let go of Kageyama’s hand, giving him a shy smile, and turning to go to your locker.

“Wait Y/N,” Kageyama called back. You looked at him again.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” He smiled.

“Sounds good,” You nodded and Kageyama placed a kiss on your head before going back to his friends. You try to contain the butterflies in your stomach as you grabbed your books from your locker.

~

“Kageyama I never took you for the romantic type,” said Tadashi. The school day had finished and Kageyama was now at practice.

“I’m not,” groaned Kageyama.

“Well I think Y/N would say differently. You can’t seem to keep your hands off her,” teased Tsukki.

“Come on guys leave him alone,” said Suga.

“Thank you,” Kageyama got up and went to warm up.

“So is she your girlfriend now?” asked Daichi. Kageyama stopped in his tracks.

“Uh no…” he said. Technically you weren’t but now a million thoughts ran through Tobio’s head. He knew it was way too early to pop that question but he didn’t like the idea of any other guys having their eyes on you.

“So you don’t mind if I talk to her?” joked Tsukki. Kageyama didn’t find it funny.

“You wouldn’t,” Kageyama said back to him. Tsukki laughed.

“Come on King of the court, a little hello wouldn’t hurt.”

“Alright guys that’s enough-“ began Daichi.

“I swear if you-“

“I said that’s enough! Now everyone go warm up,” yelled Daichi. Kageyama gave Tsukki a glare before turning away to face the court.

~

“You’re lying,” said Koi. Your eyes widened. You were at practice and you were telling Koi about what happened between you and Kageyama.

“You think I’m lying?” you asked. Koi chuckled.

“You’re trying to tell me that the same Kageyama that can barely say more than a sentence at a time came over to your house and kissed you? If you are trying to make me jealous it won’t work,” replied Koi. You were so confused.

“I’m sorry, what? Why would I lie and why would I try to make you jealous?”

“Let’s face it Y/N, I don’t think you are really Tobio’s type anyway. I mean if all that stuff actually happened then good for you but I’m not too sure if he actually likes you.” You were shocked at Koi’s response.

“Didn’t you tell me just last week that you thought he liked me?”

“Well what was I supposed to say? I’m your friend, if I told you what I really thought you probably would have started over-thinking it. Anyway since you seemed to have had a fun night with Kageyama, I guess I was wrong. So no harm done,” Koi smiled.

You were still trying to process everything that she had said.

Why would she say that to you? Why would she think you were trying to make her jealous? How did she even know what Kageyama’s type was, or even anything about Kageyama?

You felt uneasy after listening to what Koi had to say. It was a mix of anger and anxiety that she might be right.

“Then what is his type?” you asked, unsure whether or not you actually wanted an answer. A tiny smirk appeared on Koi’s face.

“Oh I don’t know...probably someone like me.”

[taglist OPEN: @vangoghpoets @vangoghmusings @lilnuances @jennasquishy8 @ladybird-00 @moonlightsof]

[padfootagain]

A Very Rose Mistake (IV)

Part 4: How You Became Lambkin

 Here we go for a new chapter! This is cute, but also, an important chapter for many reasons! The plot is now starting to unfold!!

No warnings of any kind to apply here, really, it's just rather innocent and cute. I hope you like this new chapter! Tell me what you think about it!

Word Count: 3911

I

Holmes Chapel, 2007

 Shakespeare was a pain.

Maybe it was still relevant if you went to the theatre and saw professionals actually perform the play, but from the point of view of two 13 years old who had to read the plays for school… it was a pain.

Besides the language being old, there was also the fact that tons of the words on the page had just been made up. Or at least, it sounded that way. Because Harry had most certainly never heard any of those being used before and he had better things to do with his time than try and guess the meaning of these words. Playing football was one of them. And there was no way his mother would let him out of the house before he would have finished his homework.

There was only one way he could get to the pitch on time to play tonight with his friends. He had to ask for the help of the brightest mind he knew.

He got up from his bed where he was lying down with his copy of Henry V covering his face. He let the book fall on his bed while he reached for the piece of red glass that rested on the side of his window. He aimed at the sun, until the reflection of the light on the glass would dance over your own window. The perks of having his best friend living in the house right next to his: it was easy to reach you.

And indeed, it took you less than a minute to appear before you would appear on the other side of your own window. He couldn't help but grin at the sight.

Harry grabbed a piece of cardboard from behind his desk, that he had already prepared. One of the messages that you often used and both had kept, ready, just in case you would need them.

Help with homework?

He saw you laughing and shaking your head, but you grabbed your own cardboard, large enough to hide you completely behind it.

My place?

He merely nodded with a big goofy grin on his face, before grabbing his bag, his book and heading to the living room.

"Mum!" he called, thumping through the hall.

"Yes, I am not deaf," Anne laughed at her son.

"Can I go over to Y/N's to do my homework with her?"

"To do your homework or play videogames?"

"I have a match tonight."

"Ha… so it's really for homework then! Sure, you can go. Bring some snacks if you want, I bought some cookies, the ones she likes."

"Thanks mum! I'll go directly to the field when I'm done…"

"No, you won't. You're going to come back here to drop off your stuff and to get changed and then you'll go to the field."

He heaved a sigh, but complied without arguing.

"Okay. Bye!"

"Love you!"

But Harry was already slamming the front door shut and sprinting towards your house. Your mother was waiting for him with her door open and an amused smile on her face.

"Hello, Harry! How are you today?"

"Great! Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N!"

"Y/N's in her bedroom. Do you want to bring up some snacks?"

"I've brought some cookies my mum bought today."

"How nice! Well, go ahead then!"

"Thanks!"

He took off his shoes, placing them in the space that was saved for him in the hall, before sprinting up the stairs to your room.

He closed the door behind him.

"Hey! Thanks, I'm struggling with this bloody play!"

You merely chuckled, resting your back against your wall as you sat on your bed.

"It's alright, I haven't started that one yet."

"Have you done maths already?"

"Yep! Just finished."

"Me too. But that English stuff… ugh…"

He climbed on your bed by your side, dragging behind him his notebook, pencils and his Shakespearean play.

Harry gave you some time to catch up with him on the assignment, although he hadn't done much yet. You then spent some time trying to analyse the text and answer the questions on your assignment about the scene.

Harry was annoyed to say the least.

"What are these words, even…" he groaned.

"Come on… some are cute… 'lambkin', that's cute!"

"Lambkin?! You think calling your girlfriend lambkin is cute?"

"I do. It's sweet!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Alright, then, I'll call you that from now on. We'll see for how long you find it cute."

You exploded in laughter, the sound enough to erase his grumpy frown.

"That's not fair! I would be the only one with a ridiculous nickname like that!" you protested.

"You are not calling me lambkin. Ever."

"Alright," you shook your head at his silly remark. "After we're done with this, we'll look for a nickname for you."

"I'm going to the field after, I'm playing with the guys."

"That just means I'll choose whatever I want to laugh at you!"

"Wow… scary… lambkin."

You narrowed your eyes at each other, and you considered his banter as a challenge.

"You're gonna regret that, Styles."

"Oh, am I, lambkin?"

But you could only keep up the serious act for a few more seconds, before you both let go and were lost in a fit of laughter.

You did manage to finish your homework on time for Harry to go play football with the guys. You spent the rest of your allowed time before a screen looking for old and ridiculous nicknames to use against Harry on your computer.

You eventually found the perfect one.

His phone beeped after he was back home, about to go to bed. He had changed in his pyjamas and was about to turn off the lights for the night when the sound rang through the room.

"Harry! Go to bed, you have school tomorrow," Anne ordered, as she was passing by in the corridor right at that moment.

"I am going to bed! It's Y/N!"

"If you're not in bed in five minutes…"

"I am going!"

He checked your text all the same.

Y/N: I've found your nickname. You are chuckaboo.

He snorted, answering once he was buried under his blankets.

Harry: What does that even mean?

He put his phone on silence to avoid his mother hearing your response.

Y/N: It's a term of endearment to call a friend. Fits just right. Plus, I think it suits you, chuckaboo.

Harry: You'd better not call me like that at school.

Y/N: Oh, I will :)

He laughed, despite feigning anger in his next response. You merely replied with another smiley face, and wished him good night.

He went to sleep with an amused smile on his face.

It was just a joke, it would last for a few days before you would both grow tired of it. Stupid nicknames that would make you laugh for a while. Or so he thought, at least.

Lambkin and Chuckaboo.

What a ridiculous pair…

II

Loch Lomond, 2020

Harry kept on holding your hand as you settled around the large table that had been set for your family. The atmosphere was more relaxed as you waited for Amy and her family to join all of you over dinner. Your mom and you sat between your father and Harry, a protection of some sort against the nasty glances that your dad kept on throwing at your fake boyfriend. Dinner was merry, and Amy's family provided a nice distraction for your own family members to focus on. Harry spent most of the evening lost in a deep conversation with Amy's grandfather about 'the music back then', and he seemed to blend in just fine, not that you had ever had any doubt that he would.

One chair though had been left empty. In the large hall decorated with flickering lights, the view upon the loch growing darker and darker as the hours passed, until there was nothing left to see but the stary sky, there was one empty spot. It was for one of Amy's cousins, who had to work late at the hospital in Glasgow, where he worked as a nurse, apparently. Patrick, was his name, and he was set to sit right opposite you. It's only when you were waiting for dessert that he appeared.

And you struggled quite a bit to hide your reaction.

Because Patrick was handsome. Patrick was very handsome. Patrick was also 1000% your type.

And Patrick was set right across from you around the long, rectangular table.

He gave a kiss to his family, was introduced properly by an Amy that was on her way to getting from tipsy to drunk, and he seemed a little embarrassed by her antiques as she praised him for his work in medicine and called all who were single around the table to 'give him a ring'. And you found it cute.

You decided it was your duty, as you were the person sitting across from him, to make some small talk. Anyway, your parents were entertaining a conversation of their own that you weren't particularly interested in, and Harry and Amy's grandfather were lost in a vivid argument about Carole King's best song on Tapestry.

"I'm Y/N!" you introduced yourself with a welcoming smile. "Cassie's cousin."

"Oh, so we're the cousins then! Nice to meet you!" he greeted you with a warm smile as well.

And he had a nice smile. Very nice smile, indeed…

"So… you're a nurse then!"

He ran a hand in his hair, embarrassed.

"Yeah, I am. Sorry about her rant, I think she's had too much to drink."

"It's her wedding, I reckon she has the right to have a little fun."

"I guess. And what do you do for a living?"

You were interrupted by the dessert arriving, and you waited for the waiters to have left to answer.

"I'm studying for a PhD in history."

"Oh, wow."

He seemed genuinely impressed, which was always nice to hear. You waited for the next question to strike what do you do with a PhD in history, but it didn't come. Instead he asked another question, seeming genuinely interested.

"What is your thesis about?"

"The influence and impact of the XIXth century international exchanges and relations on modern politics."

"Wow."

"It's a mouthful," you joked, nodding your head.

"No, no! It sounds very interesting! Where do you study."

"California. But before that I got my degree in Oxford."

"Dear God… I'm sitting in front of the next Nobel Prize."

You laughed, shying away.

"No, absolutely not. Besides, I don't even think there is one to congratulate historians."

"A shame. I would have bet on you."

You did notice the way he shot you a shy smile. And you did notice the way he didn't look away, and didn't look for another conversation to settle into. He was focused on you while you ate your dessert, and you did the same.

Your conversation went on when the coffees and teas were served. And you had to admit that you liked it that way. He was charming, with a cute Scottish accent, and eyes that glimmered in the yellowish light of the room.

It's only when your cup of coffee was empty that Harry took your hand in his again, planting your feet right back to Earth, and reminding you of what you were here for in the first place.

He gave you a smile, before guiding your hand up to his lips to place a kiss over your knuckles, surprising you with the tender gesture and making your heart rush a little more as he looked at you with the tenderest of gazes.

"Are you tired, babe? Or would you like to take a walk with me? I could use some fresh air."

Your heart stumbled a little at the pet name, and you didn't like it. You didn't like it one bit, so you forced the organ to stop its little dance.

"Sure."

You bid everyone a good night -and did notice the disappointed look Patrick gave you as you abruptly ended your conversation in order to leave with Harry - and some other people retreated to their rooms at the same time as you, while you followed Harry outside.

It was cold outside, a heavy wind sweeping skeleton leaves to gather at your feet. You could hear the shushed rumble of conversations on the other side of the windows and the wind caught in the branches and lifting the water of the loch in clapping waves. Harry offered you his arm, and as you noticed that you could still be seen from the table inside, you took it with a grateful smile.

You walked along the shore in silence for a few minutes, your gaze distracted from the dark path by the shining lights above your head, but you weren't worried about falling, not when you were holding Harry's arm. He would catch you before you could fall.

He finally heaved a sigh.

"Well, that wasn't a complete disaster. It went better later on, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I reckon that once the shock had passed, it was alright," you nodded.

"Except for you father, of course. Judging by the way he was eyeing me all night, he probably will try to cut off my balls before the end of the week."

You laughed at that, the sound clear and joyful, luminous over the dark scenery that surrounded you. But the reflexions of the stars over the water was lovely all the same. They seemed brighter to Harry as your laughter echoed a little longer around both of you.

"He's not so fond of the idea. Don't know why."

Harry shrugged.

"Must think I'm not good enough for you."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

"Anyway… I think we're getting away with it."

"Getting the hang of it, babe?"

"Oh, shut up, chuckaboo."

"Ha, here you are again, back to your normal self. Will you start punching me next?"

"I've never punched you!"

"But you've threatened to do so dozens of times."

"I am very good at boxing."

His smile grew more tender, a little melancholic as well, but you attributed it to the quiet of the place that surrounded you. You were away from the lodge now, enough so for voices to have disappeared. It was only you, Harry, and the whisper of autumn leaves now.

"You're good at everything, Y/N."

There was a moment of silence, while you stared at him. But then, his expression grew a little mischievous, and he faked to be lost in thought.

"Except at cooking, and singing, and playing guitar, and most definitely climbing, and gymnastics, and…"

"Yeah, okay, I get it, you jerk!" you stopped him, punching his arm, although your gesture wasn't violent enough to hurt. Still, Harry dramatically held his arm as if you had thrown him your stronger uppercut.

"See, I knew it! Knew you would end up doing it for real, instead of only threatening me with your punches!"

"Well, you should shut up before I do it again."

"You're so cruel, lambkin," he tried to sound convincing, but the goofy smile upon his lips betrayed his thoughts.

You shook your head at him, wheezing.

You walked in silence for a little longer, before deciding to go back to the lodge. You were still holding Harry's arm, even if no one was around to see the two of you pretend. None of you acknowledge the fact, merely choosing to act as if you weren't. Maybe, a voice in your mind explained it by acting in case someone would bump into the two of you. You knew it wasn't the truth though, but you pretended that it was for the few minutes more that the gesture lasted while you walked on the edge of the water and under the tall trees.

"So… Patrick?" Harry asked after a long silence.

"He's nice!" you answered with a smile. "He's a nice chap!"

"Hmm," Harry nodded. "You did seem to have fun with him tonight. Even thought that maybe you didn't need my services anymore."

"Pfft! Don't be ridiculous! I've just talked with him for 5 minutes."

"Almost an hour, actually."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You counted?"

He rolled his eyes at you.

"I just noticed it was a long conversation."

"Hmm…"

"You know, we can still tell the truth to everyone, and you can take your shot with Patrick."

You didn't know how to describe the tone he used to say the man's name, but it wasn't oozing with fondness, that was for certain. You looked at him suspiciously, a smirk creeping its way to your lips.

"Are you… jealous?"

"Jealous? Me?"

"You're the jealous type, don't deny it."

"And don't flatter yourself. We're not really together, remember? Why would I be jealous."

"I don't know, but you sound like you are."

"I'm not jealous."

"Good."

"But do you like him?"

You shrugged.

"I don't know. I think he's attractive. I think he's nice. So…"

"You like him."

"He's alright so far. And he is my type."

Harry raised an eyebrow, before his features molded into a frown instead. His mind couldn't help but compare himself to Patrick, and point out everything that was different between them.

"Am I your type?" he asked after a long silence.

You laughed, taken aback.

"What kind of question is that?"

He shrugged.

"I don't know. Just wondering. I'm playing your boyfriend for a week, but… would I be your type? Had I not met you when we were five and crashed your ice-cream into your face… had you met me tonight instead of Patrick… would you have thought that I was your type?"

You looked away, finally letting go of his arm, and the lack of contact between your two bodies made Harry regret his question.

"I don't know," you lied, before finding back your composure, and shooting him a smile. "But you're my boyfriend for this week. So for the next seven days, you are most definitely my type, honey."

He laughed, shaking his head. You had walked back to the lodge, and he opened the door for you, dramatically bowing before you to let you through first.

"After you, my love."

Harry went first to take a shower, and then it was your turn. Some warm water was just what your tired muscles needed to relax after your busy day. When you walked out of the bathroom, a little bit of fog following you through the door, Harry was lying on the bed, atop the blankets, scrolling on his phone.

He had changed into a comfortable jumper and a pair or pyjama pants that seemed warmed and soft. His curls were still damped, wetting his pillow, but he didn't seem to mind it at all.

He looked up when you stepped out of the bathroom though, and you didn't fail to notice the way his eyes settled on your legs before hurrying to your face while his cheeks blushed.

Your pyjama shorts weren't that short at all, stopping right above your knees. Still, it seemed enough to make Harry's cheekbones and ears turn crimson. You wore an old Treat People With Kindness jumper too, matching his grey hoodie.

"You're alright, Harry?" you asked, rather puzzled by his reaction.

"Sure, why?"

"You're blushing."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"It's nothing. I'm just tired."

You weren't convinced, but chose to drop the subject, your own fatigue weighing on you. So you shrugged instead, finishing to get ready for bed.

You slipped under the covers and heaved a sigh as your head hit the pillow.

"Tired?" he asked, and you could only hum and nod in response.

He hesitated for a second, while you closed your eyes.

"There's an extra blanket. I can sleep on top of the covers, and you under them, if you want."

You opened your eyes again to look at him.

"Would that make you feel more comfortable?"

He considered your question, and shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"I don't really care. But… maybe for tonight, you can do that. Won't you be cold though?"

"It's quite warm in here. And the blanket looks cosy."

"Alright, but don't hesitate to get under the covers if you're too cold. I don't mind if you do."

"Okay," he nodded, before getting up to get the blanket.

He lied down by your side again, getting comfortable, before he would turn off the lamp on his nightstand, and you did the same, letting darkness take over every inch of the room, looking darker than it really was as your eyes got used to the shadows.

"Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

You turned to your side, trying to get comfortable too, and your foot gently bumped into his through the layers of sheets and blankets as you moved.

"Sorry," you quipped, moving your foot away.

"'S okay," he replied, his voice lower than usual.

You let silence settle for a while, but it felt strange. Awkward. There was something unspoken hovering above the two of you, you could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I feel weird."

"Weird? You mean sick?" he asked with worry in his tone now.

"No, I mean… it's a little weird sleeping next to you. Why though? We've done that since we were six."

He shrugged, but couldn't deny that he was feeling the same. His heart was beating so fast, he was worried you would hear it in the silent night.

"Maybe it's because we're not children anymore," he whispered.

You hummed in response.

"And we haven't done it in a long time too," you added, and he heard you nodding, your cheek brushing against your pillow.

He took a deep breath before speaking again, his tone hesitant.

"Do you… would you feel better if I took the couch?"

You considered his offer, but shook your head.

"No, I… I don't feel uncomfortable. It's just… strange."

It was his turn to hum.

"Would you feel better on the couch?" you asked him.

"No, it's… it's a nice weird."

"Yeah, it is."

"I'm just… it makes me a little nervous."

"Nervous?"

He made a face, that you couldn't see, but you would have found it adorable if you had.

"I'm afraid I'll wake you up with my snoring. Or speak some nonsense in my sleep. Or you wake up tomorrow morning and see me drooling, with saliva all over my face."

You laughed at him, reaching in the dark to touch his arm. You patted the muscles tenderly.

"Don't worry, chuckaboo. I've seen worse! Seen you throwing up a fair amount of time. Also, I'll just punch you again to wake you up if you start snoring too much."

He laughed, and both of your laughter mingling through the room made most of the tension in the room disappear.

"You're right. Besides, maybe you'll be the one waking me up because of your snoring!" Harry went on.

"I don't snore!" you snorted.

"You do. I've heard you before."

"Well, then, you can wake me up if I do."

You moved your fingers away from his arm, but they lingered on the mattress near him all the same, in the little space between the two of you.

"Sleep well, lambkin," Harry whispered, closing his eyes, and when you answered, you had the same smile on your lips as the one that he wore.

"You too, chuckaboo."

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

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[pedros-mustache-main]

a series of fortunate events

summary: the three times the line between friends and ~something more~ is blurred and the first time that line is demolished.

word count: 1.5k+

warnings: language, mention of harassment

a/n: dang right i stole the title from my favorite children’s book series! what’s it to ya?

i. 

the first time it happens is completely by accident. you’re mates––nothing more––so when he asks you to go with him to the oscars you tease him about his lack of a proper date, but ultimately say yes. it is the oscars after all. you find your dress (a pale lilac chiffon gown, only eighty pounds on the clearance rack at h&m), begrudgingly allow him to purchase your plane ticket, and pack you bags. 

after a long flight and full saturday of sight-seeing and overpriced meals in the city, sunday evening finally rolls around. you get ready in the comfortable silence of your hotel room. introvert that you are, it’s easier to get ready alone knowing you’ll be out until the wee hours of the morning. plus, the solitude gives you a moment to collect yourself in private. you’re nervous, naturally, but it’s likely he’s ten times as nervous as you. the thought forces you to get your emotions under control; you’re here to be a support, not a burden.

he knocks on the door at five p.m. sharp. grabbing a pair of earrings, you hurry to the door and pull it open, turning your back as you search for your shoes amidst the pile of clothes on the floor.

“that would be a riot if i forgot my shoes,” you say dryly. one hand shoves the back of your earring into place while the other tosses a shirt out of the way. “could you imagine me showing up barefoot?”

you rise from where you’re crouched near the floor and turn to face him. what you see stills the air in your chest. he’s painfully handsome in his suit, and there’s a part of you that likes his short hair, but that’s not what stops you.

he’s staring at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. so much so, heat rises to your cheeks at his open gaze. you want to look away because if you don’t soon you’ll surely start to sweat, but you can’t. his stare holds you frozen.

clearing your throat, you motion to your gown. “i got it on sale.” it’s lame, a foolish attempt to ease the heaviness in the room. if anything, as his eyes move from your face to your body, the heaviness only grows stronger.

“it’s... nice.”

a moment longer and you know you’ll burst, both out of confusion and excitement, so you find your shoes, slip them on, and shove him out into the hall with a quip about being late.

still, once you crawl into bed well past midnight, buzzed and content, you replay his look over and over because friends don’t look at each other that way and the idea alone sends a nervous thrill down your spine.

ii. 

the next time it happens is barely worth mentioning, but it’s kept your wheels spinning and your heart thumping for days despite the moment’s smallness.

you’d gotten coffee together, caught up on a few weeks, and shared a laugh. it’s nothing out of the ordinary. but there’s one moment––the moment that nearly drives you to insanity––which you cannot shake.

from his place at the table, he can see out the window over your shoulder. as you talk, he watches the road outside, his eyes trailing the passersby. he’s always been that way, a people watcher. you like his thoughtfulness, but sometimes it can drive him to distraction.

you snap your fingers in front of his nose. “hey, earth to gwil. i’m just about to get to the best part of the story.”

“wait.” he sits forward, grabbing the hand still hovering in front of his face. his fingers curl around yours, and he squeezes your palm in a silent message. “that lady dropped her grocery bags and that guy’s about to help her.” 

you twist, hands still entwined, to look out the window. sure enough, an older woman, tomatoes and fruit and cardboard boxes littered around her feet, is helped by an older man. the scene is sweet, like something about of a film.

you face him again. “that’s cute.”

he sits back and shrugs before taking a sip of his coffee. “finish your story.”

as you finish, your hands remain meshed together on the tabletop.

iii.

the last time is happens––and when you know one of you has to make the first move or else you’re fucked––is on holiday. your families have gone to the shore as one large unit for years and this summer is no different.

one evening, you follow him, your sister, and his siblings to a nearby pub. you’re tired after a long day of doing nothing, but he convinces you to come. something about trivia night and the smile on his face, the eagerness in his voice, breaks you down despite your initial protests.

you’re just grabbing another pint from the bar when a hand slaps your ass. you jolt out of surprise, beer sloshing over the rim of your glass to wet your arm. torn between the offender and the trail of beer spreading across the counter, you freeze, uncertain. the offender takes the mute reaction as encouragement, and he leans against the bar next to you.

“hey.” his breath is foul, a mixture of bad beer and garlic. you cringe and reach for a pile of napkins. “nice ass.”

“fuck off,” you mutter.

“just bein’ friendly, that’s all. you don’t gotta be so uptight.”

“i’m not uptight.” you level him a glare and upturned brow. “i’m simply not attracted to anyone who thinks a good pick up line is slapping a complete stranger’s ass.”

“is everything okay here?”

on some level, you wish he would let you handle your predicament on your own. you’re a big girl. surely you can handle an asshole without someone coming to your rescue. but he looks concerned, his eyes darting back and forth between the offender and your angry features. he sidles up next to you, weaves his arm around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and gives the offender a once over. he’s taller than the offender, which not uncommon for him, and tonight he uses his height to intimidate.

worry flashes over the offender’s face. he gestures between you and your rescuer with a meaty finger. “you know him?”

before you can answer, he answers for you. “she’s my girl.”

you feel your face react before you can stop it. your eyes go wide in surprise, your jaw slackens but doesn’t fall open, thank goodness. the hand you slowly bent around his back goes hot. 

he’s just playing a game, you tell yourself. he doesn’t mean anything by it.

the offender huffs, pulls at his beer, and sulks off. 

his arm remains snug around your waist, his fingers fluttering over the exposed skin of your hip. you shift, nerves forcing you to look elsewhere.

“thanks,” you say. “but i could have handled it.” that’s the pride speaking, but also the anxiety.

he moves to help mop up the spilled beer. “sure, but i meant it––you’re my girl and i look out for you.”

you still and look up at him under your lashes.

your mind is made up.

iv.

later that same night, you resolve to demolish the line between friend and lover once and for all. you’re tried of wondering and dreaming. you’re already too far gone to care about the repercussions. god, you think you probably love him already. 

the house is quiet, asleep, as you tiptoe your way across the floor where your sister lays on her air mattress. he’s lucky enough to have scored his own room this year. he was fastest out of the car when you parked, and he beat his brothers to the loft above the cabin. it’s semi-exposed––you can peer down over the railing to the house below––but he’s alone and that’s enough to keep you moving. 

he’s awake, which surprises you. there’s no door so as you round the corner, you can see him sitting cross-legged on his bed. a small table lamp shines across the book in his lap. his hair is mussed, as if he’s woken from an unhappy sleep. the floorboards creak under your feet, and he looks up, sleepy eyes peering through his glasses. when he realizes it’s you, he sits up straight.

“hey,” he whispers.

“hey.”

“couldn’t sleep?”

you shake your head.

“me neither.”

he sets the book aside and rubs a hand down his face, elbows propped on his knees. his sleep shirt––a godawful t-shirt with the phrase dad jokes? i think you mean rad jokes written across the front––is too small for his muscular shoulders. it tightens around his back as he moves.

“gwil, i think...” you nearly loose your muster when he looks at you. years of memories play through your head, and you wonder, if he rejects you, what will come of those memories.

but then he stands. he reaches for your wrist, circles his long fingers around it, and pulls you close. you stumble toward him. just before he lowers his head to kiss you, his fingers propped under your chin, he smiles.

“me too, kid.”

[lemonietrinket]

Be Nice to the Baby ||| San x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is ‘at war’, though you can’t understand as to why Genre: Crack/humour, some angst, happy ending with fluff Warning(s): Foul language (2x s**t, 1x f**k), mild jealousy over something rather trivial Word Count: 1913 Song(s): Cheer Up - Twice AN: this is an apology for how empty my blog has been if you ignore my reblogs. truth be told i have been writing, but everything ive written so far is birthday presents (so will come out on the day) or still not ready to be published so, here is a short thing in consolation :((

~~~

“Well good afternoon, little shit,” San announced as soon as his eyes narrowed upon his nemesis. He slunk over to the sofa before crouching to be eye level, a sour pout upon his lips. “I see you’ve already decided that you rule the goddamn roost here, but unfortunately for you I’m here to remind you that this is my house, and therefore my rules, and so you better give me back my fucking chair.” When he received no response, he spat a sigh, “Wow, how immature—silent treatment? Wow. What a... childish… child you are.” 

San rose to his feet, folding his arms as he would if lecturing a child or one of his group mates and stood his ground against his arch-enemy. He was met with a stony glare, unwavering in its force that quickly forced him to back down—not that he would admit it. As soon as he found his stare skittering away he sat down once again, raising his finger in an accusatory, jabbing point.

“I know what you’re up to,” he whispered, a snide laugh picking at his words, “yes! You can’t fool me. I know what your game is, what you’re playing at. You are a fool to try and best me in passive aggressive battle for I am the king!” Once again he was met with silence, that unblinking stare harrowed in on San and him alone, analysing his every move. The look was unreadable and he loathed that fact. He figured he could have ignored it, learned to get along with it but he had figured wrong—he had underestimated that look’s power, and he vowed to never make the same mistake again. This was the tipping point, something had to be done. He would not be beaten again.

“I know you believe that you are invincible but it is an arrogant belief, and I will prove it to you, as I will not let you steal my cuddles again.”

His opponent’s bright knowing eyes slid away from him as she licked her paws indignantly, paying no attention to his ‘threat’ in the slightest. 

San scoffed a shocked gasp. “How dare you—you feel no remorse do you?! You will do it again—you believe there’s nothing I can do to stop you! Well, mark my words I will get my hugs and kisses before you can get a word in edge-ways, you under—?!” 

A flat click resonated through the apartment as a key was slid into the lock on the front door. The creature before him immediately sat up, head raised and ears turned towards the origin of the sound, before she scarpered across the sofa towards it.

“Hey—wait—!”

Before he could even reach the doorway into the next room, the speedy lump of fluff had disappeared, followed by the creak of an opening door and concluded with a scream mixed with cooing.

“Awww, hello babie! How’s my lil sweet lionheart hmm? Yes I’m back now! I missed you too sweetie, I know you want cuddles, let me put my stuff down first ok?”

San crumpled to his knees upon the rug. It was littered with cat hair, only reminding him further to resign himself to his fate—one of which he couldn’t have even imagined back when he’d agreed to get a pet. He understood all the pros and had weighed the cons carefully but it still hadn’t been enough. He was being replaced by a cat. What a way to go out.

“Love, I’m—! Oh, you’re right here, hello!”

So preoccupied in his own wallowing he hadn’t noticed you head further inside until you chirped a greeting. You were smiling your classic beam that always raised his spirits, hobbling towards him as you tried to slip off your shoe without using your hands. Confused as to why you were making life harder for yourself he didn’t have to look far as there, cradled in your arms like a baby, was none other than his nemesis.

“Awww, was Sannie giving you a game?” his girlfriend cooed at the cat, who responded by rubbing her cheek against your shoulder. You continued to baby talk to her as you glanced at your boyfriend still moping on the rug, “Aw, baby, are you and Sannie getting along now? Are you playing well together?”

When he didn’t answer despite the fact it was aimed at him, the small clues fell together like a jigsaw and you were left sighing, “San, were you bullying the baby again?”

“What? No!” he spluttered, at last pushing himself off the floor, “Of course not! What do you take—she’s bullying me!”

“San, really?” You shook your head incredulously, stroking the cat’s with the back of your finger. “Honestly what is up with you? Why don’t you two get along? You’re not jealous are you?” you snickered. 

You had been joking, teasing almost, with the last part. It seemed too nonsensical—who got jealous of a cat? It made no sense. 

Cats were amazing, yes, and you knew it. You totally understood why people often chose cats and other pets, because they were just so good; they were soft and fluffy and adorable and warm and offered company even if they couldn’t talk so to speak. Each one had their own personality and preferences, it made total sense. However, to you, your boyfriend was all of that plus more—well, minus the fluffy bit for the most part, but his hair was! He was kind and supported you in a way that only another person could, he understood you and you couldn’t imagine life without him—hence why you suggested adopting a pet together. How could he be compared at all?

And yet, as soon as those thoughts crossed your mind you took one look into his guilty eyes and realised that that was exactly what he was doing. 

Unfortunately the empathy part didn’t quite make it into your reactions in time. “Oh my god you are!” you exclaimed, mouth hanging open as you watched him face sour into a scowl. 

“I am not jealous.”

You shook your head earnestly, a guilt-humour concoction fizzling in your gut. “No, San, wait, it—!”

With lips pressed shut he turned his back and strode off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. Exhaling carefully so he wouldn’t hear you let your cat down onto the sofa. She appeared confused, little head tilting upwards to question why you would abandon her so, leading you to hush her with a scratch behind her ear, “I’m sorry sweetheart. I love you very much I promise, I’ve just got to sort out the bigger baby of the house real quick, I’ll be back.” 

Leaving her to her own devices as you chased after your boyfriend, you found him rummaging around aimlessly in one of the cupboards, mumbling the words ‘stupid’ and ‘silly’ to himself. If you hadn’t known he was grumpy then this would have been a dead giveaway. Listening carefully to what he was muttering, you worked out that he was having a go at himself rather than anyone else, and that sealed the deal for you, relief tingling in your chest.

You approached him, rolling your eyes and hiding the smile that kept threatening to twitch at the corners of your lips.  “San?”

He turned but didn’t look at you because his head was kept down, having finally procured an old glass at the back of the cupboard. As he headed towards the fridge you spoke up again. 

“Ok, so, if you’re not jealous, then what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that my girlfriend loves a cat more than she loves me!” he whirled around, features hardened yet wet at the same time, before the regret dripped from his face much like the colour did. He swallowed thickly as he waited for you to call him out as he knew he deserved.

“So... you are jealous, then.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, a bite in his blunt confession. He didn’t look at you, feeling like he’d made a right fool of himself which now thinking about it, probably didn’t help his cause whatsoever.

Unable to stifle it any longer, you let out a breathy chuckle. Yes he was a fool, but he was your fool and you wouldn’t want him any other way. While making your way over to him his mouth opened, but you cut him off before he could speak by reaching up to cup his jaw gently with your fingers and planting a kiss on his cheek. 

“That,” you began, placing one on his other cheek, “is not,” and another upon the tip of his nose, “true,” you finished with a chaste one upon his lips. As you pulled away to find he seemed to gravitate towards your touch, you got your words out before he could interrupt them with passion of his own. “I love you more than anything else in the world, Choi San, and no one or thing can change that, so don’t you ever doubt it or yourself again, ok?”

He nodded and his hands swept to your back pulling you in close like he wanted. His kiss melded with yours heavily this time as the crease of his concern slowly faded away. His caress was laced with sincerity as he ran his hand to stroke your back, body melting into you.

His love would never get old, you knew that, just as you hoped his touches would never cease. His lips were warm, his embrace comforting and he smelt of home; there was nothing more that could make you happier.

When you pulled away, your breath thoroughly stolen, you leant your forehead against his as you ran your hand through his hair. Once he’d pressed a light-hearted kiss to your nose he whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “It’s ok, I just can’t believe you were jealous of a cat. She doesn’t even do anything!”

“Yeah, I know, it’s silly,” he gushed, “please don’t tell the others.”

“Well,” you pretended to think over on it, until his softened eyes widened and you decided to ease up on him if only a bit for now, “only if you don’t tell them about the time when I dropped paint on the floor and cried while trying to scoop it back up with my bare hands.”

He brought up his pinky for you to take, “Deal?”

“Deal.”

After interlocking your fingers, you took advantage of how he was leant against the counter top and laid your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him like a teddy bear. He reciprocated by nestling his cheek into your crown while his fingertips played with the ends of your hair. He twirled the locks round the pads, easing knots out of them and very gently tugging every now and again, knowing full-well how therapeutic you found it. 

“So I’m guessing this means you want more hugs and kisses,” you finally uttered, words flowing effortlessly as you relaxed fully.

“Yes, please.”

“Wow, even more?” you chuckled, inhaling deeply, “Do you want them before the baby gets them?”

San hummed. “I mean, ideally but I suppose she usually beats me to it.”

“I dunno, you could sit by the door and wait for me to come home—”

“Like a dog?”

“No, not like a dog. You’re not much of a dog… now a puppy? That’s more like it.”

“What—?!”

“I’m only teasing. So do you want the baby talk too?”

“NO!”

~~~

AN: i wrote this out of the blue from a random idea i had in the morning. meanwhile i cant write anything long even tho i plan them out and have many ideas literally every week for them. make it make sense, please.

Masterlist

[heartbreakgrill]

Circles; Harry Styles Pt. 2

“Remember Frankie? From World History? She has a baby now,” you remarked, voice like lyrics over the rhythm of your white tennis shoes and Harry’s leather boots stepping in time on the concrete bike path.

Leaves occasionally fell, crunching under your feet, sticks and stones on the path being kicked or broken away. The fall wind blew gently, waving strands of your air in front of your face. You had decided against lipgloss, luckily because your hair was so unruly. Harry’s curls, a beautiful feature of his which you always admired, were flopping with each step. You found your eyes trailing from his cheek to his hair consistently, simply admiring. He didn’t catch on much, his own focus glancing between you and the ground beneath his feet.

Lunch had been wonderful. He took to you the local pub, where you sat in the corner, knees bumping against each other after every movement. You shared a basket of fries, ate your own sandwiches and drinks. You caught up on everything: Your studies in London, who your friends were these days, the last boy who broke your heart. He told you about Louis and Niall, and only a little of Liam and Zayn. He explained the sketchiness of his management, the stress of touring, but his excitement on stage. You admitted to have listened to his two albums the night before and told him Little Thins became a quick favorite. You told him about your plan to move to New York when you finished University in order to delve into the world of international journalism.

After lunch, you didn’t want to leave one another, lingering in front of the door, still chatting, when you remembered the local bike trails. (“Gosh, I haven’t been there in forever.” “Same here.”)

So, now, you were strolling along, hands in pockets and elbows bumping somewhat. He replied to your comment about a forgotten classmate with, “God, its strange to think about people we know having children. Were only 19.”

You shrugged, “That’s normal around here, I guess. People settle down straight away, let go of their dreams for simpler, easier things.”

“I could’ve done that,” Harry spoke with a whispery tone. “Sometimes I wish I would’ve.”

You didn’t want to poke and prod at a comment that could turn into something bigger and moved on. “You’ve got money. Be happy.” Of course, this was a joke.

Harry laughed, “Money cant buy happiness.”

“Oh, I’m sure it could buy mine.” He glanced at you inquisitively. “Well, Im constantly stressed in London because of work and school. Its stressful and exhausting paying for my apartment and class and food and life.”

Harry frowned somewhat, “That’s part of the reason I hate it sometimes. I’m so lucky and undeserving of all I get just because I can sing and I’m attractive. You work so hard for what you have and you still struggle. It’s unfair.”

You retrieved your hand from your pocket and pushed him lightly, “I’m just confused as to who said you were attractive.”

He blushed deeply, his eyes downcast and shy. Suddenly he met your eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “You did say I was cute.”

Your own cheeks quickly turned red. “I’m gonna avoid my problems.” Your pace quickened and you began to walk away from Harry.

He giggled, emitting a grin on your face, and walked fast. Harry reached out and grabbed you around the waste, spinning you around in his arms. You caught yourself on his shoulders, feeling his warm breath combat the cold on your cheeks. He grinned cheekily down at you, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t lie,” you unashamedly spoke. “Ive always thought you were cute. Hell, the only reason I came to the bakery so much was because of you.”

“What about the muffins?” He mused.

“Harry, a girl gets sick of eating muffins every single Saturday for 2 years in a row.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist gently. But, then, his eyes fell slightly, his lips molding into a frown. His grip loosened and he almost stepped back. But, he didn’t. “Do you wanna go on a date tomorrow? With me?”

“I’d really like it if you could get Niall’s number for me, but I guess you’ll do,” you whipped your head around in exclamation.

He scoffed, laughing loudly, before pulling you against his chest. You just stood there, hugging each other lightly, though you were shivering in the breeze. Soon after, he walked you home and even kissed your cheek prior to leaving. You giddily walked up to your bedroom, bare of much decoration because of your schooling situation. You closed the door and leant against like a heartsick teenager. You felt the same way you did two years ago, head over innocent heels for some stupid boy. You didn’t know if this would work, given your future career and his present one. You didn’t know what his favorite color was, but he did telll you his favorite way to drink tea. You didn’t know who his childhood cartoon crush was, but you knew that when he looked at you, your stomach was in flames.

You didn’t know what you would regret in the future, as no one does. So you decided to jump.

-

Harry had definitely gone on Pinterest.

When you opened your door (only knowing he would be arriving at the time he did because you spent the entire afternoon, night, and morning texting one another) you immediately smelled the sweet fragrance of men’s cologne. It was nice, slightly overwhelming, but nice nonetheless. He held a bouquet of red roses, your favorite because you told him you were a fan of cliches. He wore a jade green button-up, short-sleeve dress shirt. It was obviously new, given away by the fact that there were creases in his sleeves. (His favorite color was ocean blue, by the way, and yours was the color of his shirt.) In his other hand was a picnic basket, which he held up to you after he handed off the roses.

“It’s freezing outside, Harry,” you giggled whilst motioning him to step inside. He did, following you into the kitchen.

You set the roses up in a vase as he replied, “I know. But its okay because I have a really nice idea.”

“Okay, I trust you,” you spoke reassuringly. You turned towards him from your spot by the counter.

Harry’s eyes trailed over your figure, clad in a long-sleeve, ocean blue wrap top tucked into a pair of blue jeans which stopped just above your black ankle boots. Gold jewelry dangled above the neckline and from your ears, your hair tied up in a low messy bun which took too much effort. “You look lovely, by the way.”

“You, too,” you grinned, meeting his eyes. “Guess we both thought of impressing one another.”

“I went to three different stores to find this,” he spoke as you began to lead him back to the front door.

“Uh, me, too. Don’t act so special,” you grabbed your coat off the rack and slipped your arms through it. Harry laughed.

You bid farewell to your parents, who were watching television in the living room. They gushed over Harry, about to ask him a million questions when you said, “Dinner reservations, sorry, got to go!”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door. You didn’t let go, and neither did he, but he had to in order to open your door. You hadn’t expected this and hesitantly slid into the passenger seat. “Thanks.” You told him once he started the car.

After a few moments of adjustable, comfortable silence, you piped up again, “So, where exactly are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

You arrived to a park two towns over after half an hour. It was massive, with lookout spots all over the hills. He parked in one with the trunk of his mum’s car facing out over the countryside. He opened your door for you, again, and led you to the back of the car.

“Okay, Ted Bundy,” you giggled lightly, walking ahead of him.

“Oh, please, I dont want to kill you,” he scoffed, popping the trunk. “At least not until the nights over.”

“Why not?” You held his eyes, not yet looking to the trunk.

He shrugged, “Because I have to get a goodnight kiss first.”

He left you stunned, cheeks red and eyes wide. Harry sat down in the trunk, leaning back against the pillows and blankets decorating the small space. You grinned at him, as he was awaiting your reaction. He leant a hand and helped you settle next to him. You both crossed your legs in order for him to set the picnic basket down. He shut the trunk, the heater cranked up and the radio playing.

“Were wasting so much gas,” you laughed, shedding your coat.

Harry took it from you, folded it, and set it on the folded down back seats. He took off his own, “Dont worry about it. I’m rich, remember?”

You tossed your head back with a loud laugh. The hours flew by from there on: He had made finger sandwiches, which you ate with liberation, and homemade lemonade packaged in a thermos. His mother helped him melt chocolate and cover strawberries in it. He had even made a mini cake at the bakery and packaged it all nicely for you two to share. You talked about everything you hadn’t already discussed: Music, books, television, his supporting act on tour, your favorite professors. You told him about your dumb job waitressing, about the lady who had tipped you one-hundred euros.

Once you were done, you helped him pack up the trash. He set the picnic basket in the front seat before shutting off the car. The sunroof was closed, but the stars were visible through it. He laid down on the blankets, head smushing the pillows. You sat there for a moment, feeling slightly awkward, before he motioned for you to lay down, too.

You cleared your throat, face hot and body stiff, before doing so. There were barely a few inches between you, but Harry made sure there were none. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tugged you into him. You took the liberation to lean your head on his chest and lay your arm across his stomach. No words were exchanged, but they didn’t need to be. Everything that you could learn had probably already been said: Deeper stories, moments, could be exchanged later. A bond was now established and you already knew what was coming.

For now, you could only enjoy the moments that he was here: His hand in yours when he drove you home; hand in yours as you led him to the front door; lazily smiling down at you; a gentle, comforting hug; his eyes flickering between yours, your lips; his breath fanning closer until he stole his goodnight kiss.

“Guess you can kill me now.”

TAG LIST: @mantlereid , @boxofteenageideas , @dinosaursandsocks @ashhdaniellee95 @heartbreakcity @sadhwstudent

[theokotrain]

Vestige - Interlude: The Party

Wattpad Version

As the night fills the sky

All my fears are dissipating

'Cause I feel reassured

That I might make it through

And if all my luck should burn

Then I guess it burned for you

---

April 13th, 2012

I was sitting on my bed, back against the bed frame with my knees raised in front of me, holding up my laptop. I had been spending the last few hours writing an essay for my English class, specifically answering the topic question my teacher had given everybody: "How do our past experiences influence our decisions?". The question was simple enough, it's a pretty universally recognized idea that stuff that happens to us has an effect on our decision making. I mean, that's what it means to grow, right? You gain more knowledge as you live through life and form new memories, and that helps you make more informed decisions in the future.

I've never really been too good at writing anything analytical, especially non-fiction. Essays and research papers that required informed arguments that helped to prove your point? Those were an entirely unknown game to me, one which I had never managed to breeze through. Of course, we were supposed to use some of the books we've read this year as evidence for our arguments, so that at least made it a bit easier, even if most of the books were ones from nearly five decades ago and definitely out of touch at this point. The sound of my laptop's keys clicking as I typed away were the only sounds I could pick up in the room. I had my earphones in for a bit, but those always hurt my ears after a while, so I had taken them out.

Looking at the time in the corner of my laptop screen, it was 4:43 PM. I started writing as soon as I got home from class, so I've only been going for about an hour. Unfortunately, this essay is a non-insignificant amount of my course grade, so I needed to finish this as soon as possible.

God, it's a Friday! I could be out doing something actually fun with Shae and the other guys. Isn't that the whole point of high school? That's what it always seemed like in movies, at least, but I guess I've been a victim of false advertising.

After a bit more time passes, the sound of my phone ringing from my desk brings me out of my writing trance. I sigh, setting my laptop next to me on the bed, not wanting to get out of bed, but eventually forcing myself into maneuvering over to the desk, I grab the phone and flip it open, looking to see the Caller ID.

Shaela.

I instantly accept the call, it's almost second nature at this point. She calls me at least once a day so she can tell me about whatever person is pissing her off that day, or whatever drama she's heard from her other friends. I was never really one for gossip, or whatever, but I did appreciate talking to her.

I put the phone up to my ear, "What's up?" I say, a tinge of fatigue in my voice.

"Hey! Just warning you that I'm like five minutes from your place and you don't have a say in the matter." She replied bluntly. I can hear the sound of cars driving by on the other side of the phone, so she's obviously outside, confirming her words.

I take a deep breath before speaking, "...Why?" I said with exasperated sarcasm.

"Because! I have something to tell you, and if I say it over the phone then I seriously doubt it'll work out in the way I'm hoping it does."

"That clears up nothing, actually, and now I regret picking up."

"Even if you didn't answer, that doesn't stop your parents from letting their son's lovely goody-two-shoes of a friend stop by for a visit!" She exclaimed, a mischievous tone subtly layered in her voice.

She's not wrong.

"Wow, you make this sound like you're sneaking into a high-security building or something." I say, utterly confused at her motives. "Obviously you can come over, but I'm not exactly filled with confidence at whatever you're planning."

"Like I said, I can't tell you yet, but it's gonna be awesome!" She said. There was an unusual perkiness to her that made itself pretty clear over the phone.

Before I can say anything, I'm met with the dial tone, signalling that she had hung up. The only thing I can do at this point is wait for her to get here, I guess. She always lets herself in when she comes over, so I don't make the effort to meet her downstairs. A sudden ping sound fills the quiet room, seeming to come from my laptop. I get back into bed, looking to see where the notification came from.

It's a message from Tyler.

He's definitely the newest member of our little group, if even that. I'm the only person in the group that he's actually friends with so far, despite my efforts to bring him along on any plans we all make. I only met the Grey Wolf back in February, at the beginning of the second semester, in the school's photography class. Nobody I knew signed up for it, and due to our prestigious high school's advanced budget for technology, we were forced to be paired up for shared computer use in the Photography Room. I suppose Tyler was also fortunate enough to not know anybody in the class, as we ended up being paired together by the teacher. He was definitely someone I could only describe as uninterested, as the first week or two I spent with him in that class consisted of him either giving me one word answers or answering in the most blunt, bored tone he could manage. Though, it seemed that it took a bit of persistence on my part to push him to be more open, and since then he's grown to be a pretty great friend.

Tyler: u goin to that party tonight ive been hearin about?

Party? I wasn't made aware of anything like that, at least... not yet. Something in the back of my brain was telling me that Shae had ulterior motives about coming to my place so suddenly, but I'm still hoping that I'm wrong. I hate parties.

Jake: party? havent heard anything, are u going?

Tyler: thinkin about it

think its gonna be over at chris's place, guess his parents r gone for the weekend or somethin

Jake: chrisssss? ughh that guy is such an asshole

Tyler: yeah u dont havee to go, but itd prob be more fun to have someone u actually know there

The way he worded that was directed at me, but I could tell he didn't want to go on his own.

Jake: i guess ill think about it

Tyler: sickk, call me if u make up ur mind

Before I can type my farewells over IM, Shaela energetically bursts through the door.

"Jesus! You scared the shit outta me, don't you knock?" I said, mildly exasperated.

"Oh come on, I literally called you a few minutes ago, you had plenty of time to not make a situation where it'd be a bad idea for me to barge in," She replies, laughing, before setting her bag on the ground and dramatically falling into my bed. "Today was garbage."

"What happened?"

"Ugh, Claire decided to just not show up, I guess, on the day we're supposed to present that stupid History project? And, obviously, she didn't give me her part of the project or anything, so I had tell Mr Thomas about the situation, which was fucking embarrassing." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Luckily, he said he wouldn't reduce my grade for handing it in late, since I actually had my part finished. God, what a bitch- I must've called her like thirty times before class to get her to email me her part, and every time it went straight to voicemail - and she told me last night that she'd have it ready for today!"

"Have you gotten a hold of her yet?" I asked, closing my laptop and setting it beside me.

Shae turns her head to me, shaking her head, "Nope, she's been ghosting me all day."

"Sounds like typical Claire."

"Yeah, I shouldn't have partnered with her, but apparently I can't say no to anyone, so..." I chuckle lightly in response. "Anyways! I didn't just come here to complain to you!" She says, sitting up on the bed, now facing towards me.

"Right... So what was so important that you just had to tell me in person?" I say, sarcastically.

"Like I said, if I asked you over the phone you would've definitely said no, and my ability to pressure you into doing things isn't as effective unless it's in person!" She responded.

I subtly rolled my eyes, but it's clear she noticed from the stare-down she gave me, "Okay, so what is it?"

"Soooooo..." She says, trying to find the rest of the words, "There's a party."

Wow.

"Wh- did everybody know about that party except for me?!?" I exclaimed.

Shaela's face quickly turns to an expression of shock, "Who told you?"

"Tyler did, like, not even five minutes ago." I say, bluntly.

"What? How does he know Chris?"

"Friend-of-a-friend, I'm guessing?"

"Hmm..." She hummed, thinking about something, "So, did you tell him you were going?"

"I specifically said I'd think about it, nothing definite." I made it clear in my tone that I wasn't particularly interested.

"Oh, come on, dude! It'll be fun!"

I didn't really have an interest in going, but I know it'd make Shae happy, plus it'd be nice to hang out with Tyler again even if we've only known each other for a couple months.

"...Fine. But, if Chris or any of his buddies start shit, I'm leaving."

"Awesome!"

"Lemme just call Tyler and let him know," I said as I grabbed my phone and flipped it open, finding Tyler in my contact list and dialling.

"You gonna bring him with-" The phone rings a few times before he picks up and I extend my hand out towards Shae in a shushing motion. She rolls her eyes, smirking.

"Hey? So are ya gonna go?" He said eagerly.

"Well, Shae showed up at my door literally right after you messaged me, asking the same thing!" I exclaimed in a fake-preppy voice. "So, I guess I have no choice since she'll probably just drag me there if I say no," I joked. She nods her head toward me in response.

"Oh, is she going too?" He inquired.

"Yeah, I guess so! Your place is kinda on the way to Chris', so we could probably meet you at your place and go from there."

"Yeah! Sounds good!" He quickly responded.

I laughed, "Okay, we'll call you when we get there?"

"Sure thing!"

We exchanged our farewells, and hung up. The party wasn't for at least another hour or two, so Shae and I had some time to burn, of which I was entirely out of ideas. I figured I could at least spend this time actually being productive, so I grabbed my laptop and continued on writing my English essay as Shae resumed her previous conversation topic of stuff at school that was pissing her off. It was pretty entertaining, to be fair. She was telling me about how Chris had gotten in a fight with this other kid in our grade yesterday after class, which I wasn't lucky enough to witness, but it was obviously all anyone would talk about for basically the entire day today so word spread around fast. The part I hadn't heard about was that both Chris and the other guy, Nathan, got suspended for a week because of it. Chris was generally an asshole to everybody, including myself, so I didn't feel too bad about that. Although, I didn't know Nathan all that well. Other than having a few classes together, I don't think I've ever held an actual conversation with the guy. I think it was safe to assume that Chris was the one who started it, and Shae seemed to agree with me, even though she hadn't seen the fight either.

"But, apparently Nathan's gonna show up tonight!" She exclaimed coyly.

"...Remind me again why you want me to go to this specific party?"

"You'll have a great time! It's not like we'll be involved in the drama anyway so think of it more as entertainment!"

"I think you and I have different definitions of the word 'entertainment'," I joked.

"I'm sure you can go run off somewhere with Tyler if you're not having fun," She said, her tone reminding me of my mom.

"Oh yeah? What about you?"

"I can't just leave Alex at a party with Chris, those two start shit between each other so much and I'd rather not deal with the aftermath of that today."

"I'm guessing it's safe to assume that Elliot's going too, then?"

"He's not big on parties, but he'll usually go if everyone else is, unlike somebody," She says, gesturing towards me.

"Good one," I reply, unmoving as I keep typing away at my assignment.

"Well, we should probably leave soon since we're stopping at Tyler's place on the way.

I saved the document I had been working on, closing my laptop. "Sounds good to me!"

---

"I can't believe you actually agreed to go." Tyler joked as we walked towards the road from his house.

"Yeah, me either." I replied. I definitely didn't put in any effort in dressing up for the party, opting for a snug space-themed graphic tee, along with black jeans and a white zip-up hoodie. Shae and Tyler both stand on opposite sides of me as we walk down the sidewalk.

"Luckily I learned the subtle techniques in convincing you to do things against your better judgement, so now you get to have fun for once!" Shae exclaimed.

"It's not my fault that going to a party is literally the last thing on earth I'd do for fun in any normal situation." I retorted, putting my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

"Oh yeah? And what do you consider a 'normal situation'?" Shae asks.

"Any situation where you guys aren't the ones trying to get me to go! I'm only doing this for you two, y'know." I said, looking over at both of them.

"What about Elliot and Alex?" Tyler chimed in.

"They aren't the ones asking me to go to this party." I sarcastically remarked, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted. "Speaking of the party- this is Chris we're talking about, there's gonna be beer, right?"

"Uh, duh?" Shae replied.

"Yeah, that's a definite no for me, I'm already enough of a disappointment to my parents,"

"No one's making you drink, Jake. At least you'd be safe if some old hag called the cops about the noise." Shae said.

"I think at that point we're guilty by association, so we'd just make a run for it if that happens," Tyler joked.

"Dude, the chance of me outrunning a police officer successfully is about as likely as me not wanting to punch Chris tonight."

"And the chance of you winning that fight is just as low!" Shae retorted, Tyler laughing in response.

"I specifically said 'want' because of that very reason!"

"Wow, I'd pay money to see you fight that guy." Tyler said, nudging his elbow into my side.

It isn't a secret that I'm not exactly athletic. I mean, I'm definitely not weak, but fighting basically any animal of a similar size to mine was not a situation that favoured my victory.

"That sounds more like just getting the shit kicked outta me for your entertainment." I remarked, lightly punching Tyler's shoulder in return.

"Absolutely worth every penny!" Shae exclaimed. Luckily, the place wasn't any more than ten minutes away from Tyler's place, so I didn't have to endure listening to these two talk about me getting beat up for much longer.

We finally make it to Chris' house, and I'm suddenly filled with an impending sense of regret. Obviously, my parents would never in a million years agree to me going to a party like this. As far as they know, I'm just spending the evening hanging out with Shae at Tyler's house. So yeah, this entire night had a lot of potential for disaster.

Shae can clearly see my hesitation, because she grabs my hand, leading me up the walkway, Tyler following closely behind.

"I wonder if Elliot and Alex beat us here?" She says, knocking on the front door.

"I doubt they had anything to do earlier, hell they probably came straight here after school, knowing Alex." I said, laughing.

Our conversation is cut short by the opening door, revealing the familiar black cat.

"Oh, look, the Stephenson kid brought his girlfriend!" Chris exclaimed mockingly, looking back into the house, before peering around my shoulder, "And... Tyler?" He said, inquisitively.

I lean over, blocking Tyler from his line of sight, "Yeah, hey, not dating by the way!" I said. I've known Shae since I first moved to Vestige, around the time I turned five years old, so it wasn't uncommon for rumours to go around that we were dating. I've always thought of her more as a sister, if anything.

"I asked them to come!" Tyler said. That was only partly true, but according to Tyler, they've been 'somewhat-friends' for quite a while now, so saying that would at least mean less mild-harassment from Chris for tonight.

"Oh, uh, okay... come on in! But you're on the hook for any shit they pull, Tyler!" He said, opening the door wider.

---

The party had been going on for a few hours at this point. I could recognize most of the animals here from school, but not enough to actually hold a conversation with any of them, so most of my time here had just been spent with Shae and Tyler. The place hasn't been incredibly crowded luckily, but there were easily about forty others in this part of the house alone. I'm assuming only high school grades were invited, but there were a considerable number of students to meet that requirement. The issue at hand for me, other than how crowded this place is, is that both Shae and Tyler ditched me to go... somewhere? I think Shae saw some of her friends and went somewhere with them, but Tyler was pretty secretive about where he was going, only telling me that he'd be back in a bit. So I've been standing here in this random corner of the house with a drink in hand, trying to make myself look busy and not awkward, which is exactly why I didn't want to go to this party in the first place!

"Jake!" A voice shouted from a ways away.

I turn my head in confusion, revealing Alex, walking towards me from across the room.

"Oh, Alex! Hey! What's up dude!" I finish the last bit of my soda, waving at him. Because this was Chris' party, there was obviously beer too, but I didn't feel like coming home drunk and my parents finding out.

"I didn't think you'd wanna come to something like this! Feeling the regret yet?"

"I like parties! It's the times like these when I'm standing in a corner by myself with nothing to do that I hate, which seems to happen every time I go to a party!" I exclaimed, pausing for a moment. "Okay, maybe I do hate parties- I've had to explain this so many times today I'm about ready to jump into Lake Ambuscade."

' "Wow, sounds like somebody needs to socialize instead of stewing in a corner for the rest of the night!"

"Socialize? Really? I know just about everybody here and just about none of them are worth talking-"

"Hang with me and Elliot, then? Justin set up some racing games in the other room, we were gonna join, but we could use a fourth... You in?" He said, his tone obviously trying to sound coercing.

"God, please, anything to get me out of this corner for the next three hours." I said, Alex returning my words with a laugh.

"Well, come on then! We'll have to hurry if we want to get one of the good controllers!" He exclaimed, motioning to follow him.

As we move through the various cliques, I recognize a few faces here and there, though not enough to actually want to talk to them. There's been music playing since we got here, and I have yet to recognize a single song, they all seem to be some form of drone-y bass-heavy music that I can't say I've heard in any normal situations. I'm doing my best to follow Alex, although he keeps weaving between the other animals faster than I can keep up, resulting in me having to shove past everyone near me in an effort to speed myself up. Luckily, it seems that no one notices me anyway.

When we arrive in the other room, it seems to just be another living room, but decorated with a galore of punk band posters, shelves holding more DVD cases than I would ever care to count, and even a mini-fridge. Maybe Chris is the type to have a 'man cave' or something? Just hearing that phrase almost makes me want to vomit, but there aren't any more accurate words that come to mind. The room isn't massive or anything, but the TV resting upon the wall across the room seems to challenge that idea, looking almost eighty inches in size. Luckily no randoms from the party were in here, sitting about ten feet away from the TV is Elliot, leaning back in a purple bean bag chair that seems almost three times bigger than him, and Justin, the cougar I'd only known slightly through Alex, laying down sideways on the couch directly in front of the gigantic screen.

"Whatttt! You took the bean bag chair? Lameee..." Alex whined.

"You're the one who wanted to go get Jake, you snooze you lose!" Elliot retorted, looking oddly proud of himself.

"Damn, wish I had a room like this at my house..." I mumbled, looking around the room.

"Are we gonna play or what?" Justin said, cutting through the momentary silence.

"Duh!" Alex claimed.

Justin sits up, taking the spot on the couch closest to Elliot. I opt for the leftmost seat, and Alex sits in-between the both of us. Elliot grabs the other three controllers and tosses them over at us, one by one. Luckily, there weren't any garbage third-party controllers, so at least none of us would have to deal with that. I will admit, it did feel kinda weird going to someone's party just to play games away from everybody, but I would be lying if I said I didn't prefer that, even though I rarely play games, if ever.

After Justin turns the console on, he goes through the menus, launching the game. I can't say I recognize the title, but it seems to be a pretty standard racing game. He goes into the custom mode, opting for a four-player split-screen match, choosing 'R1' as the category of cars to race in. As everyone chooses their cars, I scroll through the list, not really knowing what to pick. I've never been good with car stuff, so I pick an 'Aston Martin Lola' just based on the number-rating system the game ranks the cars with.

"You guys ready?" Justin asks.

"Oh yeah, get ready to eat my dust you guys!" Elliot exclaims, challengingly.

"Oddly prideful words for someone about to lose!" Alex replies, laughing.

The countdown begins, as the cameras slowly show the view of each car as it moves to the rear. When it starts, I somehow manage the fuckup of spinning my tires out, leaving me a few seconds behind the others as the car swerves back and forth. I curse under my breath as I try to regain control of the car, and swiftly pick up speed. The track seems like nothing I haven't seen before, a typical professional track, with rows and rows of audience seating to the side. Unfortunately, I'm now in last place. The next few moments of the track are a few quick corners, allowing me the chance to catch up, at least a little.

Unexpectedly, the track turns off of the main road, going into a forested area. The road is considerably more narrow at this point, so it takes a conscious effort to not drive into the trees by the asphalt. It looks like the road stretches on forever, as I still can't make out any upcoming turns. I guess the car I chose for the race had a better top speed than Justin's, as I'm quickly catching up to him, moving into third place. I'm gripping my controller to an uncomfortable degree, but I can't seem to relax the tension as I try to make my way into second place. I don't think I can pick up any more speed in this car, so me moving up is reliant on the road staying straight for just a bit longer. After what feels like a lifetime, the front of my car finally starts making it past Elliot's, then the midsection, and finally, I'm in second. The sound of all four car engines is drowning out any remnants of the video game music, and I feel the sudden urge to curse out whoever turned the TV volume up this high. My eyes are focused entirely on Alex's car as I make my final push into first place. If I were actually driving this fast in the real world, I'd be scared out of my fucking mind. Out of nowhere, Alex, and the others, begins to slow down considerably.

Oh fuck.

It's at that point I notice that there is a sharp right turn rapidly approaching. I've been pushing the top-speed of this car since the beginning of this stretch of road, and now I'm going too quickly to stop in time. What's the button to use the handbrake, again? I figure that the only way for me to not fuck up this race for myself is to try to drift around the corner. Considering I've never played this game before, it's going to prove to be a challenge. But, it's either that, or just ending up in dead-last again.

I hold down the A button, and pull the joystick as far to the right as possible. Suddenly, all I can hear from the game is the loud skidding sounds of my tires against the asphalt. To my surprise, I cut the corner a bit early, now going over the grass. I try to do a bit of directional-corrections and start heading back onto the track. Going over the grass definitely slowed me down a fair bit, but it definitely was a significantly better outcome over just crashing into the wall. And, to my surprise, the corner of my screen reads... first?!?

"How the fuck...?" Alex questions, seemingly in disbelief.

"I wish I could tell you." I replied, eyes wide at whatever the fuck just happened.

The distance I managed to gain on Alex isn't by a whole lot, but there's only about a quarter of the track left before we reach the finish line, so I have a chance at winning this. The track hurriedly changes from the forest as it reenters the main track. The long, straight roads seem to end as the road becomes a slow series of sharp turns, never giving me the opportunity to get back up to speed. It seems like the high top speed was my only advantage, because at every corner we take, I turn my camera around, revealing the other cars inching closer and closer to me.

I can see the finish line on the mini-map, just a few more turns away. I know that I'm not gonna be able to distance myself from Alex and the others at this point, so my only feasible strategy is to keep moving, cutting the corners as fast as I can, and getting to the finish line before they can pass me. Unfortunately, Alex's car seems to be getting too close for comfort now, meaning I might have to take some risks to ensure I can stay in first. As we approach the final turn, leading into the finish line, I realise I'm gonna have to try to drift this corner. I can feel my pointer finger practically cracking the plastic on the controller from the amount of pressure I'm putting on the right trigger. In a final plea to win, I push down on the A button, pulling the handbrake. The car starts to smoothly skid around the corner. Luckily, there are barriers on the sides of the road this time, preventing me from sliding onto the grass. To my surprise, the drift seems to work better than expected. That is, until, like the fucking idiot I am, make a slight overcorrection towards the left barriers as I exit the drift. I managed to avoid driving directly into the wall, but it did slow me down a bit.

Alex is immediately behind me, and I put all of my strength into accelerating towards the finish line. I'd be fucked if I broke the controller, cause I can't really afford the fifty dollars to buy a new one, but winning this race is more important to me at the moment. The finish line is only about five-hundred metres away, and Alex is slowly beginning to pass. All I can do at this point is push the gas as much as I can, and pray that I can cross the finish line before he can get back into first place. The finish line gets closer and closer, and it seems like it's gonna be too close for me to accurately tell the winner. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest from how stressful this fucking game has been, and now, we're about to find out whose efforts paid off. As each car makes its way over the finish line, each of our dedicated sections of the screen turns to slow motion. When it's finally over, the text fades in on each screen, revealing our place...

...

...

...Second?!?

"FUCK!" I shouted, realising I had been holding my breath since the final stretch of the race.

"HA! Dude, you suck!" Alex exclaimed, playfully shoving me.

"I think that was the most effort I've put into anything in my life." I said, setting my controller on the coffee table in front of me.

"Wow, that's dramatic," Justin remarked.

"Yeah, that's the usual for Jake," Elliot replied, laughing.

"You probably woulda won if you picked a better car, dude. That track was way too close-quarters so you should've gone with a car with better acceleration." Alex said.

"Wha- do you own this game?" I questioned, looking accusatory.

"...Yeah? It came out a few months ago, pretty popular right now." He replied.

"Ugh, this is what I get for playing with a bunch of gamers." I exclaimed, applying a disgusted tone to the last word.

"Not my fault you only play like one game a month!" Alex joked.

"Even then, I was like this close to beating you anyway!" I said, gesturing a minuscule distance between my thumb and pointer finger.

A voice interrupts our argument, coming from right outside the room, "Uh huh...

...

Really? That's bullshit! Come on...

...

Dude, give me a couple of days, I'll make it right!

...

Yeah, I swear."

It seems that we all stopped talking to listen in at the same time. "That sounds like Tyler... who's he arguing with?" Elliot asked. I can't make out the voice of whoever he's talking to, it just sounds like mumbling.

They seem to pause for a moment, and the sound of a single set of footsteps can be heard.

"Fuck..." Tyler says to himself, still out of view.

"...I should probably see what's up, you guys can keep playing without me." I say, getting up from my spot on the couch.

"Yeah, you do that! Less competition for me," Alex exclaims, laughing to himself.

"Hey, I can still beat your ass at this game, I know exactly which car to pick this time!" Elliot argued.

"Yeah, right! Guess we'll find out!"

I leave as the three start up another game, kind of glad I don't have to have another near-heart attack from playing again. When I get back into the dimly-lit hallway, Tyler is nowhere to be seen.

I look around, heading into the main room of the house to see if I can spot him. It's pretty difficult to see anything, because of how dim it is here, plus the sheer amount of animals crowding up the place. Despite that, I manage to spot the Grey Wolf a ways away, hurrying quickly into the bathroom.

As I shove my way through a few groups of teens, I almost fall over a few times, gaining confused stares from a few in the room. I lightly knock on the bathroom door, waiting for a response, "Hey, you okay Tyler?" After a few moments, I'm returned with no answer, "...Tyler-" Before I can finish my sentence, Tyler swiftly pulls open the bathroom door, pulling me in and shutting the door behind me, before sitting down on the side of the bathtub. As I'm about to say something, I hear the sound of him sniffling.

...Is he crying?

He's looking towards the floor, so I can't confirm it visually, but the sound definitely gives it away.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Did something happen?" I asked worriedly, not yet choosing to bring up the argument we overheard.

There's a few seconds of silence as he tries to bring himself together, not very successfully. "I- I... I don't- I don't think I can-"

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I tried to reassure him. He raises his head for a moment to look at me, trying to find words to say, instead opting to go back to crying, head in his hands. I've never been good with situations like this, so I sit down next to him, putting my hand on his upper back, softly patting.

"I'm sorry- I'm a fucking idiot. I shouldn't have asked you to come."

"Hey! I've been having fun! Don't worry about me, it seems like you're the one who shouldn't have come." I joke, in some effort to lighten the mood.

Shit, was that inconsiderate of me to say?

To my surprise, he manages to let out a light laugh, "Yeah, I'm starting to realise that."

"...Do you wanna leave, then? They know I didn't want to go here in the first place, so you could just say you're being nice and walking me home." I didn't know if he would actually take up that offer, but I know some guys have a weird thing about not wanting to seem 'uncool' and leaving a party early was definitely considered that.

He thinks for a moment, still sniffling pretty noticeably. "...okay, just- give me a minute, I don't want to go out there looking like this." He mumbles, looking towards the door.

"Yeah, that's fine." I said, continuing to rub around his neck area.

This definitely wasn't how I expected the night to go. But it was a sort of 'two-birds-with-one-stone' kind of situation. I get to help out Tyler, which is usually the other way around, I get to leave early, and hopefully Shae stops bugging me about going to parties, at least for a while.

Now that I think about it, that analogy is pretty messed up.

A few silent minutes go by as I sit next to the still-crying Tyler, waiting for him to recollect himself. Even though he hasn't actually said anything here, in the two months I've known him, this is probably the most vulnerable I've ever seen him. When I first met him, it was pretty accurate to describe him as the kind of guy who acts like he never feels emotion. Hell, even I refuse to be open about my feelings, but most of my friends see through that nowadays. Even now, I don't really understand why I do that. I guess it's just easier to not talk about shit like that? Is that why Tyler does it?

"I think I'm good now," He said, shaking his hands as he stood up.

"Okay, let's get out of this dumpster fire." I sarcastically remarked. Tyler shot me a confused look in return. "Whatever, let's just go."

I open the bathroom door, grabbing his arm as I lead him out into the main room. Almost immediately the voice of a certain black cat perks up behind us.

"Oh? And what did you two get up to in there?" Chris remarked, laughing, "I didn't know you guys were THAT kind of friends!"

God damnit. This stupid fucking feline.

"Yeah, it's too loud out here for me, I needed a break, he came with." I explained, Tyler standing closely behind me with a confused look on his face. Just roll with it, dude, I think to myself, knowing I probably shouldn't say that out loud.

"You know, I would believe that, but normal guys actually just go outside when they need a break." He replied.

"Well, hey! That's where we're going right now, so it all checks out!" I say in the bitchiest voice I can muster.

"Heh, sure thing, Jake." He said, sounding weirdly satisfied with himself. I didn't want to spend any more time in this fucking house than I needed to, especially while talking to Chris, so I continue on, pulling Tyler by the hand towards the exit. After a few moments, we make it to the front door. I promptly open it and we both head outside.

We're immediately greeted by the light of the moon and the starry sky as we head down the walkway toward the street. One of the few benefits of living in such a backwater town was the absence of any significant light pollution. I've been to Portland a few times for school field trips and such, and seeing the sheer difference in visible stars was absolutely staggering. I could only imagine what it would be like to go stargazing in the middle of nowhere.

"At least it's a nice night out." I said.

"Yeah..." Tyler replied, his mind clearly in a completely different place.

"I should probably tell Shae where we went, so she doesn't freak out trying to find us back there." I joked, pulling out my cell phone. Texting on my flip phone was an arduous task, but I didn't want to call her, so I had not much of a choice.

I send the text, and close my phone, returning it to my pocket. As we walk down the road, we stew in the silence, the only auditory sounds coming from the party still close by, and the local crickets chirping.

I won't lie, as much as I usually appreciate quiet, this is the loudest silence I've ever been stuck in. It goes on for more than five minutes. I could tell he wanted to say something, and I was eager to find out whatever was going on that started this in the first place. But, like the coward I am, I try to lighten the mood.

"Hopefully that satisfied your quota of me going to parties with you for a while, cause I do not plan on having the energy for something like that again for at least a few months." I said, awkwardly laughing. He doesn't respond, at least for a while, as he raises his hand, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "...Uhh, are you sure you don't wanna talk about it? I mean-"

"Can I tell you something?" He interrupted, his voice still cracking like it was in the bathroom.

"...Sure?" I replied, slightly confused.

"It's just that- I don't really know- like what-"

"-to say? Just think for a minute. No rush." That's what my dad always says whenever my mind spirals. I used to be really anxious, although I've been getting better at controlling my thoughts in the past few years.

When I went to text Shae a few minutes ago, my phone's clock read 9:48 PM. I'm supposed to be home at ten and we're still at least twenty minutes away, not even including the detour we'll take to get to Tyler's place. Which brings me to the realisation that, when we get to his house, I'm gonna have to walk the rest of the way home by myself, in the dark. If I get murdered by some serial killer this late at night I'm gonna fucking haunt Shae from the afterlife-

"I think I'm gay," He quickly says, his voice holding a noticeable increase in energy compared to what I've been used to tonight.

Well... can't say that's exactly what I was expecting. Was I expecting anything in particular? I honestly don't know anymore. His words took me by surprise, my brain is kind of scrambled right now. I look over at him - he's looking back at me, probably trying to gauge my reaction. I did my best to conceal any facial reaction, but it's pretty clear that my lack of a response is starting to become noticeable.

"...You... think?"

"Well, like- I don't know. I guess I've just been thinking for a while, and it makes sense... all things considered." He replied anxiously.

"That- That's great! Does anyone else know?"

"I only really realised a few weeks ago, so... no. But compared to anyone else, I probably trust you the most to not like- tell anyone?" He said, looking over at me again.

"Well, I appreciate the completely undeserved confidence you have in me," I joked, realising too late that now probably isn't the time for that, "Yeah, I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you," He replies, a genuine smile strewn across his face.

A few minutes go by as we walk down the road, absorbing the positive energy we created. Having only known Tyler for a little over two months, it definitely surprised me knowing that he trusted me more than anyone else to keep a secret like that... I mean, despite the short amount of time since I met him, I'm as close to him as I've been to Shaela for the past eight years. Maybe even closer? I barely even tell Shae about my actual problems, at least the non-surface level stuff. So yeah, I guess it makes sense that he would trust me with something so important, I know I would absolutely trust him if it were me in that situation.

"...So, do you think you're gonna tell your dad?"

He didn't say anything for a moment as he stared down at the ground beneath him, "I'll probably have to tell him soon, if he has to find out from some asshole that isn't me it'd make it ten times more difficult than if I just said it myself."

I agreed, and we let the conversation cut itself off as we finally approached Tyler's house. I followed him up the walkway and stood on the patio, making sure he actually got inside. He tries the doorknob eagerly, to no avail. Realising that it was locked, he reaches into his pocket for his key - again, to no avail.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Tyler mumbled under his breath, clearly done with tonight. All of the lights were off in the house, signalling that his dad was not awake.

"Maybe you'll wake him up if you knock? Then he can let you in."

"Nonono, he thinks I'm staying at your place! If he finds out I went to a party I'm in deep shit," He whispered.

Of course. If I had to lie to my parents, why would I expect anything different from anyone else?

"Okay, uhh... maybe we can make that lie... not a lie?" I said, sounding weirder than I'd like.

Tyler looked at me, confused for a moment, eyes widening as he realised what I meant, "I can't let you do that, I've already forced you through too much shit tonight."

"Oh, come on, of course you can sleep at my place for the night! My parents think I'm at your house right now, so I can just tell them that we both went over there early in the morning. They love you anyway, so it won't be a problem!"

He didn't move at all, still looking reluctant, "Are you sure it won't be... weird? I don't want to put you in an awkward situation cause of w- what I told you."

"Dude, that couch in my room has a hide-a-bed if you don't want to share mine. Either way, we're friends, aren't we? I trust you."

After a few moments of silence, he speaks up, "...I guess so-"

"Great, then it's settled!" I said, putting my arm around his shoulder as I led him back down the walkway.

---

Once we make it to my place, walk up the creaky wooden steps of my patio as I fish the house key out of my pocket. Tyler's standing closely behind me, looking awkward as ever, clearly not knowing what to do with his hands as he switches between putting them in his pockets and clasping them together.

I turn the key on the lock and try the door, noticing that It's completely pitch black inside the house. My parents usually go to bed at 10 PM, and it was well past that at this point. I lock the door behind us as I reach for my pocket, grabbing my phone and flipping it open to use as a barely-useful flashlight. I take Tyler's wrist as I lead him through the furniture of my living room and up the stairs. The only sounds in the house come from the soft ticking of a clock in the kitchen, the sound of which has always freaked me out whenever I'd come downstairs at three in the morning. Despite my best efforts to be as quiet as possible, the old wooden boards of the stairs prove my effort to be futile as they creak with every step. I can only hope that both of my parents have fallen asleep by now, or else they'd definitely have heard us. As I take Tyler down the hallway, walls strung with various family photos and art fit for a motel, I hear no sounds coming from the master bedroom, relaxing some of my tension.

Once we make it to my room, I breathe a sigh of relief as I turn on the overhead light, hoping my mom doesn't find out and try to lecture me in the morning, "Okay, hide-a-bed or mine, your choice!"

"Hide-a-bed." He replies.

"Sure thing, lemme show you how to set it up," I say as I remove each couch cushion one by one. The couch is sitting directly under my massive bedroom window, illuminated by the glow of the moon. Under the cushions is a black folded-up contraption, bearing a metal handle. I grab the handle and start pulling the bed out from the couch. As the first section of the bed comes out, Tyler stands next to me and helps unfold the second section, and finally the third.

I move over to open the closet door, "I have some spare pillows and blankets in here."

"So, why do you have a spare bed... thingy... in your room anyway?" He asked.

"My cousins' family came to visit from the other side of the country a few years back, so my parents made the cousins stay in my room and gave me our old couch that used to be in the living room. They were here for like two weeks, it was fucking awful," I remarked, pulling a comforter out of the closet and unfolding it out on the mattress.

"That sounds miserable," Tyler sympathized.

"It was, but hey, now I got a sick as fuck couch in my room! And it works as a great place for certain friends to sleep when they wanna spend the night," I said sarcastically, looking over at Tyler as I grabbed the pillows from the closet, tossing them to one end of the bed.

He turned his head, baffled, "Was that a dig on me?" He questioned.

"Depends on how you took it I suppose," I replied, smiling cunningly.

"You're the one who offered, dude- are you sure you didn't drink at the party? You've at least doubled your usual level of sarcasm." He retorted.

"Nope, unless somebody spiked my soda!" I joked, but the realisation slowly set in, "Oh shit- maybe someone spiked my soda?!?"

"Don't freak out, I seriously doubt someone would spike your drink,"

"God, I hope so, if my parents found out I went to that party, that'd be one thing, but if I got drunk? I doubt I'd see the outside world for months," I sighed.

"Even if you were drunk, it's not like you would still be drunk in the morning for them to find out, anyway."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said, letting out a yawn shortly thereafter. "Fuck, I didn't realise how tired I am." Looking at my alarm clock, it was 10:37 PM. That wasn't terribly late, I've definitely stayed up later when there was an assignment due the next day that I forgot about, but even before I met up with Alex and Elliot, that party was just wearing me down. "At least I can sleep in 'till like noon tomorrow. You sure you don't need anything before I pass out from exhaustion?"

"No, I'm okay, I think. And, thank you... Jake." He replied, smiling at me.

"No problem, dude!" I quietly exclaimed as I turned off the bedroom lights and hopped into bed. I can practically feel my muscles dissolve as I lean into the mattress, pulling the heavy blankets over me as I close my eyes.

I can't help but feel something itching in the back of my brain. I never did find out why Tyler was even crying back at the party. Was it related to what he told me after? He sounded pretty upset when he was talking to whoever it was in the hallway, too, so maybe that was why? We've already talked about so much shit tonight, though, and I definitely did not have the energy to have another huge conversation about something like that. It could definitely wait until tomorrow.

Soon, I feel my consciousness drift away, the only sound I can make out being the slow breathing of Tyler, across the room.

---

As I wake up, I'm blinded by the bright sun shining in through my windows, directly into my eyes. I glance over at my alarm clock, feeling incredibly groggy and sore, noticing that it's 11:13 AM. Usually, the latest I'd sleep in on weekends was only around ten, but I guess it took a lot of my energy yesterday to try to tune the party out. At least it's over.

I slowly sit up, yawning as I lean back against the bed frame. I glanced around the room, noticing that the hide-a-bed had been folded back into the couch, Tyler nowhere to be seen. I reach over to my bedside table to check my phone, finding an unread text from him, sent a few hours ago.

Tyler: hey

woke up early, figured youd want 2 sleep in.

will call u later, might have somthin big i wanna share, will see

A pair of oddly cryptic messages. Guess that confirms he isn't here anymore.

At least it was a Saturday, meaning that I had full permission to be a slob. I get out of bed, deciding to skip my usual shower until after breakfast. Other than the snacks that were out at the party, I ate practically nothing last night. I could almost feel my stomach turning itself inside out, so I hurried out of my room and downstairs to the kitchen to have some breakfast.

The first thing I notice when I get downstairs is my mom, sitting on the couch with a book. I head straight to the kitchen, trying not to make myself stand out.

"Jake! Finally woken up, I see." She remarked, still looking at her book.

"Hey, mom!" There's a moment of silence as I grab a bowl out of the cupboard, as well as a box of cereal, and begin to pour.

She speaks up, "Your friend, Tyler, seemed to be in a hurry to leave this morning, anything I should know about?"

"...Not that I know of? Like what?" I questioned as I poured some milk from the fridge, grabbed a spoon, and sat at the kitchen counter.

"Well, it's not like we didn't notice that you weren't home by ten like your father asked you to be, so obviously you must have a good excuse for why you didn't at least call to let us know you'd be late?" She replied. I could tell when she started talking all responsible-parent-like, it meant that she was gonna lecture me about something.

I sighed, thinking of the right thing to say. "...Well, Tyler was going through some things... so I was trying to help him with that, I guess. Time just kinda flew by and I wasn't able to get home 'till later."

"So he spent the night here? Weren't you at his house?" She asked as I ate a spoonful of cereal.

"Yeah... we went out for a bit and once I noticed how late it was I offered to let him spend the night at our house since it was closer," I said. Almost entirely a lie, but definitely preferable to the truth.

"Jake..." She said, setting her book down on the coffee table in front of the couch, walking over to me, and resting a hand on my shoulder. "You're sixteen now, obviously we don't expect you to tell us everything you're up to nowadays. But we worry about you! I worry about you. Just for future reference, please let us know if you're gonna be home late or anything like that."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," I said, looking up at her.

"Great! Now, I have to go meet a friend for lunch, please try not to burn the house down while I'm out!" She said as she grabbed her purse and keys off of the counter, hurring out the door.

"No promises, love you!" I said as she closed the door behind her.

Well, I guess that went... better than expected? I doubt she believed that story I made up, but I guess as long as I don't break curfew without telling them, I should be fine.

Having the house to myself wasn't totally uncommon. Considering my dad was gone during the day five days a week, and my mom would head out to go meet friends or run errands pretty often, I got some much needed alone time often enough to not go mad.

As I finish my bowl of cereal, I realise that I probably should go shower as soon as possible, considering the night I had. I put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and head back upstairs. I grab a towel from my room and head into the bathroom, grabbing my various fur care products out of the cabinet for after the shower. As I turn the shower on, I hear the sound of my ringtone going off in the pocket of my pants on the floor. I sigh annoyedly, walking over and trying to figure out which pocket my phone was in. When I flip open the phone, the Caller ID reads out Tyler's name.

"Tyler! What's up?" I ask eagerly, hoping to find out what the news he cryptically texted about was.

"Jake- fuck, I messed up, I shouldn't have- what am I gonna do?" He said anxiously, sounding almost out of breath.

"Hey! Slow down, what's wrong?" I questioned.

"I'm such a fucking idiot! Why did I think this would be a good idea? Jake, I'm so sorry-"

"Tyler! Calm. Down. Just take a few deep breaths," I said. After a few moments, I can hear his breathing steadying on the other side of the call. "Okay, good. Now, what's wrong?"

There's a short pause as he tries to find the right words to say. It sounds like he's been crying. What even the fuck has been the past twenty-four hours?

"Can- do you think I could crash at y- your place for a few more nights? I don't know what to do."

[calumance]

LA Devotee - Part V

Warnings: Angst, Cussing, that’s about it

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Emily is excited for what she has convinced herself is a date with Calum, however that comes crashing down incredibly quickly.

A/N: Oooooh man, this is probably one of my favorite parts of this story (so far) I hope you all enjoy it! Feed back and requests are literally always welcomed!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

       On Friday after work, I bid Mikayla a goodbye and stepped into the Uber I had requested. As I sat down, I brushed off my skirt. While I was getting dressed this morning, I specifically planned and outfit that was appropriate for work but was also dinner date worthy. I had picked out a black and white striped pencil skirt, a black, loose fitting, tank top with a coral colored blazer over the top. A pair of black ankle boot wedges to top off the whole look. Maybe the outfit was a little over the top, but I thought maybe I could spice up my look a little.

           As the Uber pulled up in front of Calum’s house, I thanked him and concentrated on my steps to not roll my ankle on the way up to his house. Not that I wasn’t used to wearing high heels, high heels were a part of my normal work outfit, I just wore flats to walk to work. I’m just saying that it would be my luck to eat shit while on my way up to his door. I rang the doorbell and fixed my hair while waiting for him to come to the door. When he opened the door I suddenly felt completely overdressed. He was wearing the same pair of black joggers he was wearing the morning after we met when he was on his way to the studio, and a plain black t-shirt that was probably three sizes too big for him, and the grey beanie. All topped off with a Coors Light in his hand.

           I looked down at myself as he looked me over. “You look really nice. Come on in.” He motioned into his house and I reluctantly walked past him. Just as he closed the door I looked up and noticed three boys sitting in the kitchen, laughing at each other. Fuck, this isn’t a date is it? I put my hand on my face and as Calum started to walk past me I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to come towards me. “What’s wrong?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

           I let go of his wrist and motioned to myself. “Maybe I should go home and change. I came right after work, and I thought,” I stopped myself, how could I have listened to Mikayla and thought he was asking me on a date. I felt like a complete idiot, and I felt like crying.

           Calum tilted his head to the side waiting for me to finish, “Thought what?”

           I waved my hands dismissing my last thought, “Nothing. Maybe I should just go home and change really fast.” I turned to leave, trying to get to the door as quickly as possible.

           He must’ve known that if I walked out the front door, I wouldn’t actually be returning in more comfortable clothes, because Calum caught my hand and pulled me close to him. His cologne filling my nose, causing me to feel dizzy. “You look fine, don’t mind what we’re wearing. The guys insisted that they meet you.” They insisted? What has he been telling them? Calum grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the kitchen and stopped so that all three boys could see me. Calum let go of my hand and I crossed my left arm over my right and then laced my hands together in a weird twist, then mimicked my arms with my legs. “Guys, this is Emily. Emily this is Michael, Ashton, and Luke.” I knew who they were the second I laid eyes on them, however, that did not make this situation any better. They all waved at me, and I sheepishly waved back. “Do you want something to drink? I have those drinks that you have in your fridge, bought them specifically for you.” I nodded and he pointed over to where the guys were sitting, “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, I’ll bring you a drink in a second.” He pointed toward the table and then left my side.

           I watched as Calum waltzed over to his fridge and pulled out the Smirnoff Ice’s that I keep in my fridge at all times. There is a million in my own fridge, so I wasn’t exactly surprised that he noticed that I liked them. After a second I took a breath and took a seat next to Luke, across from Michael. I apologized to them for being so overdressed, but they brushed it off. Just as Calum set my drink down in front of me, the doorbell rang. Calum went to answer the door and I watched him, watching his back muscle flex with every arm movement. I ducked my head feeling the flush across my face. On the other side of the door was a delivery guy holding a large bag of Chinese food. “Calum hasn’t stopped talking about you since you two met the last weekend. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Luke said in a hushed tone, bringing my attention away from Calum and to him. He smiled and then looked back at Calum to make sure he didn’t hear anything.

           I swallowed hard and looked at Luke, “It’s nice to meet you too.” Just as I was about to say something else to Luke, Calum came back over to the table holding onto the bag full of Chinese food. He sat next to me and passed out the food. While everyone grabbed their food, I sat on my hands, a bit nervous and still utterly embarrassed at the fact I was convinced this was a date. Calum nudged me and I smiled at him, trying to put on a face that everything was fine. I put on a good face, I’ve always been unapologetically good at faking it. It helps that my mom drilled “fake it ‘til you make it” in my head since I was little. Every joke that was told, I laughed in response, and whenever someone talked to me, I talked back. In all honesty, I did have a good time, but I was ready to go home and curl into a dark corner.

           One by one the boys started to leave, Ashton being the last one to leave. I stood up and pulled my skirt down realizing we were now alone. “I think I should be heading out too, thanks for inviting me over to meet the rest of the guys, I had a great time.” It was a half lie.

           Calum stood up, his eyebrows pulled together, and set his drink down, “You don’t have to go, Emily. I was thinking we could have a few drinks outside before you go?” He pointed to his backyard as I seriously considered staying. In the midst of my thinking, Calum had taken a few steps closer to me, “I’d really like it if you’d stay for a little while longer.”

           My heart raced, my guts telling me to dart, but my heart telling me to stay. “Listen, Calum, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay.” I took a step back and shook my head, playing with my fingers in nervousness.

           He tilted his head and took a step towards me to make up for the one I took away from him, “Why would it not be a good idea for you to stay? It’s just a few drinks.” He chuckled in confusion.

           I ran my hands through my hair in frustration and dropped them to my sides, my palms making a slap as they hit my thighs, “Because I am probably the biggest idiot in the world.” I spat, “I’m going to go home, I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I waved my hand and walked towards his door, the only sound being my shoes clacking on the tile floor. I flung the door open and unlocked my phone to request an Uber home. My feet kept going until the Uber was confirmed and that’s when I stopped. As I crossed my arms over my chest, I looked behind me in the direction of Calum’s house. He hadn’t run after me like some sort of cheesy romance movie, not like I had expected him to, but it would’ve been nice.

           Instead of standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, I called Mikayla. I wanted to direct my rage at her, she’s the one who convinced me this was a date, but this was also my fault. My right hand held my phone to my ear while my left pointer finger ran down the bridge of my nose in frustration. When she answered it took everything in me to not start yelling. Instead I started crying, “It’s wasn’t a date, Mikayla. I showed up and Luke, Michael, and Ashton were all there. Which, it was cool to meet them, but why did I let myself think this was a date? I knew I wasn’t ready, and I got all excited, I got all dressed up, and they were all in sweat pants. Holy fuck, Mikayla, I’m the biggest idiot on the planet.” My chest heaved with a sob and I felt like dropping to the pavement. Instead I squatted, putting my weight onto the heels of my shoes for balance. My hand sitting on my brow ridge to hide the hurt on my face.

           The Uber pulled up and I pushed myself up, and composed myself enough to get in the car without looking insane. “Oh, Emily. I’m sorry, this is all my fault. Maybe it’s still too early? Sweetie, just give it time.” Maybe she was right, but maybe I was right to think I was a huge idiot. As soon as I got back to my apartment, I kicked my shoes off and walked into the bedroom. I wasted no time taking off the outfit I had specifically picked out for today and crawled into bed, covering my face and crawling into a black hole of sleep.

           Mikayla tried to get me to do something on Saturday night, she had suggested going out to dinner. However, I decided to stay home and watch TV, and get absolutely black out drunk. When my phone rang, waking me up, I realized I was still on the couch and it was morning. Smirnoff bottles scattered all over my coffee table. My head pounded and I realized that even though I thought about going to bed, I never actually made it there. My fingers fumbled trying to find my phone, when I opened one eye to look at the screen, I saw Mikayla’s name and picture on the screen. I placed my free hand over my eyes and declined the call, placing my phone on the floor where my arm fell. The weight that had sat on my chest so long after my divorce had come back. The weight that told me I still wasn’t good enough for anyone, the weight that made me feel miserable at every point of every day, it was back. Once I put my phone on the floor, I didn’t move, I couldn’t move. Not only because of the weight, but because this was all over a guy I met a week ago.

            I put my hand over my face and tried to remind myself how much of an idiot I was being. My hand ran down my face then dropped to the floor as I groaned. I used the leverage of the floor to push myself and roll onto my back. My eyes opened and I squinted, not a fan of the daylight pouring through my windows. Maybe I wasn’t a complete idiot, It’s not like he’s made the effort to call me or text me since I literally ran out of his house. On the other hand, Mikayla has been blowing my phone up since I hung up on her last night and decided not to take anymore of her calls until I saw her at work again. My hands connected with my face again as I tried to rub the headache away. A voice inside my head, the one telling me I was an idiot, told me to get off the couch and make some coffee. I obeyed and pulled myself off the couch, causing an immediate wave of nausea, causing me to grab my stomach and run to the sink. It’s never ideal to throw up in a sink, but sometimes you have to when it’s the closest thing to you. After I completely emptied out whatever bit of contents I had left in my stomach, I started brewing a pot of coffee.

          As I walked down the hallway to my bathroom, I ran a hand through my hair. At least when I get stupid drunk, I do it at home, and alone. I quickly brushed my teeth and gargled some mouthwash and made my way back to my kitchen. My hands gripped the edge of the counter and I leaned back, putting most of my weight into my wrists while watching the coffee drip. After a moment I looked down at myself, all I had been wearing since I got home from Calum’s was underwear, a bra, and maybe some socks, I barely had the right mind to change my underwear. A part of me told me to put some clothes on, but, honestly, there was no point. It’s not like anyone was coming over anytime soon. A knock on my door proved that thought wrong, but thinking it was Mikayla coming to see if I was dead or something, I sauntered my way over to the door. She’s seen me at lower lows than this one, so it wouldn’t be a surprise to her if I answered the door practically naked. The headache still pounding in my head caused my eyes to narrow and my fingers to rub my temple. My eyes narrowed further as I swung open the door, ready for Mikayla to start yelling at me, causing my head to ring.

            However, it was a large surprise to me to find Calum standing on the other side. Suddenly, the headache washed away. I looked down at myself, “Oh, Fuck.” Without shutting the door, I ran down the hallway and slammed my bedroom door. My heart raced as I stood in the middle of my room trying to find something to throw on real fast. Sitting on the chair in the corner of my room was a pair of sweatpants. Frantically, I grabbed them and pulled them on, jumping my way into the loose fitting pants. My eyes scanned my room until I saw a white tank top hanging out of one of my drawers. I snatched it out of the drawer and pulled it over my head, adjusting it so that I was completely covered. When I came out of my bedroom, Calum was standing just inside the entry and the door was closed behind him. In all honesty, he looked amazing. His hair freshly washed, but not styled, a tight fitting forest green t-shirt, and a pair of grey sweatpants. I shook the thoughts of how attracted I am to him out of my head and cleared my throat, “What are you doing here?” I spat towards him, running frustrated hands through my hair.

          He tilted his head back not ready for the attack I just threw at him. “You hadn’t talked to me since the other day when you told me you were an idiot and stormed out of my house. I wanted to know if you were okay.” He played with the keys in his hands and I looked at the rings that adorned his fingers, a lump forming in my throat.

          I cleared my throat and looked away from him, running my hand up and down my arm, “You didn’t talk to me either, Calum. A call or a text would’ve done exactly what you’re doing.” I said with a hint of salt.

         He pulled his eyebrows together and dropped his hands. “Maybe I felt that was a little impersonal. Look, what did I do to upset you this much?” He snapped back at me, causing me to back down a bit.

         A sigh escaped from my chest and I looked up at the ceiling. “It’s nothing that you did. It’s what I did, it’s what I thought.” I decided that I no longer wanted to be standing in front of him, so I started walking towards my kitchen. I shrugged past him, making sure I didn’t touch him. With the rage burning in my stomach, I flung open the cabinet and grabbed a mug and aggressively set it on the counter.

        “Emily,” I continued to make my coffee, slamming everything like an four year old. “I’m not a mind reader.” He leaned against the entry into the kitchen and crossed his arms over his chest, then crossed one ankle over the other.

         I stirred my coffee vigorously, trying to internally debate with myself if I wanted to admit my thoughts or not. The spoon tinged on the ceramic mug and made a loud clang as it dropped into the stainless steel sink. I gripped the edge of the counter again and bit my lip. My eyes closed tightly and sprung open as the word vomit spewed from my mouth, “I thought when you had invited me over to your house for dinner, it was a date. Which is why I had dressed up and why I acted so weird. When I showed up and the guys where there I just realized how much of an idiot I was for thinking that. I’m sorry I acted the way I did, I just felt really fucking stupid.” Without looking at Calum, and without letting him speak, I grabbed my coffee and made my way to my balcony, throwing myself into the chair that is on its last leg.

          As I took a drink from my cup, Calum took a step onto cement pad of the balcony, just barely out of the door. He stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall. “When I originally invited you over for dinner, I had this idea in my head,” He looked out over the balcony, his eyes narrowed. “I’d have candles lit on the table, and I would’ve just finished making this amazing meal when you rang the doorbell.” He raised his eyebrows, “Then you and I would sit together and enjoy a meal together, and alone.” He emphasized his last word, then looked at his feet. “It was supposed to be a date, Emily.” I choked on my coffee and looked up at him. “The guys showed up unannounced earlier in the day, and as the time got closer to when you told me you’d get there, I was going to tell them to leave, but I thought that we had such a great time with your friend, that maybe we’d have the same type of fun with my friends.” He looked at me, the same sad look from the restaurant the other night. “I was hoping that you were going to stay so that we could actually have a date, but then you left.” He shrugged, then lowered his eyes to his feet again.

          I stood up, placing my coffee on the little glass table in front of me. The weight fell off my chest, but a sudden, overwhelming feeling of being a complete and utter jackass washed over me. If we were in a cartoon, my face would’ve turned into a donkey. “Calum, I’m sorry. I had no idea you tried to make it a date.”

         He waved his hand and smiled, it was a fake smile, but I took it, “It’s fine, there’s really no way you could’ve known. Listen, can I make it up to you tonight and take you on an actual date, one that we both know we’re on, and one that we’re alone for.” He raised his eyebrows and adjusted his stance so he was no longer leaning against the wall.

          A smile stretched across my face, “Yeah, I’d like that.” I felt my cheeks flush and I played with my fingers nervously, “What time should I be ready?”

          “I’ll be back around seven to pick you up.” He looked out over the balcony and then leaned forward so that he was close enough to whisper, “I think you should wear that skirt again.” He leaned away from me and a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” As he left, I could feel the burn on my cheeks, and then the panic of wanting to get ready set in.

[sprnklersplashes]

heart of stone (7/?)

AO3

Unlike most of his peers, Damian isn’t excited at all about moving out. There’s a lot he loves about living at home-having a mom who cooks him his own meals, not having to pay bills, living withing walking distance of his best friends and a not having to do his own laundry. All those little conveniences are things he’ll miss sorely when that day comes, but the biggest reason has nothing to do with any of that. No, the reason he dreads moving out is because he’s not sure if he’ll be able to find a roommate that will put up with his constant singing around the house. Especially around audition time.

Which is why now, he’s practicing his rendition of Dressing Them Up in his bedroom, his mom being incredibly cool about the whole thing downstairs and Janis on Facetime, earbuds in and bopping along with him and giving him more enthusiasm than the actual audience probably will.

“You sound great.” She’s sitting cross legged on her hospital bed in a sweater and leggings, her face more bare than it was yesterday, but her eyes still bright and laugh lines creased around her eyes and mouth. She’s still her.

It was tough, seeing her for the first time, but weirdly, it wasn’t nearly as tough as he thought it would be. Once he got past the strangeness of the hospital environment and the little emotional hiccup she had with Cady, he knew she’s still her. Hard situation, uncomfortable new world, but still his Janis.

“You think so?” he says. “I don’t know about this song. All the forums say it’s a really good song to audition for the Emcee with.”

“And it’s your party piece,” she tells him. “Remember freshman year, you sang it for my grandpa?”

“I miss your grandpa,” he sighs.

“I’ll let him know. He calls me weekly now.” She shifts on the bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Before he even realises what she’s doing, he checks her arm. No IV in there. Why does that make him feel better? “So do you think you’re going to change it?”

“Should I?” he asks, looking through his music. “The audition’s tomorrow. I don’t know if I can research and learn a new song by tomorrow.”

“Then don’t,” she tells him. “You’re overthinking it.”

“You’re telling me off for overthinking,” he says rather indignantly, raising an eyebrow at her. “This is the same girl who texted me at 2 in the morning for my opinion on a dog meme to send to Cady.”

“I needed a second opinion,” she says.

“Thought you didn’t need opinions,” he teases.

“Maybe I need yours,” she says softly, the grin on her face lighting up the screen. “Dick.”

“Don’t even love you,” he replies, blowing a kiss softly to the screen. Janis giggles, hiding her face behind her hand.

“Okay, you have the scene worked out as well?”

“I think so.” He picks up the extract from his bed. He’s done it for everyone, Janis, his mom, Janis’ mom, Cady, even the plastics. He learned that day that Gretchen is amazing at giving weirdly specific compliments and also knows more about theatre than he’d have guessed. Maybe in another life she’d be a drama geek like him. “It’s just an audition anyway. They’re not looking for the finished product. Just potential.”

“And you my good man are 6’2” of raw mother fucking potential.”

“Janis, language!”

“Raw mother freaking potential. Sorry, mom.” Somewhere behind the phone, Janis’ mom says something and Janis chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I’m not allowed to cuss in here. Since this is a ‘children’s ward’.” She quotes the word with her fingers. “Which is apparently where I belong.”

“You are a children,” he reminds her.

“I am older than you!” she spits back, laughter shaking her voice. She leans back on the bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. The joke slips from her face, leaving soft sincerity in its place. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t get nervous.” She raises her eyebrow at him, of course. By now she can see into his brain like there’s a little window on his forehead. It’s why he can’t bullshit with her, and conversely, why she can’t with him. “A little. I just really want a good role, you know. It’s our last show.”

“Which is why you’re going to ace that audition so hard,” she tells him. “Just don’t drink dairy in the morning and do your breathing before you go in. And stay away from the candy!”

“Pity you’re not here to remind me,” he says.

“True, but I did take the liberty of passing on all the info to Cady,” she tells him. “She knows what to do.”

“You’re a hero, babe.”

“Don’t I just know it,” she says. “Are you going to do the whole ‘dress for the part you want’?”

“Of course.” He runs over to his wardrobe and shows her the outfit he’d picked out for tomorrow, black silk waistcoat and black skinny jeans, his dance shoes in his bag. “What do we think?”

“Oh, that’s so sexy,” she tells him. “We need to bring waistcoats back to the collective again. I miss them.” Before he can answer, she looks beyond the camera, nodding along to a conversation he can’t hear. She casts an anxious glance at him, so quickly that he would have missed it if he blinked. “Okay. Okay, yeah fine, I know. Okay fine.” She turns back to him, letting out a long exhale that makes the hair on his arms stand up. He can’t help it; he has built-in parental instincts and they’ve been heightened ever since Janis went to hospital. So much so that even when she flashes up a peace sign and grins, it’s hard for him to grin back. “I have to bounce. Go get a good night’s sleep, ace it tomorrow, and tell the drama club that my services are still available.”

“I’ll let them know,” he says. He sits on the bed, tucking one leg under his body. He’s reluctant to let her go, their time together so precious now. “I love you, honey pot.”

“Love you more, bitch.” Her face freezes and then she’s gone. Not gone, he corrects himself. Just… not around for him right now.

“Okay,” he exhales, giving himself a shake. She’s fine. She said she was fine, she looked fine, she is fine. And she will be fine. She even said that she might be well enough to come see him in the show, all things going smoothly. The thought alone is enough to make him smile. Of course she will. The show won’t be for months anyway. He just has to get through this first. So he picks up his music and bounces down the stairs, ready to treat his mom and sisters to yet another rendition.

                                                                                               *****

It’s just after second period when the nerves do start to kick in. He’s not scared or intimidated, he can’t be he approaches auditions the way Cady would a calculus test, as a thrilling challenge to be overcome and a way to improve, whatever the outcome. But like he said to Janis, it’s his last year. He’s not gotten parts before but would be different. He wouldn’t throw a fit or leave the show if he didn’t get it, those types of divas make him cringe so much it hurts. But he can’t shake the idea that it wouldn’t be as special if he were in the ensemble in his last year. Besides, this is his part. Always has been.

“Hey.” He jumps off the floor, so wrapped up in his own thoughts he’d barely noticed the person sliding up beside him. He’s even more surprised when he sees who it is; Regina, wearing a lacrosse jersey over her white dress and a smile that’s uncharacteristically apprehensive. Since when did Regina George doubts? More to the point, since when did Regina talk to him? He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t even know his name until Cady told him. He just assumed he was ‘Janis’ gay friend’ to her, nothing more. The same way she’s nothing more than ‘asshole Queen Bee I’d punch given the chance’ to him.

“Hi,” he says flatly. Her smile falters at his tone, and he has to hide his own smirk behind his locker door. Someone clearly isn’t used to not being given the golden treatment.

“So… how’s Janis doing?”

And the surprises keep on coming.

“You care?” he snorts.

“Yeah, I do.” Her tone is more defensive this time, the familiar anger that’s become her trademark making an appearance. Somehow, she sounds more natural this way. She shakes her head and tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. “You’ve talked to her recently, I’m guessing.”

“Of course I have. She’s my best friend,” he fires back, suddenly finding himself on the defence. Heat prickles on his skin and he wants nothing more than to get out of this conversation.

“I just… wanted to know how she’s doing,” she says, her voice quiet and her arms crossed over her chest. He closes the locker door and looks at her, trying to find some semblance of the ruthless predator he knows rather than the timid, vulnerable creature before him. It’s unsettling, seeing her like this, and he’s almost certain it’s a trap. “So how is she?”

“She’s great.” He slams the locker door closed and now it’s her turn to jump. “Janis is doing great. And she’s being let out for a week on Friday. So, she’s great.”

“O-okay,” she replies. She picks at her nails, her eyes growing wide. It’s only when she takes a step back that he can breathe again. She gives an attempted smile and it doesn’t look right on her face. “That’s cool. That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.” He puts his bag on his shoulder and pushes past her. Admittedly, he does feel a little guilty here. Regina’s a horrible person, but she’s still a person, right? Maybe she is worried about Janis, that there’s some sincerity beneath the make-up.

No. Of course not. And if Regina wanted his respect, she should have started back in middle school. And in any case, why is he even thinking about Regina? He’s got way bigger things to worry about today than her.

He checks his phone at lunch, finding nothing from Janis. Which is normal these days. Normal re-adjusted pretty quickly and she’s just finished another round right about now, so she’s probably resting from that. Besides, no news is good news, as his mom likes to say.

“Damian. Damian!”

“Woah, yeah, I’m here.” He shakes his head, grabbing the side of the table. He really needs to tune back in today. Cady is sitting beside him, her hand on his shoulder and her eyes big with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says, patting her hand. “Just daydreaming, kid.”

“Okay.” Silence settles over them, tight and uncomfortable. It hurts. Janis’ absence hasn’t rocked their friendship at all, but at the same time it’s felt like there’s been something missing since the start of the year. And that there’s constantly something going unsaid with them. “When’s your audition?”

“T minus four hours,” he tells her. “They’re after school.”

“Speaking of I see you’ve broken out the two-litre bottle of water.”

“Are you kidding me?” he asks. “Honey, I am a professional.”

“A professional drama queen,” she teases. “You think you’re ready?”

“As I can be. My mom and sisters all gave me a standing ovation,” he says proudly. “And I think my cat liked it.”

“I mean that’s all the validation you need,” she says. “When you go into your first Broadway audition, all you need to tell them is how highly your cat recommends you.” They burst into laughter as Karen and a forlorn-looking Gretchen sit down next to them, Karen holding the other girl’s hand and looking helplessly at Cady and Damian.

“Hey, what’s up, Gretch?” Cady asks. Without a word, Gretchen slides a crumpled sheet of math questions over the table and lets out a huff. Despite trying not to look, Damian can’t help noticing the score at the top, and the “see me” written at the bottom. Cady’s face falls instantly as she takes in a sharp breath. “Well, it’s just the second week. And it’s one homework.”

“Oh, what’s the use,” Gretchen sighs. “I’m never going to get it. It’s all so complicated. I wish I had a brain like yours, Cady. You’re super great at math.”

“Well you’re good at stuff too,” Cady responds.

“Yeah,” Karen agrees. “Like you’re super good at English. And at picking out clothes.”

“I don’t think Ms Gardner will appreciate me picking out clothes,” she says glumly. “Besides, I need to get better at math this year. For one thing, my dad will totally kill me if I get another C.”

“Well… hey why don’t I tutor you?” Cady offers, changing Gretchen’s entire demeanour in an instant. She sits up and gasps, a smile breaking out across her face and lighting up the cafeteria.

“You would? Really?” she squeaks.

“Of course! I mean, I did all this stuff last year, so I know it well. What do you say?”

“Oh, thank you so much!” She reaches out the table and grabs Cady’s hand, and judging by Cady’s face, it’s stronger than you might think for Gretchen’s slight frame. “This makes me feel so much better.”

“What does?” Regina sits down beside her, looking from Cady to Gretchen and funnily enough, avoiding Damian entirely.

“Oh, Cady’s going to tutor me in math,” Gretchen explains.

“Oh, cool,” Regina says. “You know that’ll look great on a college application.”

“Yeah. I mean of course that’s not the only reason I’m doing it,” Cady replies, smiling at Gretchen. “But I know. All I’ve heard since we got back is ‘college applications’.”

“Me too,” Damian sighs. “And I am not looking forward to telling Miss Meyer I want to do theatre.” He rolls his eyes and mimics shooting his head.

“Oh, hey Damian, Cady?” Karen asks. “Can I ask you something.”

“Um… sure?”

“What kind of muffins does Janis like?” The four of them all fall quiet, Damian looking to a confused Cady before back at Karen, who seems to be the only one who sees the sense here.

“Muffins?” he echoes.

“Mm-hm. Well, I want to bake her muffins to cheer her up, and since you two are her besties, I thought you’d know,” she explains. “Trust me, there’s nothing worse than bringing someone the wrong muffins. One time my cousin brought my other cousin muffins that weren’t her favourite and I was so, so ashamed for her.”

“Oh, okay,” he says. Karen nods severely, apparently taking the muffins incredibly seriously. “Um… she really likes raspberries I guess. Oh, and white chocolate. That’s one of her favourite combos.”

“Perfect!” she chirps. “I’ll start shopping for those tomorrow. I told my mom about her and she said she might like something sweet.”

“That’s… really nice,” he says. Life with the former-Plastics is a surprise even after spending the summer with them. He isn’t sure how ‘former’ he’d consider them, especially Regina, but they’re softer than they were a year ago. Gretchen more caring, Karen more kind. Or maybe they were always like that and he simply didn’t notice.

As they get up to leave, he takes out his phone and checks it. Still nothing from her.

He walks Cady to her next class, the two of them being on the same floor.

“Should I wait for you until your audition’s done?” she asks him.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he says, patting her on the back. “Go live your life, little one.”

“Okay, but…” She rests her head on his shoulder and warmth sparks in his fingers and a stupid grin crosses his face. “Would you like me to wait until after your audition? We can go to the donut place after?”

“Did Janis tell you to do that?” Grabbing donuts after auditions to unwind has been their tradition since middle school.

“Well, yeah,” she says, shrugging innocently. “Just thought it would be cool. It’s what you always do, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course, totally. That’d be awesome.” They stop outside her history classroom. “Okay, I will see you later.”

“I’ll be in the library,” she explains. “You can meet me there?”

“Awesome blossom.” They have a quick high-five before he sets off down the hall to American Literature. As he goes, he finds a small but fierce sense of anxiety sparking in his chest and he can’t work out what it’s for. Probably the audition. After all, no amount of experience can chase away the terror of this process. Waiting around, learning and re-learning lines, sitting by his computer waiting for an email and fighting through crowds to see the cast list. He puts up a confident face, but that will never stop shaking him.

He takes out his phone again, just to check the time and location again. There’s nothing from Janis again, which is fine. Completely.

“Damian Hubbard.” He halts and looks up at the face of his Literature teacher, Mr Bock. He’s not great, but he’s not awful either. Once upon a time he may have actually liked kids. “Is that phone meant to be out during school hours?”

“No, sir,” he replies, sliding it back into his pocket and hoping for the best.

“Well come on, you’re in my class next and I won’t have anyone being tardy.”

“No, sir,” he repeats, doubling his pace and making it into the classroom, looking up at the clock as he does so. Just three more hours to go.

                                                                                               *****

He spends the time waiting for his slot breathing and doing small vocal warm-ups, enough to get him ready but not enough to irritate anyone else. As well as consoling a fearful looking little freshman kid. There are few things in the world that warm his heart quite as much as seeing new faces in auditions and watching them bloom during the show. He always makes sure to build connections with each and every one of them, taking up the role he wished someone had done for him. By the time Damian’s name is called, the freshman is grinning and his hands are nearly steady and he even whispers ‘good luck’ before he goes in.

“Afternoon all,” he greets the panel; Miss Petersen, the director/oldest drama teacher, and the perky little new one, fresh out of teaching college and rearing to go, as well as the choreographer and head of the drama club. Three familiar faces and one new, all smiling back at him. Something he tells every freshman; they want to cast you. He hands the sheet music to the girl at the piano and takes his spot, always remembering to smile and compliment her.

“Hi Damian, how are you?” Petersen asks.

“I’m great,” he replies. He clears his throat slightly, not having realised how tight it was. Did he not warm up enough? “Ready to go.”

“Okay so what song have you picked for us today?” the new teacher asks. Miss Hadsell, someone said her name is. She’s cute, with wide dark eyes and blonde hair in a messy braid. He wonders if she also takes art, he hasn’t seen her around the art room.

Then he remembers he hasn’t been in the art room this year.

“I have picked Dressing Them Up from Kiss of the Spider Woman,” he says brightly, bringing himself back. Here and now, that’s what matters.

“Good choice,” Miss Petersen says. “And you’ll be reading for the part of the Emcee?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay.” She grins at him, although it doesn’t really do anything to bring his focus back. What is wrong with him today?

He takes two deep breaths, and then another, and quickly shakes out his hands before nodding to the pianist. Once the song starts, he’ll be fine. Lost in the music, laser focussed. And he is. After missing the first note. He’s never missed a note before. Still, he manages to pick up the rest of it and keep going, throwing everything into it.

But it doesn’t feel enough. Like something is holding him back. Every time he’s sang this song before it’s come as naturally as breathing, the movements coming from him, not a character or persona. Now nothing feels right. Like he’s on a string and someone else is moving his limbs and every gesture is artificial.

By the time he finishes, it’s almost a relief. And he’s never thought that about performing.

“That was great!” Miss Hadsell says. “You must love that song a lot.”

“It’s an old favourite of mine,” he agrees. He can still bring this back. Maybe it was better than he thought.

He reads through two scenes for them before he’s asked to leave. At least those are stronger, partially because he knows them like the back of his hand. He feels more himself in them, or rather he feels more like the character. Even if his mind’s still a little fuzzy, it clicks for him. If only it could have happened earlier.

Rather than running right to the library and Cady afterwards, he sinks down onto a bench in an empty corridor, wringing his hands together. He doesn’t remember ever feeling that nervous or having an audition like that. Not even when he was a kid. Being in drama clubs since he could walk chased away the strong jitters that could affect him like that. So what happened in there?”

You know a voice in his head whispers. He goes to wave it off, but he can’t quite do it. Because what if there’s some truth in it. He’s worried about Janis, he’s only human. But he has it under control. She’s getting what she needs and she’ll be back with him by Christmas, and they’ll move forward like nothing ever happened. He presses his fist into his palm and bites his cheek. He’s handling it, and his own issues have never affected his performances before. Why would they now?

There’s no point in worrying now, he tells himself. It’s over, so just go home, tell everyone it was fine and whatever happens, happens.

It’s with that mantra that he gets up and heads to the library to pick up Cady.

                                                                                               *****

The next day is Wednesday and when he wakes up he’s suddenly immensely excited and won’t pretend he doesn’t know why. As his mom likes to say, ‘Wednesday is halfway to the weekend’. Which is enough of a reason to be happy in itself, but this means something more. It means it’s two days until Janis gets out of hospital and three days until they hang out again. They arranged it a few days ago; a movie night in her place, just like always, with blankets and pillows and junk food and an equal balance of musicals and old sci-fi and horror. So he can’t not be excited, so much so that it’s enough for him to block out the memories of his audition yesterday.

So when he half-walks, half-dances into the kitchen, it’s justified, and what’s more, his mom picks up on it.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” she remarks.

“Sun’s shining, birds chirping,” he replies as he puts on the coffee pot and pops bread into the toaster.

“Did you talk to Janis at all last night?”

“A bit.” He pours himself a cup and one for his mom. All the milk in his and one sugar for him, black and two sugars for his mom.

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s fine,” he says. “You know her. Tough as hell, fighting anything.” His phone vibrates in his pocket and it brings an instant smile to his face. “As a matter of fact that’s her now… oh…”

Janis’ message is a picture of the medical student, Jackson, fiddling with her IV, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Below is the caption ‘forgot to send you this yesterday. Thought you might enjoy’. And a winking face, of all the emojis.

‘Appreciated, thank you,’ he texts back. ‘Though I am debating the ethical ramifications of this.’

He probably won’t get an answer for a while. She tends to sleep in in the mornings.

“Her poor mother,” his mom sighs, seemingly to herself. He looks up at her, her hands tight around the hug and her head shaking. “I mean, poor Janis as well of course. No one deserves to go through that. But if anything like that were to happen to you…” She runs a hand through his hair, a fond smile along with her sad features. “God knows what I’d do.” There’s a small moment, a sigh, and then she kisses his head.

“Mom, you’re so mushy,” he sighs, not meaning any of it. Mushy is a well-established Hubbard trait passed from mother to son and he’s not ashamed of it, not at all. It’s that exact mushy-ness that gives him the capacity to love his friends the way he does and let them feel it every chance he can. He’d never trade it for anything. “I have to get ready. Don’t want to be late. Love you!”

When he gets into homeroom, Cady is bent over her notebook with her pens out, which strikes him as odd. Surely the study bee Cady Heron isn’t catching up on homework already. He’s not even catching up on homework yet.

“Hey.” He pulls on her ponytail, a far more amusing way of getting her attention that tapping her shoulder. She grins and looks up at him, stretching out her arms. “What are you working on?”

“Trying to make a schedule for tutoring,” she explains, handing it over to him. The page is divided into seven days and those into hour long slots, and true to form, everything is colour-coded. School is green, Mathletes is blue, and so-called ‘Janis time’ is purple. Her name is written in silver glitter pen rather than black ballpoint, and there’s a little star doodled in the corner. It’s nothing short of adorable, and Cady’s cheeks go pink as he knowingly catches her eye. “Gretchen says she can’t do weekdays, so I might squeeze her in on Saturday mornings.” She takes the page and tilts it, scrunching up her face. “Wonder how many more I can fit in.”

“How much tutoring does she need exactly?” he asks.

“It’s not just Gretchen,” she says, shrugging. “I just thought, well, why not expand it. See who else needs tutoring? I could make some money off of it. And it looks great on-”

“The college applications,” he finishes, earning an eyeroll from her. Still, they both smile. “I think that’s a great idea little slice. As long as no-one’s faking stupid to score a date with you.”

“Oh hush,” she chides, swatting at him playfully. “Besides, no one would dare. Half our grade is kind of terrified of Janis.”

“We all know she could still kick their collective asses.”

“Even hopped up on chemo, she could.”

“Yeah, completely.” Something shifts inside him, and suddenly his smile feels more plastered on that natural. Keep it together, he tells himself. “So has anyone gotten back to you about tutoring?”

“I haven’t put the word out yet,” she says. “Although I did make this!” She reaches into her bag and hands another page to him, this time with a photo of her in the centre and “Tutoring Services-Math and Science, specialising in calculus” printed below it, and her phone number and email address in a different, cursive font below. And true to form, she decorated it with little ClipArt lions and tigers. “What?”

“Nothing.” He hands her it back. “It’s just very you. And if I needed help with math, I’d call you in an instant.”

“You flatter me,” she jokes, putting it back in her backpack and dropping it on the floor. It catches his eye and he doesn’t understand why it would for a second, but then he remembers. She bought this backpack the day they went to the mall. She picked the white one with the little frogs. Janis had laughed at it, affectionately calling her a ‘permanent child’. That was the day Janis had passed out. The day she had overslept. The day before she had gotten that doctor’s appointment. And all the while, none of them knew the truth. None of them had put the pieces together.

“Damian?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nods quickly. “Yes, you should definitely do that.” Across from him, Cady’s eyebrows are shot up, her mouth half open. He’s blown it. Whatever ‘it’ is.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Um… are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay.” He leans back in his chair and tosses his head.  “Look at me, I’m the King of Okay, baby girl.”

“I know a bad Doctor Who reference when I hear one,” she tells him. She taps her pencil on the desk. If she knows a Doctor Who reference, then he can recognise a tell. She’s building up to something. “Look, it’s okay if you’re not okay. I mean what’s going on right now with Janis… it’s rough. It’s okay if you’re a little out of it. I am too.”

“Well that’s fine, but I’m not.”

The words shock him as soon as they leave his mouth. He wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t said them at all, rather someone behind him, and he wishes that were the case. He’s not like that. Those words are sharp and he’s rarely ever sharp. He made himself a promise never to be sharp or cruel or nasty unless absolutely necessary. He’s put in so much work over the years building up his cheerful, warm persona and it took a while for it to become fully natural. Apparently, he still needs work, because Cady’s face is falling at his outburst and she’s turning around him her chair and his gut is twisting and churning with guilt.

“Caddy, wait.” He reaches out and grabs her shoulder. “I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. It’s just-I’m so sorry, Caddy.”

“Hey.” Cady takes his hand and wraps her own around it, giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’s okay. Everything’s a lot right now.” Is it? Well, it is anyone can see that. But he’s coping, he’s sure of it. He woke up today so full of happiness he may have burst. How did he go from that to this in the space of an hour?

“Yeah,” he simply says. He runs his thumb over Cady’s knuckles, still shaken from what he said. He grips her hand tighter as if that can make sense of it. “I’m sorry.”

Despite Cady telling him it’s okay, a bad feeling follows him around all day, guilt combined with something else he can’t figure out. It leaves him feeling nauseous and uneasy all through his classes and even during lunch with his friends. It sits there all day, right in the pit of his stomach and wearing him out. By the time his first class after lunch starts, all he wants to do it go home. That very last bell is music to his ears and he barely remembers to bid goodbye to his friends before bolting out the door.

His hands are cold and unsteady as he pulls books out of his locker, his heart beating quickly and faintly beneath his shirt. He checks his phone, his messages empty, and makes a mental note to text Cady later before closing his locker and heading to the front gate. Hopefully by the time he gets home he’ll have come back to himself.

“Damian!”

Oh god, he thinks, suppressing a sigh. Ms Towers slips out in front of him, a file held close to her chest and her glasses perched on her head. She’s the school guidance counsellor, someone he’s never really interacted with. All of his issues were either fixed or in the process of that by the time he reached high school. She sure had her work cut out for her when the Burn Book was released though.

“Um, hi,” he says.

“Could I grab a quick word with you?” she asks.

No you cannot is what he wants to say. The school bell has gone, I’m free now.

“Sure,” is what he says instead, and his body follows her into her little office and even takes the seat she offers. It’s only when she sits down that he turns off autopilot. “Is this going to take long? Only I’ve got a lot of homework.”

“Not long at all,” she replies. She clears her throat, pretends to fix some papers on her desk, and leans forwards on the desk, her hands clasped beneath her. “Damian, what you’re going through is very difficult.”

“That’s indeed one word for it.”

“And the schoolboard is fully aware of any challenges you might be facing this year,” she goes on. “You probably know your teachers are all aware of the toll this may take on your schoolwork.” He hadn’t actually thought of that before. “But there are many support systems in place outside of the classroom. I want you to know that if you need any of them, we would be more than happy to schedule something for you. You could talk to me, or one of my colleagues on the care team, during one of your free periods maybe once or twice a week? Or if you want, our pastoral care team would be more than willing to talk to you in the school chapel-”

The image of Damian sitting in a church sitting on a pew talking to a priest about anything is so ludicrous to him that he actually bursts out laughing in her face.

He’s really being the resident asshole today, isn’t he?

“Sorry,” he replies, making a show of clearing his throat. “Something caught in my throat. You know how it is.”

“Oh, of course. I can get you some water if you like.” He shakes his head, taking his own bottle out of his bag, and gives her a gesture to keep talking. “Just if you want to avail of any of these services, they’re here. We’re all here for you Damian. So… do you think you might?”

“I appreciate the offer,” he says. His hand wraps tightly around his knee. “I really do. But I’m fine. I don’t need any school therapy or anything like that.”

“I don’t mean therapy,” she says. “Well, I could. But just if you needed a quick chat. This is a hugely stressful situation.”

“I know,” he snaps. He takes a deep breath in. He feels as though his insides are shaking, like a town caught in an earthquake. “I know. But I’m fine. I’m coping. And I have my own people anyway. I’ve got my friends; I’ve got my mom.” He stands on sore and unsteady legs and puts his bag on his back. “Besides, everything’s fine. Janis is coming home this weekend and we’re going to have a movie night and it will be exactly like it always has been. So we’re all good here.”

He lets her nod before bolting out the door. He doesn’t let anyone slow him down this time as he runs outside, down the front path and out the school gates, only starting to slow down when he’s off that street.

All the while, he doesn’t let himself think about Ms Towers’ offer, because doesn’t need it. He’s good. He’ll make himself good if he has to. He’s had enough practice at that after all.

                                                                                               *****

Saturday night takes forever to come around. The clocks on the wall tick by too slowly no matter where he is. Janis must get home late on Friday, because at some time after nine she posts a video of her dog cuddling her on her bed with the caption ‘I missed this boosh so much’. While Maxie takes up half the screen, he can see the smile in her cheeks. She looks good, healthy, happy, and that’s the main thing.

But finally the time comes, and he’s standing on her doorstep with a rucksack full of treats, DVDs, and the sleepover essentials. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, something he hasn’t felt since the early teens, and he has to hold back his arm lest he press the doorbell again.

“Hubbard!”

“Sarkisian!”

The moment he’s in her house, he envelopes her in a hug, letting her head rest in his shoulder and his hand rubbing up and down her back. His knees buckle in relief once she’s back with him, back hugging him. Sure he’s seen her before back in the hospital, but that was too alien. This is home. This is real.

“Missed you, dork,” she whispers.

“Missed you more,” he replies. When they finally let each other go, he sees her dressed down, blue and green galaxy leggings and a deep purple sweatshirt with a cartoon dinosaur on the front. Sleepover wear.

In the living room, Laura is setting up a bowl of popcorn and a try of tortilla chips, as well as a litre bottle of water and one of lemonade. She brightens up at the sight of him, hugging him lightly like you would a family member.

“Nice to see you, kid,” she tells him. “Hey how were the auditions? Janis told me they were this week.”

“Oh yeah,” he replies. It’s an effort not to wince. “They were fine. You know.”

“Well, we’ll be expecting front row tickets,” she tells him. “And a discount.”

“Sorry Laura no can do. Janis knows the importance of providing funds for the drama club.” Behind her mom, Janis nods as she fiddles with the DVD player.

“Oh, Janis, hon, let me do that.”

“It’s fine,” she replies, force behind the words. “I’ve got it. Besides you’re the one always asking me how to work it.”

“Fair enough,” she mutters. “Well, you two enjoy your night. I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”

“Cool. Thanks Mom.”

“Do you want me to take the dog out?”

“We can keep him. I think he’s missed Damian anyway.”

“And I’ve missed him,” Damian adds in. Maxie is pawing at Damian’s legs, his head rubbing against his legs and his tail wagging.

“Okay, just make sure you keep him calm. Otherwise he won’t let you sleep.”

“We’ll keep him calm,” Janis promises. “He’s a good boy.”

Laura mutters something to the contrary as she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her. Janis rolls her eyes at her.

“She’s so mean to the baby,” she says, patting the ground. “Come here Maxie-boy. Isn’t mama just the meanest and nastiest to the poor baby boy?”

“Should I leave you two alone?” he asks, only half-joking. Janis looks up from where she was making kissy faces at her dog and chuckles.

“I missed him,” she says. “Can you blame me? Imagine not letting your dog into the hospital with you.”

“It’s lunacy all right.” He kneels down beside her, opening up his rucksack. “Okay, I brought chocolate peanuts, I brought mini pretzels, I brought sour gummies. And to top it off, I brought your faves… crispy NemNems!” He holds up the box of M&Ms, wiggling them in her face. She bats them away, grinning.

“Perfection. Okay, what do we watch first?”

“You pick. That’s the rule after all, remember?” he reminds her. “Your house, your rules.”

“Okay. Then I pick…” She holds up the DVD to him; A Nightmare On Elm Street and wiggles her eyebrows. One of her favourites, which just so happens to be one of his least favourites. He’s not a horror fan. It’s one of the few disagreements they have.

“Deal. But I may have to hide behind your hair.”

They settle themselves on the couch, a pair of blankets resting on the heater behind them and Maxie plopped on top of them for extra warmth. His little head is on Janis’ lap, demanding pets, and she is only too happy to oblige. He snuggles further into her with his paws up on his legs and whimpering whenever she so much as shifts.

“Someone missed you.”

“Yeah he did,” she replies, her voice fond. “You know when I came into the kitchen last night he peed himself because he was so excited.” She leans down to the dog and starts speaking in what they call her ‘Maxie-voice’. “Didn’t you to a peepee on the floor and Daddy had to mop it up?”

“Awww. Also ewww.” Janis digs him the ribs even as she laughs. Maxie is oblivious to this, his ears pricking up as he looks between the two of them. Damian cracks open the snacks, already commandeering the tortilla chips (what can he say, he’s a carb lover) and placing the rest of them delicately between them before opening the M&Ms and handing them to Janis.

“Oh, thanks…” She picks a few out of the bag while holding the dog down with the other hand, lest he eat something he shouldn’t.

When he looks back in the bag, it’s like no-one took anything. Sure enough, there’s probably only three or four in her hand right now. And they’re one of her favourite things in the world, ever. She’s hidden them under pillows at sleepovers before. Before he can stop, she notices him looking and gives him a shrug.

“I’m just not that hungry,” she explains, taking a sip of the water. “It’s fine.”

It’s fine. There you go. She said it’s fine, so it’s fine.

Despite that reassurance, and against his better judgement, he doesn’t stop taking peeks at her as the movie goes on. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t like this movie. She picks at the food she would normally be fighting him for, eating a pretzel here and there and nothing else, only long, slow drinks of water. The hair on the back of his neck pricks up at it, his instincts once again kicking in.

Maybe instead of instincts, he thinks he might just be paranoid. Janis said that she hadn’t had much of an appetite recently. It’s just a side effect of the medicine. Nothing to be worried about, surely, especially with the way her eyes are wide and her grin is excited and bright, the way she jumps at scares she’s seen ten times over and ‘ooh’s at Freddy coming down the hall. She even calls him a ‘magnificent bastard’. Why should he focus on what she’s eating when she’s still her and is in good spirits? With that in mind, he turns his attention to the movie, properly this time, accompanied by Janis’ rantings and commentary.

When he does lose focus on Freddy Kruger again, it’s nothing to do with Janis or ‘instincts’, but rather nature calling, courtesy of a half-empty lemonade bottle on the floor. He stretches his stiff legs and turns to let her know, probably having to tap her to pull her out of the movie… only to find her curled in on herself, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Her hand rests limply on Maxie and her chest rises and falls slowly. How long has she been like that, he wonders.

“Janis?” he whispers. Nothing. “Janis.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch. That’s her for the night.

She looks younger in sleep, especially without make-up. And a lot less tough. It’s easier to see her as the little girl he met crying in a bathroom all those years ago. But she was tough even then, and she’s even stronger now. He rises slowly, careful not to wake her. Maxie is still awake, but antsy at sitting down for too long.

“Come here, kid,” he says quietly to him. He lifts Janis’ hand a little and coaxes him off her, patting his knees until he reluctantly climbs down. He settles beside her instead, sitting beside the couch like a little guard dog. “Good boy.” Next he takes the blanket from the heater and throws it over her, making sure to tuck it over her shoulders. That’s what moves her, and for a second he panics, but she only murmurs something and burrows into it. His heart swells in that moment, and he presses a swift kiss to her head.

“Good night, kid,” he whispers, even if it’s still light outside.

He doesn’t go home after that. He sticks around all night, despite Janis’ mother asking if he wants to go home. Neither one of her parents are surprised she fell asleep, telling him she’s tired a lot in the hospital. Her dad heaves a sigh before telling him that’s how they know it’s working. Damian nods, unsure of what else to say, and heads back to the living room. The idea of leaving her alone in there unsettles him for whatever reason.

He slides Cabaret into the DVD player, the volume at 2 and the subtitles on. At least if Janis does wake up, it’ll be to something she likes. For now he bounces between watching the movie and watching her until he gives up entirely. He changes spreads himself on the couch next to him, the light from his phone the only light on in the room. As he does start to doze off, a mere four hours after Janis, he starts thinking about what her dad said. If this is how they know everything’s working, then he can take it. Because it means she’ll be okay at the end.

[freddiesaysalright]

Peace Like A River Part 8

A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story

Summary: Reader is a stand up comic with a pretty dark past. She has a three new lights in her life: her daughter, Violet; her anonymous correspondent, Dear Friend; and Gwilym Lee.

Word Count: 3.7K

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @simmisblog, @assembledherethevolunteers, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @readinghorn, @riddikuluslypotter, @doingalrightt, @misslolasworld, @lemurian-starship, @ravenedges-lies, @painkiller80, @imgonnabeyourslave, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @ixchel-9275, @sincerelygmg, @lv-7867, @unicorn-princess-1999, @delilahmay39, @chlobo6, @dragon-out-of-water, @radio-hoo-ha If you want to be added, let me know!

A/N: oof y’all this is a big one

Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  Part V  Part VI  Part VII

Part 8 here we go!!!

“I want to meet my daughter.”

“No,” you said instinctively. 

“Don’t be so quick to decide,” Henry said. “After all-”

“No,” you repeated, firmer this time.

He sighed, but you detected sarcasm behind it. “Alright then. Guess I’ll just have one with Stacy.”

“Stacy doesn’t want kids,” you said.

“Ha!” he shot back. “You said the same thing, I still put one in you.” 

You bit your lip and squeezed Gwilym’s hand. He looked at the phone as if it were gum he’d scraped off his shoes.

“That’s not fair,” you said. 

“The world ain’t fair, Y/N,” he said with so much condescension you thought your head might explode. “But the way I see it, you’ve got two choices: bring the girl to meet me and you can be right there with her or I stay with Stacy and you’ll just have to imagine - or perhaps remember - what will happen to her.”

A tear rolled down your cheek. 

“You are such an asshole,” you said shakily. “Why do you even want to meet her? You signed away -”

“I didn’t do that by choice and you know it,” he cut across you. “It was part of our deal. Well, I’m striking a new deal.”

You clapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the sob threatening to escape. You looked at Gwilym and his heart nearly broke at your helplessness. He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. 

“When would we even be able to do this?” you returned. “I’m on tour right now.”

Gwilym shot you a horrified look that you were actually considering this.

“I know your last show is back in New York,” he said. “That’s when I want to meet her.”

“I need to think about this,” you said. 

“You’ve got twenty-four hours,” he said. “Or I’m asking Stacy to marry me.”

“Are fucking kidding me?!” you cried. “You’d stoop that low just to spite me?!”

“You’re damn right I would!” he yelled back. “You think you’re so high and mighty now that you’re famous, but don’t you ever forget who you really are - just another bitc-”

You hung up on him once again. You looked over at Gwilym as your mouth began to tremble with the emotions flooding to the surface.

“What am I going to do?” you whimpered. 

“Say no,” he said. “You can’t let him use Stacy against you.”

“Don’t you see?” you said. “He’s made whatever happens to Stacy my fault. Because I could have done something. He’s put this on me!”

“What he does to Stacy is his fault - his choice,” he argued. “It’s nobody else’s.”

“I can’t let him do what he did to me to someone else,” you said. “I can’t.”

“You can’t protect everyone, Y/N,” he reminded you.

“You’re right,” you said quietly as more tears spilled out. “Turns out, I can’t even protect my own daughter.”

“Yes, you can,” he protested. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” you returned. 

“Y/N…”

“I know,” you said. “But it’s just one time and then we never have to see him again.”

Gwilym scooted closer to you and took your face in his hands.

“Y/N, please,” he said. “Please don’t do this.”

“He’s given me no other choice,” you said, pulling away from him. “And I’ll be right there with her. I’ll meet him in public, so he can’t start anything, and -”

“Hold on, are you saying you’re going alone?” he wondered.

“Well, yeah,” you said, blinking at him.

“Oh, no you’re not,” he said. “When’s your last day of tour?”

You told him.

“I’ll be in New York with the boys then,” he said. “I’m going with you.”

“No!” you cried, eyes going wide and grabbing his hands again. “No, I don’t want him to hurt you!”

He smiled at you. “He won’t, love. And I’ll think he’ll be even less inclined to try something with you if you have a man with you.”

You considered this. You really hated to bring anyone around Henry, much less the two most precious people in your life. Fear clawed at your heart. Henry almost always carried his gun and a knife on him. If anything happened, you could lose everything.

“I’ll negotiate some terms for this meeting,” you said. “Are you sure about this?”

“I cannot let you go alone,” he assured you. “I will not.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

You leaned towards him and rested your forehead against his. You held your face between his hands, wiping some fresh tears away with his thumb. You wondered how things had gotten so heavy. It was not quite so much of a burden with Gwilym to help.

A gasp left your mouth when you opened your eyes and saw the time on his watch. 

“Gwilym, you’ve got to go,” you said. “Your interview.”

He glanced at the time and saw it too. “Damn. I’ll come straight back, after.”

“Don’t worry about that, I have a show tonight,” you said. “Spend some time with the guys. I can handle this.”

“Alright, love,” he agreed, kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” you returned.

He finally parted from you, leaving your skin itching for his return. He said a quick goodbye to Violet as well and then was gone. When the door closed behind him, you reached into the desk drawer to read his latest letter.

It was much the same as the others. A brief update on his emotional well-being, something about another book he’d read. He also mentioned you and something you’d said that stuck with him. He told Dear Friend how much she would like you. You chuckled to yourself. When you reached the end of the letter, it hit you. This was the first one since the first admission of love that he had not written “I love you.” Your brow furrowed. Had his feelings actually changed? 

You began to write a response, but you were having a difficult time. So much was on your mind now. Henry, Stacy, Gwilym, Violet. The huge web all of you were caught up in. For the first time, you didn’t feel like writing. With a sigh, you abandoned the letter for now and checked your emails. Your manager told you that he’d paid Stacy her final paycheck and they were looking for a new assistant, but since you only had two weeks left of tour, they would probably start when you returned to LA. It was a bit of a nuisance to be on your own, but you could manage.

That night, you let everything go as you got on the stage. It was a welcome relief to disappear behind your jokes once more and engage with a crowd for a while. You didn’t have to think much about Henry or Gwilym or anyone. It was just you and your audience. You could just have fun and laugh. It was nice.

After the show, you called Henry back. You were nervous but he picked up quickly and you told him you would meet him when you were back in New York.

“Some ground rules,” you said.

“I’m listening,” he replied.

“No weapons,” you told him. “Not your gun, not your knife, nothing that could hurt me or Violet.”

“So her name is Violet?” he asked.

“You didn’t know?”

“You never told me a goddamn thing about her, how was I supposed to know?”

“Whatever, do I have your word that you won’t bring any of your usual shit?” you pressed. 

“Fine,” he agreed. “Anything else?”

“This is a one time meeting,” you said firmly. “I am under no obligation to foster a relationship between you and her. If she wants to meet you again she may do so when she is eighteen.”

He sighed. “I’m her father.”

“Speaking of which, you aren’t allowed to tell her who you are,” you snapped. “She doesn’t have a father.”

“Are you serious?!”

“As a heart attack,” you said. “These are my terms.”

“Okay,” he said, but he sounded hesitant. “I won’t tell her.”

“And you will not trick me into this again,” you said. “Your next attempt to contact me will be ignored. My management team will know your name and will screen anything from you or anyone associated with you, including the whole fucking NYPD. Do you understand?”

“You’re getting ridiculous,” he said.

“Do you understand?”

“I understand,” he said irritably. “Fine.”

“Good,” you said. “I’ll text you when and where we can meet close to the date.”

“Whatever,” he said, and hung up.

You heaved a sigh. “This is gonna be a long two weeks.”

You could not have been more wrong. The next two weeks flew by. Normally, you were pretty pumped about the end of a tour, but you were dreading this one. The meeting with Henry loomed ahead like a cave with a wide mouth, but complete darkness inside. 

What made it worse was that you wouldn’t see Gwilym until New York either. You did eventually write back to his letter, but it felt shallow and empty. Completely devoid of any real meaning. But you wanted to send it as quickly as possible. Perhaps the reason he’d stopped saying “I love you” was because he felt the distance, even in the letters. Or perhaps he’d put the distance there himself as he got closer to you outside of them.

It was just after Thanksgiving and you were back in New York. The air was chilly with the threat of winter, but everything looked warm and festive. It was a relief that this would be over soon and you could move on with your holidays, just you and Violet. The draw back was that Gwilym was going back home, and you’d be further from him than you had been since before you reconnected. It broke your heart to think of it.

Gwilym arrived to pick you and Violet up from your room. You were staying in the same hotel this time, but you could hardly be excited about it. Your stomach twisted up in knots as the hour grew closer to confronting your ex-husband. You subconsciously grabbed the scar on your side from your last encounter with him. It felt like that wound was opening again.

“You alright?” Gwilym asked.

“No, honestly,” you replied. “I hate this.”

“I know, love,” he said, pressing a kiss you the top of your head. “It won’t be long. You can do it.”

“Don’t let go of me,” you said, like a little girl asking her dad not to let go of her bike when she’s learning to ride. Only, a lot worse than scrapes and bruises were at risk.

“Mommy, why are we meeting this man?” Violet asked. 

“I used to know him,” you explained. “And it’s important that I talk to him.”

“But you don’t like him?” she wondered.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t.”

“I don’t wanna go,” she whined. “I don’t wanna!”

You wished it was that simple. That you could stamp your foot and say no and get your way. But you couldn’t. Not with his threat against someone you knew. You regretted not talking to Stacy more, but you weren’t sure you could have convinced her to leave him. But if you only opened up to people, then they would know. Guilt washed over you. Had you doomed her by keeping your guard up? You couldn’t think about that now.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you said to her. “But we only have to go once.”

You walked to the park where you were meeting Henry. The beauty of the city in this season was lost on you as your nerves made every shaky step harder and harder to take. If Gwilym and Violet were not holding your hands you were sure you would have collapsed already. 

You came around the corner to the park and you spotted him. He was not very tall, but he was bulky. He’d gained some weight since you last saw him, but you were sure he had not lost any of his old strength. He stood up from the bench he was on when he saw you coming. Every cell on your body was screaming at you to run. To get as far away from him as possible. You stopped walking to take a breath.

“Nearly there, Y/N,” Gwilym said gently. 

You nodded, inhaling deeply again and started forward. Henry was only feet away from you now. The places on your body where he’d done the most damage were lighting up with the memory of his strikes. Your left eye throbbed. The burn on your collarbone grew hot. The cut on your side stung.

“Y/N,” Henry said. 

“Henry,” you returned with a stiff nod.

Violet stood in front of you, but she backed up into your legs, looking warily up at Henry. He looked at Gwilym.

“Who’s this?” he wondered.

“Gwilym Lee,” Gwilym answered.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” Henry asked.

“That’s not your business,” you interjected. “You’re here to talk to Violet.”

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. He went to kneel down to greet her but you stopped him.

“Hold it,” you said. “Show me your waistband.”

“Come on, I left my gun in the car,” he told you. “My knife too.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you said. “Show me.”

He groaned, rolled his eyes, and then lifted his sweater and undershirt. You found no holster or knife clip. 

“Go ahead,” you said.

He knelt in front of her. “Hi, Violet. My name’s Henry.” He held his hand out to her. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and then looked up at you. “The bad man?”

Before you could answer, Henry sprang to his full height. You flinched.

“The bad man?” he repeated, practically spitting at you.

Gwilym wrapped his arm protectively around your shoulders, but you didn’t relax. Violet whimpered beside you and wrapped her arms around your leg. 

“That slipped out,” you said. The familiar need to protect Henry’s feelings and appease him arose in you. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you oughta be,” he said. “You’re already setting her up not to like me.”

“Why should she?” you blurted out.

“Hey, watch it with the fuckin’ attitude,” he warned, stepping toward you.

“Is that a threat?” Gwilym challenged, moving to stand between you and Henry.

“Mommy,” Violet said, tugging on your jacket and cutting the quickly growing tension. “I gotta go potty.”

“Okay, sweetie,” you said, taking her hand. “Let’s go find the restroom.”

“There’s a building just down the path,” Henry said, his shoulders relaxing. 

“Okay,” you returned. “We’ll be right back.”

Gwilym watched you disappear with Violet into the building Henry referred to. He felt tense now standing beside your ex-husband, who had caused you so much pain. He didn’t even know half of it, he was sure. Anger was boiling up inside of him, but he wanted to keep a cool head for your sake. You were anxious enough already.

“So, how do you know Y/N?” Henry asked. 

Gwilym blinked at him.

“We used to work together,” he answered shortly.

“So you’re just friends?”

“Sure.”

“And Violet, she likes you?”

“I would think so considering how often she hugs me.”

Henry sighed and toed the ground with his boot, stirring up some dust. “Ah, fuck.”

“What?” wondered Gwilym.

“It’s just shitty how it all worked out,” he said. “I hate this.”

Gwilym was shocked. Had Henry changed?

“If she hadn’t left, we could have been happy,” Henry said.

Gwilym couldn’t hold back any more. “Are you joking? If you hadn’t treated her like a punching bag, maybe she wouldn’t have left!”

“Hey, what the hell do you know?” Henry shot back. 

“Did it make you feel better?” Gwilym cried. “Burning her, slapping her around? Did it make you feel like a man? To force yourself on someone smaller than you and helpless?”

“She earned everything she got!” Henry shouted. “A good woman doesn’t talk shit to her husband!”

“Tell me, what exactly were you doing to be a husband worthy of her respect?”

Henry flared up and glowered at Gwilym. His hands balled into fists, which did not go unnoticed by the latter. 

“Going to hit me?” Gwilym challenged. “Or do you exclusively beat on people who can’t fight back?” 

“Hey, FUCK YOU!” Henry bellowed.

Gwilym laughed in his face. “Raise your voice all you want, Henry. You’re a tiny, pathetic little man, and you don’t scare me.” 

Henry swung at Gwilym who only leaned back to avoid the impact. But the former had put all his weight behind the punch, so missing threw him off balance, and he stumbled. Gwilym took this opportunity to shove Henry several feet back. He caught himself and re-centered, preparing to lunge at Gwilym again. 

You were drying Violet’s hands when you heard Henry curse loudly, and assumed it was directed at Gwilym. A nervous twinge went through you and you gulped. You wondered what had been said and if it was still escalating. 

“Come on, sweetie,” you said, taking Violet’s hand. “Hurry.”

You walked quickly outside, and you saw Henry throw a punch but miss. Then you saw him prepare to strike a second time. You took off running, hurtling toward Gwilym. Violet gave a surprised cry and followed close behind, sprinting beside you at a rate that was impressive, though you couldn’t even process it. You had missile lock on Gwilym as Henry raised his hand. 

“Don’t you TOUCH HIM!” you screamed, casting yourself between the men.

You faced Henry, arms spread in front of Gwilym. You glared fiercely at your ex-husband, surprised at his newfound hesitation. Violet caught up and hid herself behind Gwilym. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath.

Gwilym blinked, shocked at your sudden appearance and your ferocious defense of him. Your need to protect others from Henry’s cruelty became even clearer to him now. Even though you were smaller, weaker, and more afraid, you stood there in front of him, shielding him and your daughter. His admiration for you grew about tenfold. As did his love. 

You waited for Henry to strike. You could not allow him to get to Gwilym and Violet. Your whole heart stood behind you, and you would shield it with your life if you had to. Henry stepped closer, and you brought your hands forward and rammed both fists into his chest. He was so thrown off by it, he fell onto his back. 

“This was a mistake,” you said to Gwilym, but without facing him. You knew better than to turn your back on Henry. “Let’s go.”

Henry rolled onto his side and then scrambled to his feet. 

“Hold on, I’m not finished,” he said. 

“I am,” you retorted. “Deal’s off. Fuck you.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but Violet again interrupted. 

“Daddy, hold me!” she whined. 

You and Henry both whipped around - you terrified, and he hopeful. But then you saw it. She was reaching up for Gwilym, ignoring Henry entirely. She had tears streaming down her cheeks and she was shaking. Your heart ached for her. You knew she must so scared and confused. Gwilym stooped down and lifted her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and let out a sob. 

“It’s alright, love,” he said, rubbing her back. “I’ve got you.”

You turned to Henry. “We’re leaving. Contact me again, and I’ll file harassment charges.”

“This is bullshit,” he said. 

“Get bent,” you returned. 

Gwilym approached. He had Violet on his hip, so he wrapped his free arm around your waist. You turned, feeling more secure now, and the three of you walked way. 

“Y/N!” Henry called. 

You ignored him. 

“Y/N!”

You flipped him off as you walked.

As you headed back to the hotel, Violet relaxed. She was not asking questions, just holding Gwilym around his neck and relying on him for comfort. You took her hand. 

“I love you,” you told her. “I’ll never put you through that again. I’m sorry, Violet.”

“I love you too, Mommy,” she returned. “I’m okay. You’re okay. That’s what matters.”

You smiled at her. Then she closed her eyes and rested on Gwilym. He looked over at you and smirked. 

“You were really amazing back there,” he told you. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

Your heart swelled at his praise. “Thanks!”

When you got back to the hotel, Joe, Ben, and Rami were all there in the lobby, clearly fretting over Gwilym’s return. When they saw him in one piece, they all sighed with relief. 

“How’d it go?” Joe wondered. 

“Fine,” Gwilym assured him. “Y/N set him straight.”

“Good for you,” Rami said, clapping you on the shoulder as you grinned. 

“Hey, would you guys mind taking Violet for a little while?” Gwilym asked.

You shot him a quizzical look. 

“I just want to talk to you,” he said. “Privately. Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “Do you guys mind?”

“Not at all,” Ben answered. 

“What d’you say, Vi?” Gwilym asked her. “Wanna spend some time with your uncles?”

She looked at the three of them, a slow smile spreading across her lips. Joe made a goofy face and did a raspberry at her and she giggled. 

“Yeah!” she agreed. 

“Good girl!” Gwilym said, handing her off to Joe. 

You waved to her as Gwilym led you to the elevator. 

“Wait, are we going to your room?” you wondered. 

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s important.”

Confusion and a jolt of worry went through you. You feared - irrationally - that he was going to tell you this was all too much for him and end your friendship. It had to be about what happened with Henry. Was he going to scold you for trying to protect him? You really had no idea what else it could be. 

When you made it to his room, utterly lost at the purpose of all this, he quickly opened the door and almost pushed you inside. Where had this sudden intensity come from?

The door clicked shut and you looked at him, distressed. 

“Gwil, what’s going -”

He cut you off with a kiss. His lips were hot, needy, and desperate against yours. His mouth swallowed your yelp of surprise. You could fight it no longer. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as you melted into him.

[luckyfirerabbit]

Jaune Doe: pt 7

(short and sweet, it’s how it came out)

It's been hills and valleys for him the last couple weeks. The nightmares come and go in waves, a few nights on, then off, then on again for a few more. His appetite is inconsistent but he doesn't appear to have an issue with it, though the staff is worried about his weight. But, on the positive side, they've got him off the IV completely and are managing his pain rather well with Ibuprofen. He's up and walking as expected. His concussion is healing as it should as well, but his memory is still spotty at best. Aside from his sleep disturbances his mood is stable, even pleasant, and he's able to tolerate what few visitors he receives with little issue.

Today, however, Jaune is noticeably concerned, lounging in his bed and staring at the ceiling with a sever knit to his brow. His transfer date is coming up and he doesn't know what to do. Pyrrha said she would figure it out, or at least help him do it, but she hasn't brought him anything yet, not even the copy of his file that she promised.

What's going to happen to him? Will they just toss him out? No, no...would they really?

"Knock, knock,"

Jaune blinks out of his troubled haze, reflexively smiling. "Hey, Pyrrha, I was just thinking about you."

"Oh yeah? Good things I hope." Oh my gods, why did I say that? She's starting to second guess herself already.

"You could say that." he lilts his head, noncommittal. "Everything okay? What's in the bag?"

"Well," she knows he's referring to the duffel bag she has in one hand. She approaches the bed and sets it down near the foot of it, asking for permission to sit on the edge before continuing. "I actually wanted to talk to you about your transfer."

"Oh, good. What did you find out?"

"I've got all the information on the hospital campuses available for you right here." she props her briefcase on her lap and opens it, passing him a folder that he had expected to be much thicker. "Most of them are nearby, and a few of them have single occupancy units so you could have some privacy if you wanted."

"That's great, thank you." he takes the papers, seemingly genuinely relieved. "And what about the copy of my file?"

"That's here too." she's still sifting through everything she keeps in the case, producing another pale colored file.

He shows his gratitude through a short lived but heartfelt smile, though the expression kinks with curiosity. "And the bag?"

Pyrrha snaps her case closed and takes a sharp, stabilizing breath at the same time. "I...bought you some clothes. I had to guess your size for the most part, but...yeah. There's some hard-soled slippers in there that should fit you, too, at least until you can tell me your shoe size."

"Pyrrha," he's stunned, "y-you didn't have to do that."

"I know, I wanted to." she can't look at him, focusing on her hands and the way her fingers drum at the edges of her briefcase. "I also wanted to ask you something."

"Besides my shoe size?" the little chuckle at the end sounds nervous.

"Yes," she laughs in turn. "I was wondering...I applied to be your sponsor. If you want...you can come and stay with me."

His brow creases, a mixture of concern and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. His hands fumble with the papers he's holding, eventually settling to let them sit atop his thighs when he draws his legs up. "I...you didn't...why would you do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," his hand reaches back and cups his neck, rubbing out the anxiety he feels mounting in his chest. He lifts his eyes and meets her gaze briefly. "It's...shit," he pushes his hand through his hair, fingernails in his scalp and catching on a cut he forgot about. "I don't know how to say it without sounding like an asshole."

"Then just say it, it's okay." she assures him.

"What's your angle?" he blurts out, feeling the shame of the hidden accusation immediately.

Part of her thinks she gets it, it's the same part that pushes down the little hurt brought on by his suspicion. After everything he's been through -just the stuff she knows about- how was he supposed to trust her like that? It's a wonder he has any trust for her at all.

Eventually Pyrrha just smiles and waits until he looks at her again. "Like I said before, I just want to help."

He still holds a certain uneasy wariness in his face. "And if I say no?"

"Then that's your choice." she nods once. "I'd hope you'd accept the clothes, though, considering you don't really have anything," she laughs, an attempt to break the tension that she's certain fails, "but you're welcome to say no. I'll still be your advocate, I'll still work on your case and make sure you're taken care of. Nothing changes."

Jaune hears sirens in his head, warnings, some vicious and desperate thing screaming for him to retreat. It's a trap is all he can think, in spite of everything he's seen -he knows- to the contrary.

For a moment the two just look at each other, and Pyrrha eventually takes that as a sign. She eases to her feet, her brief case tucked under her arm.

"Take some time to think it over, and just let me know when you've made a decision, okay? Until then, if you need me, just have someone page me."

He nods. "...Thanks." he offers timidly.

"Of course."

---

Every so often Pyrrha will skip her evening trip to the gym in favor of dinner out with her coworkers, which usually consists of Blake or Billy or Sahv, or some combination of the three. Tonight it's Blake and Yang joining her at Magic Wok. The three of them manage to get a booth tucked away in a relatively quiet corner, the perfect spot to sit and talk without disturbing or being disturbed by others.

"Am I an asshole?"

Blake coughs as her food goes down the wrong pipe, causing Yang to reach across to pat her lover on the back as she gapes at Pyrrha from across the table.

"What on earth makes you say that?" Blake sputters once she's able.

Pyrrha shifts in her seat, uncomfortable under their joint scrutiny. "I mean...maybe asshole isn't the right word,"

"Damn straight it isn't." Yang insists. "That's the last word I'd ever use in regards to you." she looks to Blake. "You okay now, baby?"

"I'm fine." one last cough. "But seriously, why would you think that?"

"Well, like we talked about, I told Jaune I was willing to sponsor him." she prods the tangle of noodles on her plate with her chopsticks. "And...just like you said he might, he got defensive and kind of...shut down."

"So why would you think you're an asshole?"

"Because," Pyrrha slouches, putting her hands in her lap as if she can hide her discomfort. "I just...I hate when I upset people. Especially when I just want to do the right thing."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't take it personally, because you're doing that anyway -that's right, I've got your number, superhero," Blake's felid ears match the asymmetry of her eyebrows, "but I don't believe he got defensive simply because it's you. It's because things are changing for him again, what little stability he has is about to shift and he doesn't know what to do, if there's anything he can do. And that's probably coming from a long time of having no control over his own fate or well being. Then, of course, there's the more than likely possibility of general trust issues."

Yang takes a long draw from the straw in her drink, her brow furrowing as she swallows. "He's probably convinced this is just some elaborate scam, and the minute he agrees to go home with you, all hell's going to break loose."

And part of Pyrrha knows there's not much she can do to change that for him. Jaune would have to discover for himself if she was trustworthy, if what she was offering him was real or some cruel joke at his expense. She shudders at the idea of just how bad he might think things could be, a man who -while drugged out of his mind and mad with pain- still had the wherewithal to be terrified and fight back against those that were trying to save his life.

"If what he went through was anything like," Yang continues, pausing to put a crispy rangoon in her mouth and tuck it in her cheek. She'll gesture with her hand, knowing they both know what she means. "Gods only know the kind of head games he's had to navigate until now. But I agree with Blake, I don't think it's because of you."

"I know, I agree with you too, just,"

"Just you're a micro-manager and this is something you can't change." Blake explains knowingly. "But you've got a good enough head on your shoulders to let it run it's course."

"I certainly hope so." Pyrrha sips her drink. "And I don't want to influence his decision so I'm keeping our visits to a need-only basis."

One golden brow rises. "Want me to influence him for you?"

"Yang," Blake warns gently, half-heartedly.

"No, I'm serious. Listen," Yang shoves down another rangoon and swallows, leaning towards Pyrrha on one elbow. "He doesn't understand the kind of person you are, he probably thinks you're like some fucking unicorn -all mythological and sparkly and too good to be true. Let me talk to him, I mean, you've been meaning for me to anyway, right?"

"True." Blake nods.

"But he should make this choice on his own." Pyrrha reaffirms. "He deserves that."

"He also deserves the best chance at recovery and getting his life back together." Yang counters.

"Also true." Blake chimes, seeming more focused on her food than the conversation.

"And I think you can give him that chance, Pyrrha. Hell," she laughs, easing away, back into her own space in the booth. "If it weren't for you, I might not have met Blake, so you basically saved my life."

Pyrrha blushes and tries to hide her face, failing miserably. "I just got you the referral."

"Semantics." Yang waves her hand in dismissal. "So let me go to bat for you, just this once, and I promise I won't use my impeccable charm for evil ever again."

Blake laughs, almost choking on her food again. Once she's able to she quickly swallows.

"Come on; I kind of feel like you owe me after not letting me curb-stomp your ex."

"Yang," Pyrrha exhales hard, appalled more so at herself for the effort it takes not to laugh than at Yang for the comment. "He wasn't that bad,"

"Bullshit." Yang points a finger at her, sharp, decisive.

Blake clears her throat, takes a quick drink. "Being in denial doesn't change the truth of the matter, Pyrrha, it would be better if you just accept it."

"I've gotten better at it." she admits meekly. "Just...I don't think anyone deserves to be curb-stomped. Believe it or not, I'm not a huge fan of violence."

"Well I am," Yang's finger has changed to her thumb and points back at her, "and as far as I'm concerned, a man who hits his wife deserves a helluva lot worse."

Pyrrha sighs and smiles. "And while I appreciate how fiercely protective you both are of me, it isn't necessary."

"You heard her, down girl." Blake nudges Yang with an elbow.

Yang tucks close to Blake, diving face first into the crook of her neck. "Woof,"

"Oh my god," Pyrrha groans, "check please,"

[stilwaterskeeter]

Rewriting Saints Row IV

Hi this is my absolute least favorite game of the series and I kind of hate it! But here I am regardless putting my time and efforts into making an entire post dedicated to what I like and (in my opinions) how to fix the parts I don’t like...

This is also written to match by SRTT post rather than the base canon for the games! Which literally changes nothing but Johnny is already known to be alive before this game, so yknow...

This is also a HUGE post whoops

And again, this is just for fun. Don’t like it? Don’t interact with it. I’m not forcing you to read this. That being said, I do like discussing this kind of stuff so I totally up if you wanna just talk about alternatives or how you think things would play out and stuff

Plot/Story Specific Changes:

President’s Cabinet:

Fuck Keith David! Get him out of here! Leave sir! Go back to your movies!

Johnny Gat is our new Vice President because we know regardless of his skill at the matter, The Boss would make him his VP

This also gives Ben King a lot more reason to hold it against The Boss that he isn’t the VP, because at least before Keith David was a likable actor and had his own skillset for the role. Now it’s Johnny fucking Gat who has all the diplomatic and political tact of a shoe

The Boss’ dream isn’t some stupid 50s sitcom, that was so dumb, hardehar 50s is so nice and polite my ass

I think shit like meeting Julius, the boat explosion, Dex’s attempt to kill them, Magarac Statue blowing up even if they tried to go there, Johnny bleeding out after the fight with Jyunichi, and probably much more are better suited pieces to a much larger much more intimidating and genuine nightmare sim that would have broken The Boss inevitably

All the times they almost died because they weren’t quick enough, all the times they just barely saved their friends? A lot scarier than “oh noes I cawn’t kiww anybodwy uwu” crap

Zinyak doesn't really destroy the Earth

First of all: I don’t think he’d waste so many potential assets over the folly of one idiot

Second of all: The man’s supposed to be like a genius of sorts? So I find it ridiculous that he doesn’t have the ability to hide the fact that Earth is Actually Totally Fine from an idiot like The Boss

Third of all: To avoid Kinzie being oh so smart and debunking Zinyak’s scheme- She’s absolutely distraught when the Earth blew up and surprisingly caught up in her emotions, a pretty new thing for her. So I think it’s plausible she would bee too caught up in the moment to do much and afterwards is too caught up trying to help The Boss find and rescue what they believe is the last hopes for humanity

Kinzie doesn’t save anyone before The Boss, she goes straight for The Boss and before trying to go to Earth, they rescue Johnny Gat

Kinzie was prepared prior to saving The Boss with a few locations already in mind that she found as she was looking for them

One of which obvs ended up being Johnny

Another of which is a Surprise Prison that will help us later

All she knows is that it’s definitely based from Stilwater in ye olden days (first game, not actually ye olden days lmao) so she was assuming it was definitely either The Boss or Johnny

(Spoiler it’s Lin)

Additionally: The sim we do activities and hang out in isn’t Steelport. It should have been Stilwater and you know it.

After the Earth is “destroyed” and The Boss needs to go back into the sim and start recruiting people, Johnny steps in a lot when discussing who to save next

Sorry Matt, your rescue is getting pushed back a little

Johnny’s very adamant about not saving Matt first, “We are not saving that little goth punk whatever kid before we save our girl and Pierce. I don’t give a fuck that you’re president, I’m impeaching you, we’re saving Shaundi next. Not Matt.”

Shaundi’s nightmare sim stays relatively the same, but maybe polish up the writing better

I like her nightmare and the angle, but the writing just felt very,,,awkward to me?

She was supposed to be hung up on feeling helpless and the fact that she felt that because she was always “the damsel” and in need of protection, that Johnny was gone

But the writing kind of just skimmed over that

Then they save Pierce because, yeah, they give him a lot of shit, but he’s one of Johnny and The Boss and Shaundi’s closest friends and Johnny’s already made it clear they’re not saving anyone else until they got both Shaundi and Pierce back

Then you have the 3 rescues that you pick the order for

Asha

Ben

Matt

Then comes the replacement for Johnny’s canon rescue; It’s Lin’s Rescue Now

Kinzie isn’t sure who it really could be because they already have The Boss and Johnny, and they’ve already identified which sim is Ben’s

She asks Pierce and Shaundi for help trying to identify the sim while Johnny and The Boss are fuckin around in the sim

Neither of them have a clue who it could be

But both of them recognize the invading gang members in the sim as Westside Rollerz members so they recommend asking Johnny and The Boss about it

Johnny and The Boss have a moment of “Holy fucking shit, there’s no way” “It couldn’t be her, could it?” all the while the rest of the crew is just like “Any day now, who couldn’t it be?”

Lin’s nightmare sim is the events following up to her kidnapping and then the moments before Zinyak got her when she was in the process of drowing

A street race where some shithead Roller sabotaged Lin’s car so she had to forfeit midrace and then some guys kidnap her

I was figuring you’d be racing to catch up to her and then the race ends for you when she has to pullover

And then a brief cutscene of her trying to fight of some Rollerz goons while The Boss is locked in their car and can’t get out no matter how hard they try to break the window or bust it open

Then a followup cutscene Lin and Sharp arguing about The Playa not arriving to her rescue

“It appears to me like your little friend won’t be joining us. Oh well, we’ll take care of them soon enough. For now, just you will have to do.”

“Could your head be any further up your ass? Get on with it already, I’m getting bored here.”

And a short line from The Boss like, “What an asshole, jokes on him I wasted that son of a bitch years ago. And I’m not leaving without Lin this time.”

The last part is a timed boss battle with Sharp

Kinzie’s trying to do her tech thing and find a workaround to save Lin from drowning while The Boss fends off Sharp and miscellaneous goons

After Lin’s rescued and Sharp is dead, she steals the gun from The Boss in a cutscene and empties it into Sharp

“I have been waiting too fucking long to do that.”

There’s a brief reunion scene between her and The Boss

“Man, you don’t know how glad I am to see you.”

“Oh. My. God. You can fucking talk, that’s almost as crazy as the fact I’ve been living in this hellhole for years....You look good, did you do something to your hair?”

“You have no idea, Lin. You’ve missed a lot.”

“Nothing we can’t talk about over a beer after we get out of here. Speaking of, you got a plan for that or-?”

Kinzie chimes in, “I do.”

Kinzie isn’t the one who defends Matt when he says the mission is a bad idea because that was dumb and out of character, agree with him maybe, but not defend him

Instead of Keith’s betrayal/loyalty mission/whatever; We get Lin going into the simulation on her own to try and save Donnie after having Matt find his sim for her when The Boss pushes off saving Donnie as something to do later since Donnie’s not exactly useful in a mission like saving the universe and destroying Zinyak

“How do you even know he’s not dead? What makes you think Zinyak even abducted him?”

“Because I know he’s still alive, and Matt found him.”

“Look, we’ll take care of this after we end Zinyak. There’s no cars for him to rig or information to leak to us with these guys.”

“There’s gotta be a fucking reason he got abducted, playa. He’s worth saving.”

Johnny chimes in, “We’re not saving your stupid boyfriend right now, Lin. We have bigger fucking problems to deal with.”

It just progresses into a whole fight and the others are kind of just like....”Holy shit....there’s three of them now.” until Ben King steps in and tells them to all shut the fuck up

“Listen, Lin. We’re going to get your boy, but we aren’t doing it now. It’ll be the first thing after we kick Zinyak’s ass.”

The Boss chimes in, “Who said anything about the f-”

“I said...it’ll be the first thing we do, got it?”

Donnie’s nightmare sim is The Boss attacking his garage but Lin never shows up and instead he gets “killed” and then it’s The Boss harassing him and attacking him to get him to rig the Brotherhood vehicles and for the location of Carlos and Maero threatening him and ultimately “killing” him as well and then repeat

Bet The Boss kind of feels a little bad about always picking on him now, huh

Lin is at least, she feels guilty about setting up the raid on Donnie’s garage in SR1 and then just feels really pissed off about The Boss going after him more in SR2

Eventually The Boss shows up to help and with some hacking skills(TM) is given their superpowers and Lin is given powers as well to save Donnie

Obviously he can’t believe Lin is fucking ALIVE let alone just SAVED his ass

“Y-You’re alive? But Mr.Sharp killed you! A-And I let him! They found your body in the river and-....where the hell have you been for so long?”

“Listen, Donnie, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Are you sure? Because Earth got invaded by aliens and I’ve been dying repeatedly everyday since.”

“Shit, yeah. That son of a bitch, Zinyak, saved my ass from drowning back in Stilwater. This asshole over her saved me from that.”

“I bet their to blame for all this! It’s always their fault! Ultor, STAG, Gangstas in Space, Cyrus Temple, they’re the fucking president now can you believe that?”

The Boss chimes in, “I’m standing right fucking here! And for your information, I happen to be an excellent president!”

“Now’s really not the time, playa.”

And also that The Boss also SAVED him

“I thought you fucking hated me, I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m only here for Lin.”

“Oh.”

Okay I lied, Zinyak DOES destroy the Earth for realsies

But only towards the end of the game, like following up to the boss battle

He reveals like 

“Oh, it seems you haven’t learned your lesson then. I suppose I’ll have to really blow up your pitiful little planet then? Such a shame really, humanity could have been quite useful to the Zin Empire, but one must cut’s one’s losses sometimes. Their certainly not worth the trouble your putting me through here.”

This gives him time however to have abducted more people, including like Oleg, Viola, Donnie, etc etc etc

Fuck the Enter the Dominatrix DLC

Yeah it’s funny and all but like, where’s something actually interesting and additional to the game?

Replace it with DLC where you rescue like Viola and Oleg and stuff instead

Viola’s nightmare obviously would have to do with being stuck working for Killbane and probably have a boss battle where you fight simbane after he tries to kill Viola as well after having killed her sister

Oleg has a few options I think but the most appealing idea to me is a nightmare about him trying (and failing repeatedly) to escape the KGB

Character Specific Changes:

There really isn’t much to be put here shockingly

Maybe I’m the only one who thinks this but I think they should have expanded on the jokey romances more

I’m not talkin’ like full on bioware romances, just yknow maybe a little more than a single repeatable scene that varies from being shockingly indepth (Johnny) to just a fucking joke (Kinzie)

Maybe like add in a decision for a difference between just like casual sex or an actual romance with the characters

If you pick an actual romance then there’s random little banter lines about it when you have homies and maybe a few lines in some cutscenes or smth, nothing huge

Like say, you have Pierce and Shaundi as homies with you:

Romance Shaundi:

P: It’s about damn time someone did something

S: What are you talking about?

P: Uh, you and The Boss? Duh

S: Oh my god, shut up

P: Took ya’ long enough...y'all only been eye fucking each other as long as I can remember

S: Shut up, Pierce!

P: Chill! I’m happy for you, girl! Don’t attack me!

Romance Pierce:

S: So...you and The Boss, huh?

P: I already don’t like where this is going

S: I’m just surprised is all, you’ve been into them since like day one

P: No. I haven’t.

S: [snorts] Yeah, right. You used to get so upset when-

P: Shut up! They’re standing right there!

Or uh Pierce and Johnny:

Romance Pierce:

J: Hey, man, I’m proud of you for finally tellin’ The Boss how you feel

P: Wh- I didn’t- I’m not the one who-

J: But if you ever even think  about hurting them [cocks gun] I won’t hesitate to put a cap in your ass

P: Man, calm down. I ain’t gonna do shit, jesus

J: [laughs] I’m just messin’ with you, Pierce. I’m not gonna shoot you.....Unless...

P: This is why I don’t tell you things, Gat! What the hell, man?!

Romance Johnny:

P: I can’t believe you and The Boss weren’t already fucking

J: Me neither

P: Didn’t you ever...yknow...like wonder? You never even thought about it?

J: Oh, no. I thought about it plenty. I wasn’t about to be the one to say somethin’ though

P: Did we finally find something Johnny Gat is scared of?

J: Fuck no, man, just after what happened with Eesh-

P: So...you were scared?”

J: No!

Lin getting to know everyone is a very big thing, like she’s suddenly surrounded by new people and everyone but Johnny and The Boss from before her abduction are dead

She gets along really well with Shaundi, Johnny (duh), Ben King, Asha, and Donnie (duh)

She gets along pretty damn well with Pierce too but it’s a pretty similar teasing relationship as Shaundi and Pierce and she gives him a hard time a lot

He gripes about how he has to deal with 2 Shaundis and Lin now a lot

She and Asha are pretty different but also pretty similar, they’re both really stubborn and dedicated to what they deem their “duties” but Lin still likes to let loose and have fun a lot more than Asha

A lot of their interactions consist of Lin trying to convince Asha to just let loose “a little” and have some fun

Asha for the most part wouldn’t ever really admit that she likes Lin but if pushed she’d definitely say something like “I definitely respect her. Maybe the Saints wouldn’t be as ridiculous and out of control if she was never taken from them before.”

Also because again you can pry wlw Lin from my cold dead hands we get this exchange:

“You know...you remind me a lot of one of my exes.”

“That’s...nice.”

“Stubborn, pretty, law-abiding, all work no play-”

“Is there a point to this?”

“Not really, I just keep thinking about it.”

“I see...and what happened to them?”

“She broke up with me for some prick named Blake...[laughs] So I broke his nose next time I saw him. Detention for a month, but definitely worth it to see her face.”

“No wonder The President likes you...”

She also gets along with Matt pretty well, having gone to him to find Donnie instead of Kinzie, although that was simply because she figured Matt would keep quiet about it and not tell The Boss, as well as Kinzie was already doing 101 things for The Boss at the time

She really doesn’t understand the whole Nyteblade thing but vampires are kind of cool she guesses and also it’s not like there’s a ton of shows or books left to entertain herself with, at least with Nyteblade, Matt’s got the memory of an elephant and probably totally recreates a ton of the episodes and key scenes because he is Absolutely That Guy first of all

She ends up getting pretty into it but if you ask about it she’ll shrug it off as simply because it’s “the only show left to watch”

Lin also remarks with Shaundi how she reminds her a lot of herself

“You know, I used to be some fun loving party girl myself.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Los Carnales and Julius fucking Little. Couldn’t go five feet out of my house without some assholes doing a drive-by or starting gang wars.”

“Oh...”

“Had to step up if I wanted it to stop, we see how well that turned out.”

“...Yeah....”

Alternatively to the nightmare sim swap I listed earlier...Johnny Gat would be The Boss’ husband in the 50s nightmare sim for sure

Kinzie definitely brings that up to Johnny if they’re both homies, especially if you romanced Johnny

Matt Miller and Donnie friendship when-

Turns out Donnie’s also a fan of Nyteblade

And Matt liked the Feed Dogs’ admittedly short lived time of activity

They both geek out of dumb shit and also talk about how fuckin scary The Boss can be and how lucky they are as some of the few remaining living members of gangs that The Boss fucking demolished

CID gets a lil more establishment

aka I mean he gets like a lil hologram of what he used to look like before becoming an AI in the zin system when he’s in the sim so he can hold guns and run around with you as a homie

also cut the whole thing of him trying to bargain with The Boss for “a woman” because that entire segment was weird and uncomfortable

[wiener-soldiers]

hallelujah (iii) - steve trevor

summary: after your partner, steve trevor, washes up on some mysterious island, you can’t help but worry endlessly. an ocean away, steve can’t help but think about you in the company of a certain amazonian warrior-princess.

words: 2000ish

warnings: none, this is cute

parts: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv

 But Baby I’ve been here before

I've seen this room and I've walked this floor

You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya.

And I've seen your flag on the marble arch

And love is not a victory march

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

It seems like worrying was all you have been doing nowadays. You worried about your family: your mother who was struggling to make ends meet, your outspoken father who was most likely advocating for the entry and acceptance of refugees displaced by the fighting, and your brother who was slowly reaching the age where he could disguise himself as an eighteen-year-old and volunteer for the army. You worried about Etta, who gave herself a tremendously heavy workload and pretended that everything was chipper. You worried about your friends, Charlie, Sameer, and Chief, all suffering from emotional and physical scars from the war.

Most of all, you worried about Steve. He has not returned for weeks from his solo mission to gather intel on Dr. Poison.

He was supposed to be back eight days ago. But no one knows where he is.

The weeks without Steve were unbearably grim. You were normally sent out on missions together, but solo missions for the two of you were somewhat common. However, this mission had felt a little off to you: you had reason to be correct.

The weeks without him followed a routine: wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast if you are lucky, go to work, pretend not to worry about your partner as Etta’s chipper personality is in front of you, go home, eat some food, sleep, and repeat. You did not leave the house early with a smile on your face to meet Steve for breakfast anymore, or throw crumpled paper at him as he sits in the desk across from you at work, or debate on which deli makes the best sandwiches as you take a stroll through London for lunch, or console him through the aftermath of a terrible breakup with his fiancée after dinner.

You wondered if Steve felt the same longing for you while you were away.

You focused on that thought over a more terrifying one: if Steve was still alive.

Of course, he was alive. At least he thought he was. Washing up on a mysterious island full of women who seemed to be stuck in Ancient Greece was confusing, to the say the least.

Maybe this is all some crazy lucid dream that I’ll tell (Y/N) when I wake up, he thinks to himself.

Instead, he finds himself on a sailboat, making a makeshift bed out of sheets for Princess Diana. Princess of what, Steve still isn’t so sure.

“What are you doing?” Diana asks from behind him.

“Oh! Uh—” Steve’s mind scrambles for something to say. He will not deny that Diana is one of the most beautiful people’s he’s seen, but with his mind on (Y/N), he finds that she is more of a distraction from getting back home to her. If Steve couldn’t see you, he damn well would like to be left alone with pleasant memories of you. “I thought you’d maybe wanna get some sleep,” he finishes sheepishly, turning around to face her.

He averts his gaze downwards and shuffles out of the way as Diana makes her way to the makeshift bed. “What about you,” she asks, “Are you not sleeping? Does the average man not sleep?”

He stammers over his words a bit, still confused about how to have a conversation with her. “No, it’s just I—,” he pauses and inhales. “Yes, we sleep. But we don’t sleep with…” he finishes, gesturing towards her.

“You don’t sleep with women?”

“No! No, I do sleep with...” he retorts in a flustered manner, letting out an awkward chuckle. He shakes his head again, “Yes, yes I do. But out of the, uh, confines of marriage. It’s just, I don’t—it’s not polite to assume, you know?”

His mind wanders back to you and how you helped guide him through his horrendous breakup with his fiancée. He still doesn’t truly understand how you were able to stay by his side when on some nights, all the two of you would do is sits on his couch and stare. He was grateful, nonetheless.

He remembers one night in particular: the two had stayed at the office late, clocking in late hours to do paperwork and write reports. It was nearing ten in the evening when Steve looked up at you. You sat in the desk across from him with your eyes drooping as you tried not to fall asleep on your hand as you finished a report. He smiles softly before standing up, the legs of the chair scratching the wooden floor.

“You’re done. We’re done. We’re going home,” he declares, packing his stuff into a briefcase. You had just enough energy to look up.

“What do you mean ‘we’re done’? Steve, these reports were due a week ago and we started them at five today.”

“Well, our bosses are gonna have to get them later.”

“Steve—“

“Would you rather them read a late and crappy report or a little more late but extremely thorough report? Besides, this report isn’t even important.”

Your silence gives him his answer.

He walks over to you and begins packing your stuff as you let out an exasperated sigh, mumbling about how he was a bad influence and how the report was never going to be ‘extremely thorough’ anyways.

The two of you lock up the office and walk through the lobby, the marble floors echoing your footsteps in the empty building. As soon as the two of you step outside, you stop at the curb as Steve crosses the street.

As soon as he realizes the click in your heel and the warmth you radiated from standing beside him went away, he turned around an called back at you, “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for a cab,” you say as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Sweetheart, it’s late and I know you can take care of yourself, but I don’t want you waiting out here this late,” he rants, not caring that the term of endearment escaped him. He cared about your wellbeing more than he did his pride.

You roll your eyes at him as you pull the trench coat you have on tighter around your body, “Do you propose that I walk home then?”

He scoffs and walks towards his car, opening the passenger door for you, “Just get in the damn car.”

You were never really one to deny a request from Steve, so you slid into his car.

Though you want to keep a conversation with him, the cool air and his smooth driving are enough to make you fall asleep against the leather passenger seat. Every now and then, Steve finds himself sneaking glances at you, then at himself in the reflection of the window mirror.

What am I doing? he thinks to himself as he watches you, lovestruck. Though he just got out of a messy relationship, he didn’t fear loving you. He didn’t fear getting close to you because he knew that you were different from his ex and would never hurt him.

He parks his car in front of your apartment building and helps you out of the car and up the stairs. It is a struggle trying to open your apartment door while bearing most of your weight as you nuzzle your face into his chest, too tired to care if you are being embarrassed.

Steve helps you inside and helps you change out of your jacket and shoes. He helps you remove your formal wear so just the slip dress underneath covers your body. You are too tired to feel uncomfortable and Steve has too much respect for you to look anywhere but your face. He helps you to bed and spends a few minutes sitting beside your head stroking you hair until he is sure you have fallen asleep, just as you had done to him when you had found him drinking away his sorrows and helping him get home safely.

Somewhere in between, you falling asleep and the morning, Steve had also fallen asleep in your bed. He woke up and the break of dawn with his arms wrapped around your waist and your head on his chest. Though he knows that it is best for everyone if he leaves, he lets himself enjoy this moment of tranquility. For a moment, everything else washes away and it is just you and him, basking in the morning light. He places a soft kiss on your head before hesitantly climbing out of bed and driving home.

When he arrives to work that morning, changed and showered, you are already sitting at your desk finishing your report. You smile at him as he sits down but immediately continue working.

Steve lets out a sigh (of relief or disappointment, he can’t tell). You didn’t know that he fell asleep in your bed last night.

Maybe it’s best for everyone if she doesn’t know, he thinks to himself. He never brings it up.

“Marriage?” Diana asks him, and he is snapped back to reality.

“Marriage. Do you not have that on…,” he sighs, remembering Patricia, his ex-fiancée. “You go before a judge and you swear to love, honour and cherish each other until death does you part,” he mutters quickly.

“And do they? Love each other until death?”

He wants to laugh, cry, and scream. But instead, he answers, “Not very often, no.”

“Then why do they do it?”

Steve finds himself speechless. He was once hopelessly in love with a woman who did not love him to propose, only to have his heart and emotions served back to him in a casket with her signature all over it. “I…have no idea,” he finds himself saying, chuckling at the end as he hopes to relieve his own discomfort.

“So, you cannot sleep with me unless a marry you,” Diana states.

“I will sleep with you if you want!” he finally answers with a joking tone, hoping to appease her. “I will sleep right there.”

“There’s plenty of room.”

“Then, fine, if you don’t mind…”

“No, it’s up to you.”

“I know it’s up to me, I’m making the choice. I will come to sleep with you.”

Diana chuckles softly in slight confusing at Steve’s sudden edge at the topic of marriage, “Okay.”

Steve stands up to lay down beside her but is certain to keep a respectable amount of distance between them. He lies rigidly and awkwardly beside her as Diana shift to face him, resting her chin on her hands.

He suddenly feels embarrassed by how he behaved when Diana mentioned marriage, and how easily distracted he was when his mind drifted to (Y/N). “You know where I come from, I’m not considered average,” he starts, already cringing at his own need to protect his pride. “You know, being a spy, you have to show a certain amount of…vigor,” he finishes lamely.

“Are there no women spies, where you come from?”

His heart skips a beat, “There’s not a lot, to be honest, almost none. There’s uh—well there’s my partner.”

“Your partner? As in your partner in marriage?” she pegs on.

“No! I uh, no. No just my, uh…partner. In spy work. My spy partner,” he stutters. He hopes that Diana is poor at picking up social cues, as his answer was blatantly showcasing his true feelings.

“Will I meet her? When we go to the mainland,” she asks after a beat.

“Yeah, I mean—I hope you will. Unless she went off on an assignment or something.”

“Tell me about her.”

Steve clears his throat, suddenly feeling warm. “She’s smart. Kind. Loves her family, would do anything for them, really. Trustworthy, she always has my back. Caring, forgiving, reliable. An excellent listener…”

Diana listened as Steve continued to list things off about his partner. The way his face lit up and his eyes sparkled was a reflection of how her mother looked at her. This is love, Diana concluded, Maybe, this is the reason why people get married.

taglist: @sebastianstanfoundmymixtape, @accio-rogers, @lionheo04, @stupendoussciencenaturepanda

[remasteredinnuendo]

Blue Bayou Part IV

Synopsis: Ben is nervous as he prepares for Bohemian Rhapsody. But just as he thinks nerves will get the best of him, he’s introduced to a woman who might just be the muse he needs. Inspired by the song Blue Bayou by Linda Ronstadt

Warnings: Insecurities

Info: This is the last official part of Blue Bayou, but I think I’ll do a separate epilogue! Let me know what you think!

Part IV:

Tonight was the Oscars, and they had all been waiting in Roger Taylor’s hotel foyer for twenty-five minutes. The limousine was outside, ready for them all. Every man was dressed in their black suit and buffed shoes, though Ben hadn’t quite gotten the memo. He was in white, and stood out. But lately that didn’t bother him.

They had been waiting on one single person now: Emmy herself.

Nobody quite knew why she was taking so long. She had, after all, come to visit Sarina so they could both get ready at the same time. Roger’s wife was all done up and finished, but Emmy was nowhere to be seen. Not even a glimpse. And though no one said they had seen her, there were plenty of whispers.

 Ben stood off to the side, watching everything patiently. The cast of Bohemian Rhapsody were all huddled together, Rami keeping an arm around Lucy’s waist as they all laughed together. Joe and Gwilym were already wondering where they’d get some snacks before the ceremony. Sarina Taylor was pacing up and down the foyer on her phone, looking rather concerned. And Roger and Brian were chatting quietly to one another, looking calm as anyone could.

Until Sarina marched up to the two of them with her hands on her hips, cellphone clutched in her hand. “All right,” she declared, sounding impatient and not particularly quiet. “One of us have to go up there and drag her out. Freddie would never forgive any of us if we let her do this.”

“I don’t want to force her,” Brian said quietly, looking across the foyer to his wife, Anita, who was busy speaking to another woman who admired her gown.

Sarina smacked his arm. “She’s scared! Rightly so. You two and John spent so long hiding her from the media that now she feels she has to do this. Worse, she wants to. For her fathers. And she doesn’t know how to work with that.”

Listening in on people’s conversations wasn’t something Ben made a habit of. But he couldn’t pry himself from this one. Sarina wasn’t particularly quiet about it all. In fact, she didn’t seem to care who overheard her because she seemed quite concerned about the one party they were waiting for.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before approaching the famous group. “I can speak to Emmy, if you think it’ll help.”

Roger caught his eye, and they both knew Ben was asking for his permission. The rock stars had spent their entire lives caring for Emmy. They had been there when she was a baby and ever since then, too. No one was allowed to break her heart; seemingly not even herself. And that was something he could respect.

Roger shared one look with Brian, feeling the glare from the present wife, and they both nodded. “Don’t come back without her.”

“I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” he replied, and turned on his heel with one hand in his pocket.

The elevator couldn’t come fast enough. When the doors parted and he stepped inside, he pressed for the tenth floor. It gave him a minute to think about what he was going to say. He had heard she was frightened of something. Too frightened to leave for the Oscars ceremony. Sarina had mentioned the media. But how could Emmy, someone so confident, be frightened of anything like that?

There was a dinging sound, signalling he made it to the right floor. He turned the corner to his left and looked for the hotel room 512. His eyes scanned the plaques carefully, making sure he didn’t accidentally miss it. And as he neared, he found his heart pounding a little harder. His suit feeling a little warmer.

And when he found the right door, he raked all of his bravery together and knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And then there was a joked voice on the other side. “Go away!” it demanded. And though it tried to sound big and commanding, it came out rather choked and uneven.

He pressed his forehead against the door and willed it to open. “I’m not leaving.”

There was silence, and then the sound of scurrying on the other side. He heard something landing on the far side of the room with a thud, and wondered what she might have thrown. But he didn’t have much time to contemplate when the locks behind the door came away, and a woman in a yellow dress appeared.

Emmy stood in front of him in the beautiful canary-coloured gown with designs of silver sparkles. It was strapless, showing off her olive-coloured collarbones. The skirt of the gown was shorter at the front, showing off her ankles and the silver strappy heels, whereas the back seemed like the fabric had been gathered and barely brushed across the floor.

She looked breathtaking.

But with her hair pulled back from her face, it was easy to see how pale she was in the cheeks.

“I feel sick,” Emmy stated, as if those words would satisfy him.

When she stepped aside, Ben marched into the room and closed the door behind him before she could change her mind and kick him out. She immediately began to whirl around the space, like she couldn’t bear to stand still. Maybe she couldn’t.

“It’s just nerves,” he told her, walking to the little fridge to grab her a bottle of water. “But this is my first Hollywood award show, too.”

She barely seemed to notice when she took the bottle he offered and sipped. She continued pacing, brows pulled over her eyes with mania. “It’s not that!”

“Then what is it?”

Ben stopped her tornado, encircling her tiny wrist in his fingers and forcing her to still. He led her toward the foot of the bed and forced her to sit. As she sat, it seemed like the reality of the situation truly set in; her breath stuttered in her lungs and her eyes became glassy. Her shoulders slumped, like she was done fighting the idea of defeat and now allowed herself to sink in it.

She took a deep, shaky breath. “The minute I step out of that limousine and my feet touch the red carpet, I’m no longer Emmanuelle Bulsara. I’m Freddie Mercury’s daughter. Jim Hutton’s daughter. A girl who didn’t exist in the eyes of the world until tonight.”

“No one’s asking you to be anyone other than yourself,” he assured her, kneeling down and resting his hands on her knees. The fabric of her gown was so soft.

“The media will tear me apart. People will say I’m only revealing myself now because I want the money from the film,” Emmy told him, shaking her head fiercely as she attempted to chase the tears away. Her makeup was too perfect to smudge with a little bit of water.

Ben couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. For months and months he had been worried about how the media perceived him. What they’d see. And it had been Emmy who had talked him down every single time he thought it was too much. It was Emmy who made him feel like he could do anything. And now here she was, suffering from the same thing. How could someone so kind be unable to help themselves? It was a cruelty of the universe to make such a beautiful, sweet creature so sad.

“Don’t laugh at me, Ben Jones!” she said half-heartedly, smacking his shoulder. She couldn’t bite back the tiny smile on her lips.

“I don’t mean to, darling,” he promised. “But the tables certainly have turned.”

She wiped her nose and stared down at her hands. “Roger phoned me and asked me to sing Blue Bayou. And singing it seemed so hard and everything took thought and planning. And then the movie happened, and it felt like my regular surroundings didn’t fit me anymore.”

He was silent, listening to her intently, rubbing circles on her knees through her gown.

“But as I spend time in the world everyone tried so hard to shield me from, I feel like I know who I am again. I love music. I love Roger and Brian and John. I miss seeing them as often as I have since filming. But the press will be so confused, and because of that, I’ll be left wondering if I should’ve just stayed at home in my own little world.”

Ben snatched her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles, commanding her attention. “There are no photographs in papers of your face because you were Queen’s little secret. There are no articles about your life. Just the lives of your fathers. And that’s because your uncles didn’t want to make the decision of notoriety for you.”

She gave him a gentle smile, trying so hard to pull herself together.

“But they made this film for Freddie. For both of your dads. And they didn’t think it’d be right to do it without you,” Ben stated, feeling her relax ever so slightly. “They want you at the Oscars because you are the muse. They don’t care about anyone else— the press and the media. They care about you. Why would anyone else matter?”

Emmy exhaled, and this time it was smooth. There was no hesitation. No worry in the small act.

“You don’t have to go. None of us will force you. But if you decide not to go because you’re worried about everyone else, rather than for you, you’ll know you made the wrong decision.”

She stared at him, eyes roaming over his face like she was trying to memorize every line. His breath hitched when she leaned her forehead against his, a soft smile on her face. She gently pushed him away and Ben was surprised. Until he realized it was so she could stand.

Emmy smoothed her gown out, no tears on her cheeks, and nodded to him. “Well, get up Ben. We’ve got places to be.”

He stood, grinning like an idiot as she weaved her arm through his. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“As long as you’re with me, I think I’m ready for anything.”

Ben’s heart squeezed in his chest, and he allowed himself to press a kiss to her temple as they left the room.

Ready to take on the world.