#the process is just me every hour bouncing from yo this is turning out okay holy shit i kind of like it

[hobie-enthusiast]

I really love how you write!! I was wondering if you could so smth with hobie x autistic + sunshine!reader? I'm autistic, and i've constantly been belittled for it so it'd mean a lot to see my biggest cc with an autistic reader!! If you're worried about how to approach it maybe you could do smth like reader using noise canceling headphones? or like comforting when reader had an autistic meltdown?? Ofc these are just ideas, whatever you wna do!! Also don't fret if you don't want to do this request, just wanted to ask !!! ^w^

Oh and gender neutral with they/them pronouns please!! 🫶

- 🎀 anonymous

(Emoji signoffs are so cute!! hoping you don't mind me adding one !!!)

QUIET AND EASE !

— hobie brown x energetic!autistic!gn!reader

— fluff and comfort, autistic meltdown, noise canceling headphones, petnames (sweetheart, love), hobie’s worried and nervous, sensory overload, breakdowns due to loud noises, almost panic attacks

— time with your friends was always nice, but sometimes it got to be too much, and hobie is always there to help

— ill do u one better anon how about incorporating both 🫶 also ofc you can have an emoji! thank u for ur support!

— official disclaimer: the following fic and reader experience is based on my experience and also other aspects i have read up on. every autistic person is different, and they won’t all have this exact reaction when it comes to a meltdown. so pls keep that in mind when reading :) if anything seems wrong please feel free to tell me!

Everything was so so loud.

The two of you agreed two have friends over, a small hangout. It had been a while since everyone had hung out, so Hobie suggested hosting them. You agreed, wanting to see everyone again after a while.

You welcomed everyone excitedly, wanting to show off your place. “Hey guys! Come on in, let me give you a tour!”

You dragged them all around the apartment, pointing out various things that maybe they didn’t notice. Your favourites; some hanging pictures, pieces, and collectables.

The other owner of the place, Hobie, couldn’t help but smile a bit at your excited nature. That’s just how you were, naturally excited about your interests. He encouraged that, loving the way you seem to know so much about these types of things.

After a tour and explanations you so graciously provided, you ushered everyone to grab some dinner or snacks. You had some entertainment planned out, so you and Hobie let everyone decide what they wanted to do. It was a nice time, and you enjoyed your friend’s company.

But soon, they just got too rowdy for your liking. It was about a couple hours into get-together and Miles and Pavitr decided it would be a great idea to play some board and card games. Of course, the competitive nature led to some yelling between the teens.

You tapped out of the game a while ago, feeling an anxious nerve tapping at the back of your head. You hoped it was nothing. That you could continue enjoying your friend’s company.

Definitely not the case.

“Oh come on! I had it that round!” Miles groaned loudly, nudging Gwen. “I would have won!”

“But you didn’t! I remain the victor!” Pavitr declares loudly, collecting all the cards.

Hobie laughs lowly, finding amusement in the banter among the younger ones. It was nice hearing everyone just able to relax and not worry about their duties. Well, there was one person he hadn’t heard from in a minute.

The older turned to you, noticing the way you seemed to just be.. staring out. Your hands were messing with one another, and your leg was bouncing crazily. Your eyes were glassy, almost as if..

Oh. Oh no.

Subtly, Hobie scoots closer to you, minding himself to not touch you. “Doin’ okay, love?”

The words go into your head, you hear them. But it’s difficult to process. Were you okay? Was this okay? No, it wasn’t, but can you even say that? Should you tell him? Will you tell him? So many overwhelming questions.

“I-”

“Oh come on! You have to be cheating!”

A particularly loud yell from Miles causes you to flinch, head dropping to your knees. No, you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Tears sprang to your eyes quickly as your body rocks, hands harshly pushing against your ears.

This is when Hobie knew he had to spring into action. “Guys, c’mon, ‘s time t’ get goin’.”

Everyone looks up at Hobie, confused, with Gwen being first to speak up. “What? Hobie, we just got here?”

“‘m sorry, but you can come back ‘nother time. Please.” He requests, ushering everyone to stand up.

As Hobie tries to get everyone out and away, you’re off in your own world. Your head was spinning, all your sense coming at you at full force. Everything was crashing down on you, and you couldn’t stop it.

Once he managed to get everyone out, his feet were moving him to your shared room. He needed the essentials; your blanket, your headphones, and your phone. He’d get more once you asked, certainly. Rushing back to you, he kneels down, hands glued to his thighs.

“Hey swee’heart..” He says in a really quiet whisper, not wanting to upset you further. “‘m gonna put these on ya, okay? Jus’ real quick, then ‘m done.. I’ll be right over here for ya.”

He knew these types of things could be harmful, you told him that before. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally hurt him. But letting you know what he’s doing helped a small part of your brain, one trying to gain regulation.

Carefully, Hobie moves to put your headphones on your head, the noise from the outside world coming to a halt. He moves back after, hands in your view as he backs up. That’s how he shows that he’s away, letting you have your space.

Next, he mimics your position, drawing his knees to his chest. Hobie’s nervous, he couldn’t deny, but all he could do was sit and wait. You needed your space, and he would be here to help you with the aftermath.

And then he just.. waits.

Once the sound is blocked out, that’s one less worry on your mind. You focus next on the tears streaming down your face. Everything felt sore, your mind was hurting. That made you want to cry.

You bit your lip as you shake your hands, trying to get some sort of stability. You focus on the movement of your hand, watching the rings Hobie let you steal jangle together. No doubt they make a nice sound, Hobie probably hears it.

Your brain waves start to slow down, you can tell. Without the overwhelming sense, you start to feel at ease. Some thoughts are able to run through.

‘Breathe. Think. Safe.’

You try your hardest to repeat these words in your head, continuously stimming as the tears finally stop. Without the horrible feeling of crying, it’s somewhat easier to understand what’s happening. The loud sounds were gone. You were okay.

By the time you managed to gain more of yourself, your head was hurting badly. Glancing up, you notice the way Hobie was looking at you. He had a worried expression. He didn’t wear it often, but he was now. He was nervous for you.

He gives a small wave, gaining a small laugh from you as you wave back. Then, he holds out his hand, giving you the option to take it. He wants nothing more than to hold and comfort you, he wants to help make you feel secure.

You cautiously take his hand, allowing him to wrap his arms around you. This instantly made you melt in his embrace. Exhaustion was catching up with you.

But things could be okay now. You were alone with Hobie, someone you trusted immensely.

Hobie was relieved when you allowed yourself to be embraced by him. He felt better knowing he could give you this sense of comfort. It was better than being able to do nothing.

Gently, he kisses your forehead when he feels your body slumping. “Mhm.. rest, swee’heart.. ‘m here..”

He knew his words were blocked by your headphones, but he still whispered them anyways. Almost like assuring himself. Everything was okay. You were okay.

Hobie decided that tonight was a good night for a sleep on the floor. He grabs your blanket, putting it over both of your bodies while lying back. He lets you adjust your body so you can sleep comfortably with the headphones on, which happens to be on his side with hands intertwined.

He was comfortable. You were comfortable. And he could easily fall asleep knowing that you would wake up and hopefully feel as good as you did earlier that day.

[gh0stbra1nz]

love has always been cradled in the sea's waves for billy

[marvinswriting]

a beautiful roar (that’s in my head)- one

THIS IS A NEW AU?!?!?!? AND A NEW MULIT CHAPTERED FIC?

welcome to the first fic in the mean heathers au. thats right. a crossover au. bear and i have so many hcs and ideas about this au, and this was so much fun to write. keep in mind, this is only chapter one....much more to come

Tw: d slu, the ususal

mean heathers au ft bmc

Veronica stared at the hotel room laid out before her.

"Well, it's nice." Heather McNamara said, stepping into the room and lowering her suitcase.

"Yeah."

It was a nice hotel room. A bathroom, mini corner kitchen, two beds, a closet, and a dresser. Just- 

very small.

"Remind me why we're here again?" Veronica places her suitcase on the edge of the bed Mac didn't pick.

"Veronica," Heather says resembling a disappointed mother. "We are here for Ram and Kurt. This is a big sport tournament for them and we're lucky enough to be able to come here through the school."

"And?"

"And it's an excuse not to be in school." Heather finishes.

"Mhmm." Veronica teases.

Westerburg was attending some big event for schools across the nation. It featured sports for both tinies and giant and was only for the best of the best teams.

To have the tiny football team here was an honor.

"Maybe they'll fund the teams properly now," Heather said. "The tiny cheer squad and the football team have always been the better ones. They just won't fund us because we're smaller. Literally."

Veronica cackles, flopping on her bed. "This is why I don't bother with sports."

Heather grins. "No, it's just because you're lazy."

"Yo! Heather! Ronnie!" The hotel door swings open, Kurt popping his head in. "Heather wants us in the lobby, stat."

Veronica rolls her eyes standing up as Kurt disappears. "We should remember to lock that door."

"Yeah." Mac grins, getting up. "Better not keep them waiting."

The lobby was a lot nicer than the tiny room, as most things are. It was furnished with expensive-looking couches and fancy coffee tables. Sitting at one of those nice sofas already was Duke, Chandler, and JD.

Veronica, Heather, Ram, and Kurt stood at the platform where the tiny hotel ended, flagging down their friends. 

Chander noticed them first, whispering something to Duke before the green Heather got up and walked over. 

"Hi, Heather." Mac said.

"Hello, Heather."

Even to this day, the whole Heather, Heather, and Heather never got any less confusing for Veronica. 

Duke let Veronica and Heather on her shoulder before scooping up Ram and Kurt. 

She walked back over to the coffee table, dropping the two jocks roughly. 

Veronica and Mac stayed on the shoulder, where it was safer.

"So, what I was about to say," Duke continued what she was talking about before grabbing the tinies. "Another school here, Northshore, they're here for soccer and football, their HBIC is a tiny. Regina George."

"Really?" Chandler's eyebrows raised.

"Mhmm." Duke nods. "Their social hierarchy is all out of wack too. Regina kicked a friend off the squad and ruined her social life only to befriend her again later, with her social life still ruined. And the tiny got replaced by a giant only for Regina to rule again."

"Must be one strong tiny." Mac said.

"Or a little bitch." JD offered, not even bothering to look up from his phone. 

"It could be both." Veronica said.

"Wait I'm not done."

"Do tell more. I feel like I'm hearing the summary of a bad Netflix show."

"There's rumors of this dude, Damian. He's punched Shane Omen."

"Shane Omen?!" Chandler leaned forward. "You're kidding."

Northshore and Westerburg might not be close schools, but popular kids know popular kids, no matter what. Veronica who was still fairly new to the popular kid life- had no idea who Shane Omen was.

Gotta be a pretty big asshole to get a reaction like that out of Chandler though.

"Jesus, okay. Let's not piss off this Damian."

Duke nodded. "Apparently broke his nose."

"Really?"

"Damian's got a tiny friend, Jane, Janis, something with a J. Shane was fucking with her- as one does- and Damian just decked him."

"So, all I'm hearing is that J girl is off-limits," JD says.

"You're not threatening tinies." Veronica scolds.

"It is fun to do though," Duke says.

Veronica held the shoulder underneath her tighter.

Her giant friends would never actually hurt her, but that didn't mean they didn't like to fuck around.

"Ha! Shane's a loser." Kurt said from the table.

"You've never met him," Duke says. "Quiet."

"Who is Shane?" Veronica asks tentatively.

"A boy Heather and I would party with a couple of summers back," Chandler explained. "He came to Westerburg every summer up until highschool. Biggest asshole I've ever met but man. He's a pretty good kisser."

Okay.

Sure.

"I wonder if Shane's here this year since Northshore is here." Duke questions out loud. 

"Maybe. Northshore is here for tiny soccer and giant football." Mac answers.

"Two? Holy shit." Ram exclaims from the table. "You think we could take on their giant football team?"

"They'd use you as the ball." Duke deadpans.

-

"This place is big and loud and I'm just not having a good time." Janis sinks further into Damian's jacket pocket. 

"We're doing it for Aaron, love." He reminds her, opening the door to the hotel room Damian has.

Janis was supposed to share with Regina, but since Damian got his own room, well- Janis was definitely staying with him. 

"Couldn't we have just gotten him a 'wow you're a good soccer player' card and moved on?"

Damian chuckled. "No, sweets. We're good friends. Unless you just want a card next art show you win."

Janis huffed but provided no further argument.

Aaron was playing a game right now, actually, but the rest of the gang had to check-in. If they rushed, they could probably make it to the end of the game. 

Not that it mattered. Tiny games were recorded and live-streamed into a theater where giants could watch or playback later on the tournament's website. It wasn't the same as being in the bleachers watching the game live.

Still, Damian dropped their luggage and went to meet everyone else back in the lobby.

Cady was already in the streaming room, supporting her tiny as usual. Gretchen picked up Regina and met Damian and Karen before walking to the rooms themselves. 

The room was pretty empty because once again- replay online. 

Cady saved three seats in the front row for the other giants and grinned hen everyone sat down. 

"It's a tie with one minute left."

"I don't understand soccer," Janis said, trying to make sense of the commotion on screen. 

The ball was passed to Aaron and she watched as he dribbled it down the field, shooting it into the goal. 

The goalie reached out but the ball just bounced past the tips of his fingers, landing in the net as the whistle blew.

Cady jumped up with a cheer. "Yeah!"

"Did Aaron score a winning goal? I don't understand soccer." Gretchen asks with a nervous laugh.

"Yes!"

"Is that good?" Janis says.

"Yes, it's good! Northshore won the first match!"

"Hell yeah!" Regina cheered.

The live stream ended as Cady called Aaron.

"Where do we meet you?"

There was silence as Aaron responded to Cady, something the rest of the gang couldn't make out.

"Okay, we'll see you there."

Cady hangs up the phone turning to her friends. "The team is taking the bus back to the tiny part of the hotel, Aaron will meet us in the lobby."

"Okay but how long with that take," Janis says. "Tiny bus means a long ride."

"Bout an hour."

"So let's explore for an hour!" Karen says. "This place is huge."

-

"I don't think I can put into words how badly I hope you fall." Duke remarked, watching Kurt trying to do pull-ups hanging off the edge of the table.

Veronica laughed from her spot on JD's shoulder. "Ram, push him."

"Okay."

No hesitation, the jock pried his friend's fingers off the edge of the counter.

Chandler rolled her eyes. "None of you know how to act."

"Please be careful." Heather McNamara said worryingly, peering over the edge of the table where Kurt fell.

"You don't have to be." Duke sneered.

 "Heather." Chandler turned to the girl sitting next to her. "I want to go look around. Come with me. JD, please try not to kill the tinies."

"Okay, Heather." Duke stood up, lifting Kurt back to the table in the process.

"Heather, you're in charge." Chandler pointed to the small girl on the table.

"Okay!"

"So, tell me moth about the other schools."

Veronica watched as both giants walked away, their conversation fading. 

-

"You've reached Regina's voicemail. Either I'm busy talking shit about you or I don't want to talk to you. You know what to do, beep!"

Janis sighed, lowering the phone from her ear and looking around the room.

She lost Regina about ten minutes ago and there was still no sign of the blonde.

The was on one of the rooms off the lobby that was tiny accessible. More specifically, she was standing on the tiny platform. 

There were lots of people in the room, both big and small, but no Regina Geroge.

Janis's eyes trail over the giant crowd, trying to find some of her bigger friends.

"You lost, shortie?" A voice calls out.

Janis looked to see who girls, both wearing ridiculous costumes, staring at her.

The girl who spoke was wearing green and had sleek black hair tied into a low ponytail by a scrunchie.

"No, I'm not." Janis states flatly.

Shes had enough of asshole giants from Northshore. She doesn't need it from other schools.

The girl in red looks her up and down silently. She gave off an entitled vibe and Janis didn't like it. Very pre-bus Regina. 

"Can I help you?"

The red chick suddenly reached out and Janis stepped back.

"Use your words, not your hands, bitch."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"My name is Heather Chandler. You don't get to talk to me like that."

Who does this bitch think she was? Heather Chandler. Okay? Doesn't change anything. 

Janis was having a pretty shitty day She didn't need this.

"And I'm Janis Sarkisian. Great, we're on a first-name basis. Leave me the fuck alone."

The green chick seemed to have a moment of recognition but didn't vocalize it. Before Janis could say anything about it, a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Sorry for leaving you, I saw somebody I knew." Regina explained. "C'mon, Damian's looking for you. Don't want him to lose it."

Jains groaned. "He needs to stop worrying about me."

"Damian?" Heather asked. "Are you two- from Northshore?"

If Janis didn't know any better she'd say she looked scared.

"What's it to you?" 

"No, it's nothing. Never mind. Sorry about earlier." 

Heather turned away, dragging her friend with her.

"What was that?" Regina asked.

"No fucking clue," Janis said, turning to the tiny exit. "Let's go."

They walked through the tiny halls, making their way to the lobby. "Those girls were confusing," Janis said. "One minute it's all, I'm Heather Chandler, don't talk to me like that, and the next its all, I'm so sorry. What a bitch."

"Okay, somebody isn't having a good day."

"No, I'm not. Thanks for noticing."

The anxiety of being in a whole new crowded place, mixed with exhaustion, and just lots of things going wrong today was the perfect formula for a pending breakdown.

"I need a nap."

"Ohhh me too," Regina said as they entered the lobby. "Let me call Gretchen, let her know we're here. Oh, twelve missed calls from Janis."

"Yeah. Stupid."

The whole gang sat at one of the dining tables where the hotel was hosting a Sunday bar in celebration of kicking off the tournaments. Gretchen dropped Janis and Regina off at the tiny table to get food telling them to flag her down when they were done.

To be honest, Janis wasn't that hungry. Just tired. So fucking tired.

"Yo! Space Dyke!"

God damnit.

"Not today, Shane. Seriously."

Regina and Janis turn around to see Shane Omen, backed up by a boy they've never seen before.

Janis huffs stepping back as Shane reaches his hand. "Dude. Not fucking kidding."

Not that she's kidding normally. But, with a new environment and piles of stress, she might just start sobbing.

Like that would hinder Shane anyway.

"Please, I just want to introduce you to my friend."

"We've heard a lot about the little space alien." The friend sneers.

Space alien over dyke anyway.

Whatever. 

Janis was pretty desensitized to the name. 

"Well, now you've met me. Leave me alone."

"Damn, she's got a bite, huh?"

Bite.

Not a bad idea.

Regina wrapped her arm around Janis. "Shane. Please take you and your goons and leave."

Shane grins. "This ain't Northshore, Reggie. You think I'll listen to you?"

"It be in your best interest too." A voice calls behind Shane.

The duo turns around to give view to Gretchen and Damian- neither looking too pleased.

Shane's friend shugs. "And what would you do about it?"

Gretchen raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

Without a warning, a hand grabs Janis off the platform. "What. Would. You. Do. About. It?"

Why doesn't Regina get picked up and messed with?

"Hey!" Janis pushed at the fingers wrapped around her. This was pretty par for a school day, but-

This was supposed to be a fun week to support Aaron.

What the hell.

"Put her down!" Damian steps forward. 

"And who are you to do anything about it?"

Gretchen pauses for a moment before ginning, stepping next to Damian. "That's Damian Hubbard."

Shane's friend holding me laughs. "Damian? You're kidding. Shane- this is the dude who broke your nose?"

Shane huffs but can't defend himself over his friend's laughter.

"Jesus, and here I thought I should be worried."

The fist around Janis tightens, further then Shane's ever fucking done.

She almost preferred Shane. 

Almost.

"Stop-" She couldn't breathe.

Her ribs hurt.

What the fuck.

"What you gonna do about it, Damian." The dude holding Janis mocks. "Punch me? I'd like to see you try."

"Oh fuck! Get em, Damian!" Regina cheers.

If Janis could breathe, maybe she'd laugh.

There's a whacking sound as the fist around her releases and Janis can only assume Damian did fact, punch him.

She had bigger worries though as she went from an extreme lack of air to being surrounded by nothing but-

This truly felt like your average school week. 

It felt just like Northshore.

The hands, the grabbing, the freefall and the-

Janis landed on a warm surface just like normal

-the catch.

Damian's fingers wrapped around Janis the second she was securely in his hand. 

Janis looked up as she was brought to Damian's chest to see Shane's friend bent over, holding his nose.

Regina was cheering, still on the ice cream bar counter.

"What the fuck was that for?" Shane asked stepping forwards aggressively.

Damian shrugged. "Did he not literally say he wanted to see me try?"

"Yes, he did!" Regina grinned.

Y'know when a cornered dog lashes out? Yeah, Shane resembled that.

He stepped towards the tiny platform. "You're a fucking bitch Regina George. I hope you know that. I could fucking kill you if I-"

"Hey, Shane?" Gretchen tapped him on the shoulder, making him turn around. 

"Wha-"

There was a loud smack that echoed through the room- over the other conversations around up. 

Shane's hand shot to his cheek. "Did you just slap me?"

"I'll do it again." Gretchen stood to her full height, chest to chest with Shane. "Fuck. Off."

Janis felt Damian's fingers tighten around her. Not painfully just- defensively.

Fortunately, Shane and his friend walked away, both clutching their faces.

"I guess that solidifies the rumors," Gretchen mumbled, glancing over the crowd, most of whom were staring at the four of them.

"What rumors?" Regina asked, allowing herself to be scooped up by Gretchen.

"Nothing lets just- eat ice cream."

-

Heather and Veronica sat in one of the tiny spaces in the hotel.

They were just little areas with sofas and vending machines but- they were tiny-sized and it was nice.

"Have you seen Kurt or Ram?" Heather asked. 

"No, maybe it's for the best. They're probably doing something stupid." Veronica said, glancing up from her phone. 

"Yeah."

Three kids their age walked into the room, making way to the vending machine. Veronica didn't may them much mind, a lot of students stay at the hotel for the event, there have been lots of kids walking in and out. They typically didn't interact.

"Um, excuse me?"

Typically.

Veronica looked up to see a girl with two-toned length hair. She wore a baggy denim jacket covered in paint and fancy patterned fishnets.

"Do you happen to know a Heather Chandler?"

"Uh, yes? Why?" Heather responded.

The girl shrugged. "You all have a similar get-up. Wasn't sure if it was a coincidence." She stepped closer as her friends finished up at the vending machine. "I'm Janis."

"Veronica."

"Heather."

Janis' eyebrows raised. "Two Heather's in the same friend group? Doesn't that get confusing?"

"Actually there's three. And yes, it's confusing as fuck." Veronica nods.

Janis grinned. "Sounds rough."

The boy she was with stood next to her holding candy from the machine. "I'm Aaron, the girl kicking the vending machine for her chips is Regina."

There's a clunk and Regina bends down. "Got it!"

Janis shook her head. "Well Heather and Veronica, maybe we'll see you around."

The trio waved bye and they turned down the hall, their voices fading.

Heather waved after them before turning back to Veronica. "Well, they seem nice!"

oh ho ho when i say me and bear have talked about this for weeks- i mean weeks. this will be fun

@realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

[amethystunarmed]

Will Set You Free

Relationships: Dabi/Hawks

Warnings: Manga Spoilers, Referenced Child Abuse

Word Count:  3604

Part of the Truth Series Part 1 Part 3

AO3 Link

~~~

Dabi takes Hawks to the League. But will he be allowed to stay?

~~~

Hawks had been to the Paranormal Liberation Front’s headquarters numerous times at this point. He’d helped Toga decide between fabrics for the curtains for her room, discussed furniture layouts in the common room with Mr. Compress, had witnessed Twice wake Dabi from a nap and cause him to melt a handprint into the couch. Once, when Dabi had called him in at some god-awful hour in the morning, Hawks had nearly tripped over Spinner crouched on the floor playing Grand Theft Auto. He knew that the League lived here, had made this place their home.

Still, the normalcy of it still surprises him. Everytime he opens the door, he expects the couches and cushions to have been replaced by torture devices and chandeliers of bones. He always expects their villain lair to look, well, villainous. And every time, he is wrong.

Toga and Twice are relaxing together on the couches when they entered, Twice with his head in Toga’s lap. He’s masked, and just listening calmly as she babbles to him about some beautiful girl she saw on the subway. It’s a wholesome and domestic sight, one that still makes Hawks feel like his world is tilting out of control. The two look up when the door opens, and Toga’s face lights up. She squeals at a high enough pitch to make Hawks’s ears ring, and shoves Twice off her lap. He yelps, and falls onto the floor, and just lies there, face-down. From the ground he yells, “I’m okay! That hurt like a bitch!” Toga doesn’t seem to notice his complaints or Hawks himself. She only has eyes for Dabi.

“Do you have my donuts?” Toga says, bouncing on her toes. She is gripping onto Dabi’s coat, making herself tall enough to flash her fangs in his face. There is a knife in her hand, nearly brushing Dabi’s cheek. Dabi rolls his eyes, totally unaffected by the many dangerous weapons near his jugular. He ruffles her hair and shoves her off, with just enough force to get his personal space back.

“Not today brat,” he snaps without heat, “Had other things to focus on.” He jabs a thumb in Hawks’s direction.

“Donuts?” Hawks asks. He is struck with a sudden image of Dabi walking into a League meeting with a Mister Donut box, and he thinks the mere concept will cause his brain to bluescreen.

“Pig’s blood donuts!” Toga cheers, as though this is supposed to make Hawks less confused. “Dabi always gets them for me on his way home from visiting you!” In the back of his head, Hawks remembers a news story about protests outside a alternative Qurik lifestyle bakery near his apartment. Hawks wonders if that’s the same place Dabi goes to.

“Psh, only because it shuts you up for half an hour,” Dabi says, and though Toga squawks with indignance, a faint smile never leaves Dabi’s face. Hawks remembers Dabi’s comment earlier about his family and it’s like a picture frame defogs.

“Oh, you take care of her because she reminds you of your siblings,” Hawks notes, and immediately covers his face with his hands, “Oh fuck.”

Toga gasps with joy and Dabi groans.

“Birdie, I’m gonna have to duct tape your mouth shut.”

“Please do.” This is humiliating, Hawks thought, and suddenly his hands were being ripped away from his face. Toga is bouncing in front of him now, million watt grin now aimed at him.

“Dabi told you about his family?” Toga screeches, and before the “yes” can be pulled out from him, Toga is already barreling to the next point. “He never talks about his past, says it doesn’t matter. I think he just wants to keep his bad boy image, but of course he’d tell you!”

“Toga!” Dabi yells, but Hawks can barely process him, because Toga just keeps talking and she’s right in his face and his head is spinning.

“I can’t believe I never thought of it!” Hawks tries to lean away from her, but Toga just tugs him back into place. “It should have been obvious! You have to–” Toga’s eyes dial in on him, and everything about her lessens. Her heels fall flat on the floor, the corners of her smile fall from cheekbones. Even her blinking, which had been fluttering fast in her excitement, becomes practically nonexistent as she drinks in Hawks’s face. Her free hand (the one not accidentally holding a knife to his throat) reaches forward and brushes the skin under his eye. He hisses at the unexpected pain. They were still tender from crying...

Oh no.

Toga’s head whipped toward Dabi, uncharacteristic malice on her face.

“What did you do!”

“What the hell, why do you think I did something?” Dabi sputtered.

“He was crying!” Toga waves her arms in protest and Hawks has to duck under her knife. “Of course it’s your fault!”

“Toga has a point. Make him cry more!” Twice adds. He still is on the ground, for reasons Hawks will probably never comprehend. At least he’s sitting up now.

Toga turns back to Hawks, all the rage gone from her face. She pets his hair and he warbles happily. Hawks’s head has always been a weak spot for him. He used to beg his handlers to preen his hair, to the point that they banned touching his hair at all in an attempt to break him from the habit. He learned later that hawks preen each other’s heads as a sign of community and acceptance, since they can’t reach the spot themselves. A conditioned part of him still feels shame at the way he melts to the touch, but the bird in him can’t help but be excited by the accepting gesture from his flockmate.

“What did the mean man do to you?” Toga coos. Hawks’s answer is more of a half-slurred hum.

“He asked questions and I answered them.”

“Dabi, what–”

“Look, I promise I’ll explain everything,” Dabi interjects, “But first I need to talk to Shigaraki, do you know where he is?”

Toga opens her mouth to answer but a voice from the hallway beats her to it.

“Trying to ignore all the yelling.”

And there, standing with his arms crossed and a petulant frown on his face, was the man Hawks was sent by the commission to find.

Shigaraki Tomura.

If all I needed to do to meet him was cry, the Commission should have just sent me after one of my debriefs, Hawks thinks hysterically.

Shigaraki looks Hawks up and down, and huffs.

“This the recruit you’ve been spending so much time with?” Shigaraki says, “And here I thought you’d finally recruited a party member worth playing.”

“He’s joining.” There’s no room for argument in Dabi’s voice. Shigaraki raises an eyebrow.

“Really. You think the number two hero should join the inner circle of the League of Villains?” He chuckles. “I knew you were ugly, but I at least thought you were smart.”

“He’s one of us, Shigaraki,” Dabi spits, and Hawks can see a mirage of heated air around his hands. It’s not the first time he’s seen it happen. Hawks wonders if Dabi realized how much of his anger manifests in his quirk. “Hero society chewed him up and spit him out, just like you and Toga and Twice and every other league member. He has a right to be here.”

Shigaraki cackles and the sound makes Hawks wince. It isn’t that the laugh is unhinged and terrifying (though it very much is), it’s that... Well, it isn’t like his handlers haven’t laughed at his complaints before this. He should be used to it by now.

“Really? You expect me to believe the Hero Commission's prized protagonist has a tragic backstory?” Shigaraki snorts, “What’s the worst thing that could have happened to him?”

It isn’t a question directed at Hawks, but it is still one he can answer. And apparently, that is all the quirk needs.

“When I was eight, they started giving me training to resist torture.” Hawks doesn’t want to talk about this. He has never talked to anyone about it and never intended to before today. But Hawks is tired, too tired to try and hold back the information he knows will be dragged out of him anyways. So he lets the words drop from his mouth like stones. “They still needed me to be physically able to training so the Commission brought in someone who was able to activate pain receptors through touch. Felt like the initial moment of being stabbed, endlessly. He would work with me for hours, quirk constantly activated, no matter how much I screamed and cried. By the time I was ten, I was able to sit for an hour under his quirk without flinching.”

Hawks sighs, and his wings droop. He can feel his primaries brushing against the floor.

The room has gotten very quiet. Hawks has somehow managed to horrify a room full of villains into silence. Robbers, murderers, criminal masterminds, serial killers, all of them stare at him without saying a word. Twice sniffles, and Hawks can see dark lines beginning to track down the cheeks of his mask.

Toga is the one to break the silence.

“Do you need me to kill that guy for you?” She asks, and Hawks is pretty sure she isn’t kidding. She twirls a knife blade through her fingers. “‘Cuz he sounds like a jerk, and I will totally kill that guy for you.”

“No, I don’t need you to kill him. I’m just... I’m just gonna sit down.” Hawks moves toward the couch, but Dabi catches his wrist.

“Hawks?” He asks, and Hawks smiles at all the gentle questions behind it. He’s such a fucking softie.

“I’m o–” The lie stops on his tongue, so he amends himself, “I’ll be alright. Just gonna sit.” Dabi nods but Hawks feels eyes boring into him until he’s safely seated. Then, all the rage and intensity of that stare turns to Shigaraki.

“What the hell just happened!” Shigaraki screeches.

“He was hit by a truth quirk, asshole.” Dabi snaps.

“Do you have any proof of that?”

“I think it’s pretty fucking obvious.”

“Oh, because your judgement isn’t clouded?” Shigaraki argues, “He could just be trying to garner sympathy. It’s an easily set trap.”

Dabi rolls his eyes. “Fine.” Dabi turns to Hawks, seeming to already be regretting this course of action. “Hawks, what do you think of Shigaraki?”

“Well, thought he’d more intimidating to be honest,” Hawks admits, then quickly scrambles to right himself, “Not that you aren’t intimidating, because you are, I’m just much more attracted to you than I thought I’d be, I’m a slut for messy hair. I mean, you’d think the scars and chapped lips would be a turn off, but they actually really do it for me. Maybe I just have a thing of guys who can absolutely obliterate me, given how I feel about Dabi and oh my god Toga please just stab me, I’m begging you.” Toga just pats his head, because apparently he’s too pathetic for even her to kill.

Shigaraki looks at Dabi, then Hawks, then back at Dabi again. “So he was hit by a truth quirk.”

“Obviously,” Dabi growls. His fists are clenching and the heat waves are back. He’s getting frustrated, though Hawks can’t understand why. “And he’s joining our side. He’s going to stay here from now on.”

“He serves us better as a double agent, gathering information from the inside,” Shigaraki hisses, and Dabi’s hands flare blue.

“He’s not going back there.”

“It’s where he’s most useful!”

“Over my dead body!”

“Just because you have fe–”

“I’ll tell you my name!”

Shigaraki stills, all his stubbornness dissipating. For the first time today, Hawks thinks he’s actually listening.

“You still wanna know it, right?” Dabi spits, “Let him stay, and I’ll tell you.”

“Go right ahead,” Shigaraki offers. Dabi looks shiftily around the room, eyes bouncing from Toga to Twice to Hawks himself.

“Just you,” he amends, and brushes past him. “Come on.” Shigaraki rolls his eyes, but still went with him. Once they were out of sight, Toga giggled and squealed.

“Welcome to the family!”

Hawks chokes on air.

“Wh– really?”

Toga shrugs. “I mean, Dabi vouched for you, so I don’t see why not.”

Twice shoots him a thumbs up. “Happy to have you! Fuck off and die.”

“And it’s not like we’re going to let Tomura send you back to the commission! They sound terrible!” A dark cloud falls over Toga's face, and Hawks’s instincts scream for him to back away from the predator in the room. She licks her fangs. “If I ever meet any of those Commission phonies, I’ll cover them in blood!” Then she frowns, a cute pout that leaves no remnant of her former fury. She taps her finger against her chin as she thinks over her plan. “But then I’d make them cute, and they don’t deserve that. Hm.”

“Toga, what are you even talking about?” Spinner asks, as he and Mr. Compress walk in from the hall opposite the way Shigaraki and Dabi left. “And why is everyone shouting? It’s fucking loud.” Compress nods in agreement.

“It’s hard for a performer to prepare for their upcoming act when the green room is in such upheaval.”

Twice nods and gives him a thumbs up. “I didn’t understand any of that.”

Hawks can tell he’s been around the League too long, because, despite the mask, he can tell Compress is rolling his eyes.

“What’s got everyone so irate?”

The truth tickles up Hawks’s throat. “Dabi offered to let me live here and agreed to tell Shigaraki his real name if he let me stay.” Fuck, this quirk never ends.

Spinner and Compress stare blankly at him for a moment (or at least, that’s what Hawks assumes Compress is doing), before Toga chimes in, “Now we’re just waiting for Tomura-chan to cave! Also, Hawks got hit with a truth quirk and shared some of his tragic backstory with us. Don’t ask him any questions, though! He can’t seem to stop from answering then.”

Despite these words, Hawks expects to be bombarded with inquiries. It was one thing for Toga and Twice to accept his arrival, they’d actually seen everything go down. But if he’d been in Spinner and Compress’s shoes, he’d interrogate like there was no tomorrow. So he braces himself for the truth to be torn from him, trying to come up with anyway to justify his past betrayals, just so they don’t kill him immediately and–

“Okay,” Spinner says, and flops down on the couch on top of Twice. Compress primly sits next to him. Neither of them even spare Hawks a second glance.

“Wait, that’s it?” Hawks sputters, “You’re just... gonna let it go?”

“Uh, yeah?” Spinner says, raising an eyebrow at him. “Dabi’s fighting for you, and he hates everyone, so you must really be fucked. Besides, it’ll be nice to have someone else with a mutation quirk around here. Finally, someone will understand how much it sucks to shed.”

Hawks crinkles his nose. “Yeah, molting’s the absolute worst.” Hawks flinches at what he just revealed, but Spinner only laughs.

“Finally! You get it!” He reaches up from Twice’s lap to clap Hawks on the shoulder. “See, this is gonna be great.”

Hawks thinks he might be tearing up again.

“Really? You’re not gonna ask me any questions?”

“Nope!” Spinner says, and Compress looks downright scandalized.

“Prying information from your past without your consent? Heavens no! Magicians value secrects above all else; I would never rob you of yours. Who would even consider such a thing?”

Hawks nearly spills all about how the Commission would absolutely pry everything they can from him, but he’s luckily saved by Shigaraki stomping into the room. The man has his arms crossed and he’s sulking, hard wrinkles in his nose. He growls and glares at Hawks.

“He can stay.”

The room erupts with cheers. Toga is in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as she gushes praise. Twice is excitedly ruffling his hair, and Spinner pokes at his leg with glee. Compress tips his hat to him and Hawks swears he even sees Shigaraki crack a smile. The joy is radiant and contagious and Hawks has never experienced anything like it; yet, he still can’t take his eyes off of Dabi.

He’s leaning against the wall, watching Hawks with an amused smirk. He gives Hawks a wink, but that doesn’t hide the lack of color in his face or the shakiness of hands. Whatever he said really messed him up, Hawks thinks, And he... He did that for me.

Hawks gently slides Toga off of him and stands. He takes a step toward Dabi, then another. He opens his mouth, reaches out a hand, but stops.

What do you say to the person who saved you?

Hawks doesn’t know, so he offers the words that always struck truest with him.

“Thank you.”

For a moment, Hawks gets another glimpse of that open surprise Dabi seems to feel at any affection, but Dabi brushes it away before anyone else can notice

“Heh, just don’t forget you owe me one, birdie,” he chuckles. There is no real weight behind the words, but Spinner nevertheless turns and glares at him.

“I thought we were past the whole ‘making fun of mutation quirks’ thing,” he snarls, and Dabi flounders. Hawks doesn’t really understand what Spinner means, but Dabi seems almost ashamed.

“Sorry, I didn’t–”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Spinner snaps, and tilts his head in Hawks’s direction. “I’m not the one you called a bird.”

And Dabi catches Hawks’s eyes, and Hawks is suddenly sure he’s going to apologize, of all things, and he’s so overwhelmed, not only by this, but by everything that happened today, so he opens his mouth and tells the truth.

“No, no, he doesn’t have to stop, I like it!”

Hawks hates his fucking mouth and the fucking desperation in his tone and every fucking thing about this quirk. Dabi seems positively dumbstruck.

“You do?”

“I...” Hawks’s feathers fluff with embarrassment, and he can feel his cheeks heating up. “I like that you gave me a nickname.”

And, though he may be imagining it, Hawks swears he sees the skin just below Dabi’s eye-scars turn pink.

“Oh.” The word is barely a breath, and it’s one of the best sounds Hawks’s has ever heard.

“Fuck,” Spinner groans, and Toga shouts with glee.

“Pay up boys!” She croons, and Twice and Spinner begin pulling bills out of their pockets.

“I’m very happy for you, you both suck dicks! ” Twice says as he hands Toga a frankly obscene amount of money.

“I don’t understand why the two of you continue to bet against her on such matters,” Compress says, “She’s never wrong.”

“In my defense, this started before she smelled him,” Spinner grumbles as Toga snatches the wad of cash out of his claws. Apparently that’s enough information for Dabi, because he shoots Toga a death glare. Hawks, however, still has no fucking clue what’s going on.

“Uh, I think I’m missing something?”

“Don’t you dare!” Dabi growls. He lunges for her but two Twice’s pop out and grab him. It’s kind of terrifying but Toga just giggles.

“I’m a love expert!”

Hawks stares at her, waiting for her to explain. She beams at him and rocks on her heels. Hawks turns to Compress instead, since he’s the only one whose sanity seems intact.

“Toga can always tell when people are in love,” Compress explains.

“You motherfuckers!” Dabi howls, “I’m gonna burn this whole building to the ground!” He’s smoking at this point, and Hawks can’t help but shoot nervous glances in his direction. No one else seems the slightest bit concerned.

“We believe it’s part of her quirk,” The magician continues, “Something about the hormones making her quirk more effective, and therefore smelling more appealing. So she always knows when two people fall for each other. Therefore”—Hawks can telling, even with the mask, that Mr. Compress is giving Spinner and Twice a very judgmental look—“betting against her on the nature of your and Dabi’s relationship is a rather moronic venture.”

“Wait– Our– Dabi’s in love with me?”

“Fuck!”

Hawks is pretty sure that’s a yes.

God does he love that yes. It couldn’t be more Dabi. And Hawks?

Hawks loves Dabi.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

Dabi stops struggling. He gapes, slowly, opening and closing his mouth as he processes Hawks’s words.

“You- You do?”

Hawks rolls his eyes. “I physically can’t lie, hot stuff.” Now Dabi’s definitely blushing.

“Oh. Right,” Dabi chuckles, and gently pulls away from the clones holding him.

(“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen,” Shigaraki mutters, and Toga elbows him in the stomach)

“Can– Can I–” His eyes flicker to Hawks’s lips and Dabi gets this nervous look on his face. He wants to kiss me. And Hawks would normally tease him over how goddamn chivalrous he’s being but... Hawks can’t remember the last time someone asked him for permission. So it’s really no surprise that he suddenly has his talons dug into Dabi’s coat and their lips are pressed together. Toga wolf-whistles and Shigaraki stomps away yelling about how much he already regrets this, but Hawks is busy memorizing the texture of Dabi’s lips, so he doesn’t really care. Eventually, they have to pull away, and come up for air, and Dabi is actually smiling at him.

“Was that okay?”

And, for once, Hawks doesn’t mind telling the truth.

“That was perfect.”

[turtle-steverogers]

Grapefruit

Ship: Ralbert

Warnings: None except it’s shitty and unedited

Race poked his head out from underneath his blanket when he heard a knock at his bedroom door, “Come in!’

The door creaked out and a very distressed looking Spot entered, “Hey, dude, can you run to the store and pick up a grapefruit.”

Race stared at him for a few moments, trying to comprehend his request, “Okay, a few things. One, it’s 3:00 in the fucking morning, why the fuck do you need a grapefruit? Two, why can’t you go get it? Three, again, why the fuck do you need a grapefruit?”

Spot toyed with the hem of his nightshirt, “Uhh, I really want a grapefruit, because...I do? I don’t know, you know how I get during finals week, can you please just go?”

“Fine, I won’t question your weird cravings,” Race said, pushing his covers off of himself and grabbing his sweatpants from the floor, “But you’re gonna have to come with me.”

“I can’t, I needa keep studying. I’ll pay you back, please?”

“Oh my god, okay fine. Give me the money now, though,” Race said, heaving himself out of bed and pulling on a pair of pajama pants.

Spot reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled five dollar bill, “I mean, this should probably be enough? I don’t know how much grapefruits are.”

Race took the money from Spot, depositing it into his own wallet, “I’ll make it work,” He grumbled as he slid on a pair of sandals and got his keys from his bedside table.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Race said, opening the door to their apartment, “Study.”

“Will do,” Spot said, sitting back at their kitchen counter and pulling his laptop closer to him.

Race drove to the 7/11 nearest to campus and prayed to any god listening that they sold grapefruits. The door jingled as he entered and Race was relieved to see that he was the only one there, save for the cashier- he didn’t want anyone to see him in this half-awake state. He scanned the aisles, frowning when he couldn’t find any grapefruits.

In a last ditch attempt to find what he came for, he approached the check-out counter. The cashier looked around his age, with bright red hair and hazel eyes. He was rather attractive and Race suddenly felt intimidated at the concept of interacting with the guy. He was leaning heavily on one hand and leisurely scrolling through his phone with the other.

He looked up with raised eyebrows when Race cleared his throat, “Can I help you?” He asked. He looked incredibly tired and Race felt a pang of pity for the guy. No one should have to work these ridiculous hours.

“Uh, yeah,” Race said, taking a step closer, “Do you have any grapefruits?”

The guy stared at him blankly for a moment before blinking and saying, “I’m sorry, am I delirious from sleep deprivation, or did you just ask for grapefruit?”

“Um, no,” Race said, “You heard right.”

The guy continued to stare at him and Race could almost hear his brain struggling to process his words. Then, the guy started laughing so hard tears began to stream from the corners of his eyes. Race chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“I-I’m sorry,” The guy sputtered, “I’m so tired and I’ve worked the graveyard shift every night this week and it’s finals week, ya know, and then this hot guy comes in at god knows what time it is right now and asks me for a fucking grapefruit and honestly? That’s just how life’s going right now.”

Race blushed furiously, realizing belatedly that the guy had called him hot. It seemed like the guy realized it too, because he stopped laughing abruptly as his face turned the same shade as his hair.

“Yo, I’m sorry man,” The guy said, sitting up from his hunched over position, “I didn’t mean to, like, disrespect you or whatever.”

“It’s cool,” Race said, smiling reassuringly, “You’re good.”

The guy visibly relaxed and stood up from his stool, “Alrighty, well, let’s see what we can do about your need for a grapefruit.”

He led Race to the back of the store, opening a few of the drink coolers before letting out a soft, ‘aha’, and picking up a bottle.

“So we don’t have any literal grapefruits,” He said, handing Race the bottle, “But we do have grapefruit juice. Would that work?”

Race shrugged, “It’s good enough, thanks for looking.”

“Awesome,” The guy took the bottle back and walked back over to the cash register, quickly scanning the item and handing it back to Race, “I know it’s not really my business, but why do you need a grapefruit?”

“It’s not for me,” Race said, pulling out the five dollar bill and handing it to the guy, “My roommate gets weird cravings during finals week.”

“Ah, valid,” The guy said, taking his previous seat back on the stool behind the counter, “So I have one more question and it’s totally not a good question to ask, but I’m really tired and my judgement is off, so I’ma ask it anyway.”

Race laughed at the guy’s rambling, “Okay, shoot.”

“Wanna go on a date sometime?”

Race almost dropped the bottle of grapefruit juice in surprise, stammering impressively as he tried to get a coherent answer out, “Oh, wow, actually, uh yeah. Yes I would.”

The guy beamed and stuck out a hand, “I’m Albert by the way.”

“Race,” Race said, taking Albert’s hand and shaking it firmly.

“Well, Race, it was a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Bless all the grapefruits in the world for allowing us to come together in this 7/11.”

Race snorted and pulled out his phone, passing it to Albert, “Truly bless the grapefruits.”

Albert passed his own phone across the counter to Race and they entered their information into each other’s contacts.

“I shall see you soon hopefully,” Race said, taking his phone back and pocketing it.

“Yes, hopefully you shall.”

Race offered Albert a little wave and left the 7/11 with a new bounce in his step. When he got back to his and Spot’s apartment, he found that Spot had moved to the living room couch and was feverishly flipping through his psychology textbook.

“Hey,” He said when Race entered, “Didya get the grapefruit?”

“Close,” Race said, chucking the bottle of grapefruit juice at Spot, “They only had juice so that’ll have to do.”

“You’re a saint, Racer,” Spot said, opening the bottle and drinking half of it in one gulp.

“Feeling better?” Race asked.

“Loads, thank you for getting it for me.”

“Anytime,” Race said, walking back to his bedroom, “Besides, it was worth it, ‘cause I got the hot cashier’s number.”

“You WHAT!?”

Race simply smiled to himself as he closed his bedroom door, hopping back into bed.

TAG LIST:

@bencookisagod

@we-dont-sell-papes

@suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@well-the-kids-do-too

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@thatpoorguysheadisspinning

@labert-dasilver

@andthewoildwillknow

@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog

@sunshine-e-cigarettes

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@musical-shitposts

@thebroadwayaesthetic

[jamesbvck]

lost & found | b. barnes | part five

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU, Bartender!Bucky) Summary: Being lost was something foreign to you. Beginning a new life was an uphill battle. Being found was a surprise, especially unexpectedly by a man his own questionable past. Word Count: 3k Warnings: fluff, mention of mental abuse, mention of drunk driving. A/N: Welcome to part five! Feedback? :)

MASTERLIST | TAG FORM

Mornings were always rough. You had never truly considered yourself a morning person, but you didn’t necessarily hate them either. You’d much rather stay curled up in bed with the blanket tucked under your chin and head nestled into the pillow. But alas, work called and it was time to get up for the day. Money was to be made and customers were to be served.

There was a bounce in your step as you hopped into the shower. The warm water dripped down your skin, as you hummed an old song. Corinne had taken notice of the change in your demeanour over the last week. She knew it was because of Bucky and whatever bond you had formed with him. While she was cautious, she had to admit it was nice to see you so happy. You deserved to be happy.

You arrived to work just as Wanda did, and the two of you exchanged a few words as you walked inside. You placed your belongings out the back, grabbed your waist apron, and headed out to do your routine tasks until customers trickled in. Idly you swept, humming again. Hayley, one of the new part-time girls that was recently hired, straightened up the stools and tables, giving them a wipe down. You liked her. She was funny and kind, a new friend.

“It’s really unfair.”

You glanced over at her, raising a brow. “What’s unfair?”

Hayley nonchantanty motioned to Bucky across the way. He was guiding an electrician taking a look at a few of the lighting fixtures that hadn’t been working properly. His long hair was tied up into a bun, and his strong arms were folded over his chest as he explained the situation to the older man. His navy blue three-quarter length shirt fit him just slightly too tightly.

“Someone call Calvin Klein and get that man an underwear campaign, stat!” Hayley sighed dreamily.

Your eyes stayed glued to Bucky for another moment. You felt captured under a spell. It wasn’t necessarily bad to think your boss was good looking. After all, he was your friend. You had hung out outside of work as friends, so it was cool. You texted, and maybe one time (two times) it was until three in the morning. Friends did that all the time. Totally cool.

“He’s single, right?”

“Uh,” you shrugged. “I don’t know.”

You fibbed.

Hayley began to ponder aloud. Your mind autoset into your own thoughts, curious to see if she was going to make a move, and worried that she actually would. Something twanged in the pit of your stomach thinking about it, and you knew it was not pleasant. Your grip around the broom grew tighter until you internally rationalized the situation. By the time you refocused, Hayley was with Bucky, the electrician gone to get some tools out of his truck.

Oh.

Again, you rationalized. Taking the broom and dustpan, you returned them to the storage closet. You were unable to keep a frown from forming and felt stupid for it. Truthfully, you didn’t even know what you wanted from Bucky. Friendship? Companionship? Guidance? The sense of hope that not all men were god awful? Maybe all of it wrapped together with a pretty bow? You shook your head, deciding you were being completely ridiculous. Nothing was owed to you, nor did you owe anyone anything. At least he was in your life.

Before leaving, you grabbed new fibre cloths from the shelving and a spray bottle of cleaning solution. You pulled the door shut, turning around to see Bucky looking at you with amused eyes. Your knees nearly buckled.

“Hi…?” you said, blinking at him.

“I was wondering how long you were going to stand in there for,” he spoke. “You okay?”

You nodded, regaining yourself to smile at him. “Little tired, but I’m fine.”

Bucky nodded too. “Good, that’s good. That’s great!”

You tilted your head, trying to not laugh at his apparent eagerness. He seemed chipper and in a bright mood. It was quite adorable to see. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go do some employee stuff.”

“I guess I’ll go do some boss stuff,” he replied. You slipped around him, brushing arms. You looked over your shoulder and caught Bucky’s eyes. Something in your chest swelled and you bit back a grin. These were murky waters and you knew not to swim in them, but damn, they were intriguing.

Clint sat at the bar for the majority of your shift. He was filled with stories, and spoke about his kids and his beautiful wife. You loved listening, but at the same time, your gaze kept travelling over to Bucky whenever he madea brief appearance. You couldn’t help it and it was dead obvious to Clint. He took a lengthy sip of his beer, setting the bottle down on the round coaster.

“You and Barnes, yeah, I could see it,” he commented. You scowled. “You keep making eyes at him.”

“I don’t make eyes, Clint.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Look, I really don’t give a shit. Like him, don’t like him. But life’s too short to hide behind what ifs and maybes. Don’t look now, but Barnes is staring at you, too. Trust me, he can be pretty stupid, so if you’re gonna move, move.”

You hadn’t expected this from Clint. He was encouraging and at the same time giving you life advice. Perhaps he was right, life was too short to be scared of something. You sighed, picking up his bottle to see there was barely any liquid left.

“Do you want another one?”

Clint checked the time. “Probably shouldn’t, gotta go pick up the kids from school.” He dug into his back pocket and retrieved some cash. “You coming to Stark’s party?”

“What party?” You took the money, exchanging it for his change. You didn’t even know Tony Stark. You only heard the guys talk about him every now and then, and your sister worked for his billion dollar company.

“Stark’s Annual Fourth of July Bash…” his voice trailed and his face contoured into something mischievous. “Why don’t you ask Barnes about it.”

“Clint.”

“What ifs and maybes,” he mused, waving as he left the bar.

It was noted that Clint and Sam were definitely the ones that gave people a hard time out of spite. You muttered to yourself, swiping the bottle and putting it in an empty beer case. You occupied yourself for the next hour until your shift ended.

Bucky was in his office, chair leaned back and his thumb scrolling through his phone. Quietly you approached the door way, bag over your shoulder as you leaned against the framing. He didn’t notice you to start, and that was perfectly fine. You liked watching his brows scrunch together and his eyes squint at his phone.

“You’re going to need glasses if you keep squinting.”

He looked over, lowering his phone to the desk. “Steve tells me that, too.”

“Well, he’s right.”

Bucky chuckled. “I’m glad you stopped in before you left, wanted to ask if you would like to get some food.”

Never in your life had you said no to food. It must have been a given, since you nodded rapidly and a wide grin spread across his face. He picked up his phone, tucked it into his pocket, and tidied up his desk before flicking off the light and locking the door. He caught Wanda before leaving and she was more than fine with locking up when it was closing time. Bucky led the way out.

“How do you feel about Chinese food?”

“I’m good with that,” you replied, following him down the street.

There was a place around the corner from Bucky’s studio apartment. It was small, and a little sketchy looking, but Bucky swore it was the best you were going to get in Brooklyn. You let him order whatever, you weren’t picky. You helped him carry the two full brown paper bags back to his place. He kicked off his boots and set the bag onto his coffee table.

“What do you want to drink?” Bucky asked.

“Water’s fine.”

This was the second time you were in his home. You examined it more. There was a long three seater couch and a matching armchair to the right of it. He had a TV console with a flat screen perched on top, and a few art pieces hung on the wall. His large bed sat back against a brick wall off to the west side near the wall of windows that let the light pour in. There were notebooks scattered around, some vinyls and a recorded player off to the side. It was a rather clean home.

You set down the bag and plopped yourself onto the floor, beginning to take things out. Bucky returned with plates and two glasses of water. “Are we going to eat on the floor?”

“Why not?” you smiled.

He got himself to the ground, letting you choose what you wanted first. “What’s this Stark Party?”

Bucky reached for the beef and broccoli, scooping some onto his plate. “Your sister didn’t tell you about it?”

“No, Clint mentioned it this afternoon but didn’t elaborate too much.”

“Tony has this party every year on the fourth. It’s kind of a big deal, I guess. I get dragged to it by Steve. It’s on his yacht.”

A yacht? You weren’t even sure why you were surprised. Of course a billionaire had a yacht and would invite people aboard to get drunk on. The idea seemed fascinating, though. Spending a holiday on a big boat, drinks, a view of the entire city and to end the night with fireworks. It was almost romantic, in a sense.

“Are you gonna go?” he asked.

“I don’t even know him,” you murmured. “That’d be weird if I just showed up.”

Bucky shook his head. “You know people he knows. You can be Corinne’s plus one.”

“I could be your plus one.”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could process anything. It was really meant to be a joke. Realistically, you could have been Steve’s plus one, or even Sam’s. However, Bucky didn’t seem too fazed by it. He was spooning rice onto his plate and grabbing the mini soy sauce packets.

“You could,” he agreed a moment later. His eyes peeked through a few loose strands of hair that had gotten away from his messy bun. Thankfully, your words weren’t a total disaster.

I would, you thought.

Bucky had put on some music to fill in the gaps of silence while you ate. You weren’t too sure what it was, but it was soothing and had semblance to jazz. It felt like you were far away, lost in a small European town with cobblestones and beautiful buildings. You ate, briefly chatting but mainly listening to the record. Bucky packed away the leftovers, taking the plates to to the sink. You leaned back onto your hands, looking around. Your eyes landed on a framed picture of him, Steve, and Sam. It looked to be an older photo, Bucky had shorter hair and all of their faces were younger. It brought a smile to your lips. Bucky and Sam were laughing and Steve was trying not to crack a smile, but failing miserably.

“What’s this from?” You took the frame and showed it to Bucky.

“First Christmas while we were shipped out,” he replied. “Can’t remember the full context, but it had to have been making fun of old man Steven.”

You laughed quietly, turning the picture back to you. Bucky was slightly leaned over in the picture, smiling widely, and you swore you could hear his laughter. There were dog tags swinging from around his neck and his plain white t-shirt was ruffled.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Bucky dried his hands on a kitchen cloth, moving back to the living room.

Carefully you placed the frame back from where you got it, settling down on the rug again. “I’ve never seen you wear a t-shirt, or anything with shorter sleeves. Do you have something against them?” You attempted to play it lightly. Maybe he just didn’t like t-shirts. People went through clothing phases and that was fine. Maybe it wasn’t on trend for men’s clothing, you didn’t know.

Bucky shifted, stretching his legs out as he leaned against the couch. He was quiet, you waited.

“Well, I can tell you I do own t-shirts. I don’t discriminate,” the corner of his lip turned up for a half second. “A few years back I wasn’t great, you know, during that bad time I told you about. I made the really stupid decision of drinking and getting on my bike. Steve told me not to do it, I was too stubborn and angry at something, did it anyway. Didn’t even make it down the road before I got out of control, skidded along the pavement.”

Bucky held out his left arm and rolled up the sleeve as far as it could go. Along his biceps was scarring that went to his elbow. You shuffled yourself closer to get a clearer look. You couldn’t imagine how awful that must have been for him. You raised your hand and gently glided the tips of your fingers over some of the scar tissue. To you it didn’t look so bad, but to Bucky it was something that he had to deal with physically every day.

“I was in the hospital for a few days, had my license taken away for a bit. Probably was a blessing in disguise, I started to smarten up.” Bucky looked to you. “Maybe I’m ashamed. I don’t want strangers to look at me funny when I walk down the street.”

“Scars of our past redefine who we are, but we get to choose who we want to become,” you murmured, dropping your hand to your lap. “Trust me, I know all about that.”

You could see in Bucky he was curious about your words. Your fingers coiled into your palms, squeezing, then releasing. “His name was Brock,” you started. “He was my boyfriend, but he was also my worst nightmare. I thought everything that went wrong was my fault, only because he told me it was. I thought the reasons why he would yell at me, taunt me, mentally damage me were my fault. And I believed I deserved it.”

Bucky was at a loss for words. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, avoiding eye contact as you spoke about all the tragedies and the downfall of your three year relationship with a monster. “Getting out was hard. I packed my bag but I was too afraid to leave, I was too afraid of the abandonment. I was too afraid of losing what I called ‘my person’. I thought he was that. But he wasn’t. Luckily Corinne was coming back home for a visit and she ripped me out of there without any barriers. I owe her so much.”

His hand reached out, and using his thumb, he swiped away a stray tear from your cheek that had fallen. You hadn’t even noticed.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said.

“I know,” you replied. “Restraining order is in full effect. But his words are still in my head. Some days are hard, some days are great. Today’s a good day.”

The jazz music had drifted off, the vinyl ending. Bucky subconsciously rubbed his blemished arm before slowly moving to his feet. He turned on the TV, handing you the remote to find something to watch on Netflix. He left to go change and you crawled your way up onto the couch, flicking through the title cards of the tv shows and movies. You put on a baking competition show, hoping Bucky wouldn’t mind too much.

He re-entered wearing grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. It was true, he didn’t discriminate. It made you feel good, like maybe he trusted you enough to be himself, he didn’t need to hide his insecurity. He also didn’t seemed bothered by your tv selection; in fact, he was rather into it, making comments. The more episodes that rolled over into one another, the closer your body grew to Bucky’s. He was warm, a little squishy under all that toned muscle. Your eyes drooped, unwilling to stay awake to see who was making it to round three.

Upon awakening, the TV was turned off and there was a single light on. It was dark as your eyes adjusted. A blanket was draped over your body, a pillow under your head. You glanced around before reaching out to search for your phone. Time: 12:54AM. A silent yawn slipped from your mouth, and you sat up on the couch. Admittedly, you were slightly sad Bucky hadn’t been there with you. It didn’t take you long to see he was in his bed, turned onto his side with one arm hanging off the edge.

You had three options: the first, going home to your own bed (probably the best one not to worry Corinne), the second was laying back down on the comfy couch and drifting back off, and the third (and most appealing) was scooting in next to Bucky. Quickly, you opted for the third. Your feet padded against the floor to the open side of the bed, and you pulled back the blankets. For a split second, you hesitated, but your sleepy body ached for the comfort of a mattress instead. You settled yourself, leaving a gap between you and the sleeping man.

Bucky’s body shifted, rolling over to his other side. Clearly you weren’t as stealthy as you believed you were. One of his eyes popped open, looking at you in the dark.

“I can go,” you whispered.

Without warning, Bucky pulled you to himself, wrapping his arm securely around you. Immediately, you felt safe. Your entire body melted into his, and you tucked your head under his chin. His fingers rubbed a small section of your back, which lulled you right back into a deep slumber.

A perfect night’s rest.

permanent bucky list: @tjhammcnd @fossilbarnes​ @wintersparker @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @sweetwaterprincess @demongirl0913 @bitch-from-the-block @queenlydias @lilah-bard @dontpanc @ohkingsteve @kingsebstan @buckystan-plums@cauraphernelia @yourwonderbelle @beauty-who-doesnt-need-a-beast @bleedlikerubies @fallenaristocat @bubblybuckybarnes @solarbarnes @my-world97 @mystic-scripture @ragnarokbarnes @wintvrbarnes @stardustparker @kali-rambles @pao-prazz @thorins-queen-of-erebor @eventyyr @abbadontherisingqueen @lovinglokiforever @justasimpleassbitch TAG FORM

[spageddiekaspbrak]

Mando Maraschino

Summary; Eddie was diagnosed with congestive heart failure almost two years ago. He's managed to survive this long, but recently, things have been getting worse. Richie was given 900 hours of court mandated community service. He picked the volunteer program at the hospital and ends up spending most of his free time in the Uris Cardiac Center.

Word Count: 3503

AN: Yo, this is going to be great, lots of jokes and puns. Lots of angst and fluff. I have a lot of OCs in this chapter but don't worry, all of the losers will play a role, especially Stan and Ben. Anywayssss, I don't have many other things to say besides I'm getting an ao3 soon so that's lit. Let's get on with the fic already. 

Masterlist

“Eddie!” Adelaide‘s voice floated from outside her nephew’s room, talking over the blaring alarm he was somehow sleeping through and the softer hum of the oxygen concentrator. “Come on!” Nothing. “Come on! Up! Now!” She rapped her knuckles on the door, carelessly. Then again louder when she didn’t get a response. Still nothing; the alarm still going at it, the oxygen too. Her heart dropped like a stone, through her stomach and into her shoes. She threw Eddie’s door open, darting inside. She flicked on the lights, flushing out the pitch black that her nephew needed to sleep.

She heaved a sigh of sympathy and relief. Eddie was curled up in a tight ball in the middle of his queen-sized bed. The sheets were strewn about like he had been thrashing the whole night, some thrown off the bed and others strangling his legs, another wrapped around the poor boy like a nest. His oxygen mask was half off and she could hear him whimpering, wheezing too. He was drowning in his own sweat; his skin was shiny and clammy, hair stuck to his forehead, and his shirt clung to his body with sweat stains all it. His body was caught in a earthquake and Adelaide walked over, turning off the concentrator and sliding the mask off her nephew’s face, setting it on his night stand.

She grabbed his face gently, tapping his hotly flushed cheek with her index finger. “Wake up, baby. Come on, Eddie, wake up.” Eddie opened an eye, halfway. Little, raspy whines echoed from his throat and Adelaide shushed him. “It’s okay, baby.” She scooped him up into her arms, his skin scorching her’s. “We’re gonna bring you to the hospital, baby. And you’re gonna me okay. It’s all going to be okay, baby.” Adelaide cooed, running a hand through his damp hair as an act of comfort. “It’s okay.” She carried her nephew downstairs with no problem, holding back tears.

She managed to get Eddie in her backseat without much problem. Eddie was short and skinny, with nearly no meat on his bones; it was an effect of his strict diets, picky habits, and his condition. He lay across the backseats, the blanket Eddie had owned since he was born laying half-across him. Adelaide wiped her eyes at every stop sign and light. The dry gasps, cries of pain, and teeth-chattering coming from Eddie was too much. She drove a little faster at each whimper, pressing down on the gas a bit harder and chewing on her lip a bit rougher.

Her head was in a whirlwind, storming around a million different things. The driving force being Eddie dying in her backseat. The thoughts fueling it were too numerous and moving too fast to for her to catch or fully process like leaves caught in a hurricane or a kitten in river rapids. What kept her sane and strong through the storm was what the eye held. In the calm, right in the center of the tornado, where Eddie’s weak breathing and crying was drown out, where there was no noise at all but happy voices, sat a happy family. Eddie, without a concentrator, sitting with his arms around Roland, laughing and giggling with his boyfriend. Sonia and Frank, alive, standing with arms around each other, watching their happy son. Adelaide herself, holding onto a faceless person, with a grin on her worry lines free face.

A loud horn drew Adelaide out of her fantasy. Her eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, to Eddie in the backseat. His chest was rising and falling, quick and choppy, but definitely still breathing. “Hey bitch! The light is green!” A voice shouted from behind her and she leaned over to look in her side-view.

A head was retracting into the car behind her, the flash of a blonde hair and a face pricking at something in the back of her head. It was familiar but she couldn't quite place the thought. She flicked her eyes back to the road, digging her teeth into her bottom lip as she pressed down on the gas.

It was another two minutes down the road until she was pulling up to the Uris Cardiac Center at the Scott Children’s Hospital, parking sloppy so she could just get her kid nephew saf. She raced him inside the second her keys were out of the ignition and the nurses she knew so very well got him into a impatient room quickly. Adelaide stayed in the lobby room of the Uris, sitting in a chair as she tried to calm down.

She barely gave herself ten minutes before pulling out her phone and calling Sonia. Adelaide stood up and walked across the lobby, awaiting her sister.

Eddie's mother picked up on the third ring. “Hello? I'm at work right now, why didn't you just text me?” There was the sound of manicured nails on the generic, black plastic keyboards that all schools seemed to have and heavy breathing underneath her accusatory tone and afterwards.

“Eddie slept through his alarm this morning.” Adelaide mumbled, pacing back and forth in the small alcove that held two water fountains. She wrapped an arm around her head, tucking her face into her elbow. She needed to block her eyes from the fluorescents. Something about these particular lights seemed to give Adelaide a terrible migraine. At least, she swore it was the lights, but Eddie always told her she was too stressed.

“So?” Sonia’s voice was suddenly cruel and manipulative, the breathing even heavier than before. The clacking of her keyboard got more vicious and sharp. “You know I'm busy right now. I’m working, so I can support you and my son. So I can pay for everything he needs, and everything you need.”

The emphasis on you nearly pushed Adelaide over the edge. Adelaide exhaled a long breath and managed to stay calm despite the fact that her sister was being terribly rude.

“Sonia, darling, I quit my job and moved here, across the country, to homeschool him. And you know as well as I do that I'm looking for a job here, I am. But with Eddie depending on me all the time, it's hard to find one that will work.” When Adelaide didn't get an answer she continued, “I know you're stressed, but look, Eddie is sick and we're at the hospital.”

“Good for you,” Sonia grumbled.

Adelaide exhaled. “Did you not realize he was sick when you checked on him this morning?” Adelaide let her elbow drop away from her face. A headache had formed despite her best efforts. So she got back to pacing.

“I didn't check on him.” It was brief. Airy. Empty.

“Excuse me?” Adelaide was stopped in her tracks again. Her voice was just as taken aback as she was. She was joking, right? No, no. Sonia was a lot of things, but not a joker. Definitely not a joker.

“I had to get to work, I was running late. It's early hours today!” Sonia defended herself in that oh so recognizable ‘it's not my fault!’ squeaky, high pitched voice.

In, out. In then out, Adelaide, the woman told herself, patting herself on the cheek gently.

“He's more important than anything else, Sonia. Eddie is dying, okay?” Adelaide coaxed, her eyes squeezed shut. “He's going through heart failure. The tiniest cold or concentrator malfunction could kill him. His life is in our hands. Our. One wrong decision, any decision could mean life or death.” Adelaide lectured. Her words were heavy and so was her heart. Everything she said was true. Her life centered around this kid, so did Sonia’s. Eddie needed them, Eddie needed them to focus on him. “He is your son. He is my nephew. His life is in our hands.”

“I don't have time to visit him today. I'll come in tomorrow. Text me with news, I guess.” Sonia said in an even and chilly tone before hanging up the phone.

God, Adelaide wanted to slap the bitch. Hard. The woman stuck her phone back in her pocket and stepped across the tile floor.. She repeated a mantra of reassurance in her head. It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault. One repeat for each tile she stepped on. She told herself those three words over and over again.

She continued it even after sitting back down. This time repeating it for every time her leg bounced until she slammed her hand down onto her leg. Come on Adelaide, breathe girly. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.

In the twenty more minutes she sat there without news she had scrolled through her Instagram feed, flipped through Us magazine, and watched half of a YouTube video. Her video was interrupted by a soft voice.

“Ms. Beasley?”

“Oh? Yes, that’s me.” Adelaide looked up, pulling the one earbud she had in, down and away from her ear. Stanley Uris, a comforting face, stood there in his tall, gangly, awkward grace. His shoulders were tight, up towards his ears and his hands were stuck in his long chino pants.

“Eddie’s got pneumonia. They’re gonna put him on antibiotics. He’s gonna have to take his fluids through IV, there’s no way he can drink with how much trouble he’s having with breathing and how weak he is. tube feeding too. They’re nearly positive he’ll need respiratory therapy. And oxygen therapy, of course.” Stanley informed Adelaide, scuffing his foot along the ground.

“So he’s going to be fine?”

“My dad says nothing’s certain. Cause of his you know. But it’s my dad, he’s a miracle worker. And Eddie is a hardass. Pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance against him.” Stan‘s mouth  twitched into a smile.

“Am I allowed to go in yet?” Stan shook his head.

“Mary will come get you when you’re all clear. They just want to make sure he’s completely stable and observe him for a little while.” Stan moved closer to Adelaide, squatting down to her level and putting a hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing. Just hold on a little longer and you can see for yourself.” Adelaide put her own hand on top of his, smiling back at the boy.

“Thank you, Stanley, darling.” Adelaide released his hand only to take his face up gently. She pulled him in closer and down to kiss his forehead then ruffled his hair, carefully not to knock at his kippah. “I’m going to go get coffee and the survival kit. If he asks where I went, let him know, please?”

“Of course, Addy.” Stan nodded.

When Adelaide re-entered the Uris, a venti caffè mocha in hand. She had a pink tote bag, that 7 year old Eddie had picked out the day after getting released from the hospital. He had somehow stabbed himself in the stomach with a pencil and while Sonia drove him to the hospital, she had called Adelaide in hysterics. Adelaide flew in and helped Sonia out. Adelaide got an idea of a hospital survival kit from Sonia’s constant complaints and floundering, Eddie’s whining and his favorite gifts, and her own revelations. So the day after her nephew was released, they went to a strip mall and picked up everything on a list Adelaide had compiled.

Almost two years ago, when Eddie got diagnosed, the kit came in handy. It resided in the coat closet, on the top shelf. When Adelaide had grabbed it earlier, she was sad to disturb the thin layer of dust that had formed on the fabric.

“You’re all set, Ads. I signed you in. Kid’s in ‘04.” Adelaide’s favorite receptionist in the world, Paula, set the sign-in clipboard back on the counter in front of her. “Tell him I say hi?”

“Totally. Thanks!” Adelaide flashed a wide smile, moving down the hallway to Eddie’s room. Paula stared after the other totally oblivious woman, chin in hand, until Adelaide turned around halfway down the hall to wave another thank you. Paula nearly fell out of her chair.

“Hey kiddo!” Adelaide grinned, strolling into Eddie’s room and sitting down in the chair by his bed. Eddie was propped up against a pile of pillows; there were tubes in his arms, nasal cannula in, and he was hooked up to the vitals. He looked exhausted and weak. There were dark circles underneath his eye, contrasting again his tan skin. His cheekbones and collarbones seemed to stick out more than usual. His skin was tight and transparent on his face. His eyes were heavy lidded, halfway closed.

“Addy,” Eddie rasped.

“I got the survival kit. And texted Roland.”

“Is he gonna-”

“He’ll be here later.” Adelaide interrupted, setting the pink tote down on Eddie’s lap.

“Is ma?” Eddie asked, digging through the bag. He pulled out a fluffy throw and socks, draping the blanket across himself he passed his socks over to Adelaide. He moved so his legs stuck out over the side of the bed and Adelaide slid on his socks.

“No, I’m sorry, baby. She’s..,” Adelaide’s stomach twisted with guilt. “She’ll be here tomorrow, I promise.”

Eddie nodded, trying to hide that he was getting tearful.

“I put your phone and stuff in the bag. And it’s got all the usual things. You’re probably too tired to keep talking, so I’m gonna-”

Eddie held out the survival kit washcloth to her and she took it, sighing a smile. She brought it to the sink and wet it. She looked at herself in, nearly unable to recognize the worn face glancing back at her. She wrung out the cloth and walked back to the bed, leaning down to push her nephew’s curls back and kiss his forehead before setting the damp washcloth across his brow.

“I love you so much kiddo and I’m so glad you’re okay.” She stroked her thumbs over his cheeks and he gave her that sweet, glowing smile.

Around 4 o’clock, one hour before Uris closed to visitors, Eddie got his first guest of the day, not counting Adelaide.

The guest’s face was hidden behind a bundle of fake red, pink, white and purple carnations and peonies, but Eddie knew who it was. It was the same somebody who always brought him a craft store bouquet of his favorite kinds of flowers, no matter the occasion. The somebody who wore dorky shirts with science puns or Star Wars posters printed on them. The somebody who has stuck with him during his diagnosis, and the surgeries, and all of it.

Eddie’s heart fluttered and he cooed happily, smiling through his sick, swollen face. He sluggishly scooted up the bed. He rubbed his eyes before giving Roland a happy wave.

Roland lowered the flowers and smiled back at his sick boyfriend. Eddie loved his crooked smile and the dimples he got. And the little crinkled lines he got around his eyes. “Hey handsome, I’m sorry the flowers are so squished and you know, um, ruffled but I rushed here as soon as I could, Adelaide texted me-” Eddie, reclining against the many pillows on his bed, made a little noise and gestured to the television which played an old baseball movie. Roland grabbed the remote and clicked off the movie. “But I’m here now and I would have been here sooner...but, anyways, I uh kinda have another gift, hold on.”

Roland set Eddie’s flowers on the bedside table and dragged a chair over, both boys cringing at the noise. Roland sat down, his chair so close that the side of the bed dug into his knees. He slid the nerdy purple drawstring backpack off his shoulder, yanking it open. He pulled out a envelope. “I mean I guess it’s not a gift, it’s just a thing, I don't know. But um here.” Roland scratched the back of his head with one hand and held out the envelope with the other, his face flushed softly.

Eddie grabbed it, struggling to open the paper without ripping the red material or the content. Roland reached over and stuck his thumb under the flap to pull the envelope open for his boyfriend. Eddie wheezed a thanks which prompted a nod in return from Roland. He pulled out a letter and a paper that was folded into quarters. Eddie started on the quartered paper; he unfolded it and his face broke into a wide grin. It was a comic, sketched in pencil.

There was a sketch of Roland wearing a sweatshirt that was much too small for him, it barely covered half his arm, and a pair of red shorts, staring in the mirror. A little speech bubble came off his head, “I love making fun of my boyfriends while I wear his clothes…”

The next panel had Roland opened mouth and his face scrunched up, mid-laugh. “I drink black coffee. I’m super duper gay. I’m a short little weirdo. I’m so cool and awesome, and cute, and sexy, and-”

The next panel had a door swinging open.

The next Eddie attacking Roland in a hug. “I know you are.”

The final was the two laying in bed, wrapping up in each other and the blankets.

Eddie’s eyes welled up with tears. “It’s not good, I’m sorry. I don’t know, I just- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...it was a bad idea. I’m sorry,” Roland rambled.

“Is that my..,” Eddie’s crackled voice faded off, his throat too sore and swollen for him to finish. His finger pointed to the mask on his face and the boxy shape on the ground near his bed in the last panel.

“Your concentrator? Yeah, it is.” Roland reached out, setting his hand on Eddie’s arm, stroking his skin. A tear escaped Eddie’s eyes and Roland wiped it away. He ran his thumb over Eddie’s cheekbone gently. Roland moved in, rising from his chair halfway to press his lips to Eddie’s for a second. “Want me to read you the letter, baby?”

Eddie nodded, clearly tired and tuckered out from just reading and admiring the comic. Roland took the papers from him, setting the comic aside, tossing the envelope in the waste basket, and then unfolding the letter. He smoothed it out, setting it on his knees. Eddie turned over to face his boyfriend, resettling the nasal cannula tubes. Eddie took one of Roland’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers.

“To the love of my life,” Roland started, reading from the paper covered in his sloppy handwriting. “I love you so much. And I will be here with you through everything, I have been so far and that won’t change. You mean the world to me, you are my universe and my sun and moon. I would run to the ends of the earth for you. We may just be stupid teens in love but I want to spend everyday of the rest of our lives with you because you, Eddie Kaspbrak, are the only one I want. I know you don’t get it, how I can have so much hope for our future and how I could possibly think you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon or how could I possibly want to stay with you through all of this , but you are gorgeous and something inside me, maybe my gut or like ESPN or whatever, tells me that we’re meant to be. You stressed stronger than anyone else I know, stronger than anything that will ever come your way. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. I love you to Pluto and back, baby. Or in the words of a treasured vine, I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you, bitchhh.” Roland finally looked up from his paper to see his boyfriend asleep, drool already pooling at one side of his mouth. Roland laughed softly and set the letter aside with his free hand before clasping Eddie’s tiny hand inside both of his. He stroked the back of his boyfriend’s hand softly with his thumb.

“I know it’s not enough, baby. I know you wish I could magically cure you, I wish I could too. And I’m so so sorry, I’m really really sorry. I know it’s so hard and god I worry about you all the time, I lay awake at night crying and fretting over you. I’m so sorry handsome, but I’ll be with you, okay? I’ll always be with you.” Roland brought Eddie’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I love you, Eddie baby.”

He sat there for another hour with nothing but the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the hospital machines, with the buzz of the other rooms playing underneath. Eventually a nurse came in and told Roland to go home, greeting him first in recognition. Before getting up, he pulled out a frame with a picture of them outside Paging All the Readers. He set it on the bedside table and kissed Eddie’s cheek one more time before leaving.

Tag List

@wyatt-ohheleft @myqueenshuri @groovy-wyatt @some-raging-fangirl

[rwbyremnants]

=Chapter 6

The crowd had turned into cheering lunatics once Weiss finished playing the encore number that the crowd had begged her to do. She and Neptune had done a duet before they both left the stage, but the cheering had been so loud she couldn't resist going back out to perform one of her lesser-known B-sides. Now thoroughly exhausted, she finally left the stage, satisfied that she had given a command performance but needing time to think.

Throughout the entire concert, it had taken all of her professionalism and willpower to focus on singing. To focus on her dance moves, and the energy of the crowd. Instead of other things. Instead of her bodyguard, and how everything had changed because of one - albeit very thorough - massage. But what else could she do? It was too late to say "Whoops, just kidding" and sweep everything under the rug. As soon as they got back to the bus, they were probably going to have to talk everything through. It was a nightmare looming on the horizon.

And waiting by the doorway to the backstage area was Yang, holding a cup of water in either hand. One for her, and one for the exhausted Weiss. She'd been there for well over ten minutes, but it felt more like ten hours. In all that time, her mind had been running through every possible scenario on how this would play out. Weiss would either reject her, making things terribly awkward between them, possibly even leading to the need for a new bodyguard… or they would continue where they left off. And even that led to dangerous possibilities, such as Weiss finding out her secret, outing her to everyone and running off screaming.

But she had no more time to think. She nervously smiled, holding a cup outward toward her.

"Thank you," Weiss said meekly. She looked entirely beside herself, dazed and unsure. "Was I alright out there? You didn't notice any… you know, mess-ups in my performance, did you?"

Of course she was asking because she was unsure of herself in more areas than just her singing at that moment. “Nah, you were great as always,” she managed to mutter, taking a quick sip of water to try and quell her nerves again. But already she could feel the blush returning.

"Okay, good," Weiss sighed after downing her own water. Singing was thirsty work. Taking a deep breath in, Weiss allowed herself to smile as Yang lead her further toward the dressing room. "After… well, I wasn't entirely at the top of my game today. So I was worried." Clearing her throat, she shot Yang an inquisitive look as she turned the cup in her hands gently. She didn’t feel quite ready to go in there. "Are you feeling better now?"

At first, Yang tilted her head, looking extremely confused. And then she remembered, her eyebrows raising in surprise. "Oh! Right! The cramps! Y-Yeah… I got some pain killers, I'm good now. S-Sorry about that."

Good job hiding your nerves, idiot, she thought to herself, continuing to pace further into the room. Now it was rather packed compared to when they were there earlier, filled with staff and others with VIP Access cards. She didn't exactly know where she was leading Weiss, but something was telling her she'd want to be in the middle of the room. Either way, she felt just as uneasy leaving Weiss alone as she did being by her side.

But as it turned out, she wouldn’t have been alone, anyway. Neptune was stood chatting with a few of the backstage crew from earlier, along with the same blonde-haired boy – and Blake. She got her wish in meeting the singer, who was running his hand through his blue hair and acting smooth.

"Yeah, I just needed to bounce a little earlier because my throat was feeling a little off. Wanted to rest the old cords before the encore. I want every performance to be the top of my game, you know? They're paying for perfection, after all."

"No, I totally get it," Blake was replying with an extremely flustered laugh. "Everyone should respect your process!"

"It does separate the men from the boys," Weiss said in a would-be casual tone. It was much the same voice she used when talking to management of studios. "You were quite excellent out there, of course. We should have partnered up for a tour years ago."

Looking back around, Neptune right away offered a cheeky grin. "Well well! If it isn't my plus one! Thought we knocked ‘em dead with our duet but they really couldn't get enough of you, eh?"

And right behind Weiss, Yang joined the group. Slotting in between her and Blake, she gave a quick tap on the black-haired woman's shoulder, just enough to let it be known she was back.

"Oh, Yi- YANG!" Blake quickly corrected herself. "Cool, I was hoping we'd see you again before you and Weiss had to hit the road!" Then she was looking slightly over Yang's shoulder at the white-haired pop star.

"Yeah, glad I caught you again! How's Neptune been while Weiss was still out there?" Even as Blake was trying to at least get a look at Weiss, Yang was trying to avoid looking in her direction. She didn’t want any little glance to be taken the wrong way.

All the while, Neptune was continuing to keep his smug attitude toward the diva, laughing obnoxiously loud to one of her comments. He was obviously trying, and failing from the looks of it, to flirt. "You're hilarious, girl! Damn, kinda wish we could do a few more shows together, maybe a collab. Could be a hit!"

"Maybe we could," Weiss said, obviously still turning on her professional charm. As Yang could tell from her now-extensive contact with her employer, she was only being polite now; her "crush" was rapidly waning the more contact she had with his abrasive personality. "Set something up with our mutual managers."

"Hey, anything to spend more time with you, Snow Angel," he said with a wink, still trying to break into the diva's harsh professional shell it seemed. Which although she wouldn't say anything, was making Yang roll her eyes, and fold her arms in annoyance.

"Yang," Blake finally hissed more directly. "Can… I mean, you don't have to, but as long as Weiss is already here…"

Yang immediately stepped back, allowing her to get between herself and Neptune. "Sorry, there ya go."

"No, I…" Blake blushed and fidgeted. She'd been trying to encourage Yang to introduce her to Weiss now that she’d already met Neptune, but could tell her old friend wasn't quite at the top of her game today. But it turned out not to be necessary.

"Hello," Weiss said at last, taking the initiative when she noticed the raven-haired girl was lingering and glancing at her quite often. "Whom do I have the pleasure?"

Blinking as her hand was shaken, she breathed, "O-oh! I’m Blake, I… well, I had backstage pass for Neptune; I'm so surprised you're here, too!"

’Shit…’ That was Yang's first thought as soon as Blake did introduce herself. Weiss knew that name; she'd told her all about Blake, leaving out everything except her gender. If that kiss they exchanged in the changing room didn't make it obvious enough, seeing Blake in the flesh herself surely would. Without another word, she quickly walked off toward the minifridge, despite having a nearly-full cup.

Leaving her with the raven-haired woman, and her blond boyfriend, who'd paced over and stood by her side. "Day full of surprises, huh, Blake? I mean there's Neptune, and Weiss, and your old pal, Yang. Maybe Neon Katt will pop out of the closet or something!”

"Oh, you know Yang? Wait…" The gears turned, the penny dropped into place. With a gasp that would have been considered theatrical in most circles, Weiss pointed a finger at her and stepped back with a look of surprise on her face. "BLAKE!!!"

The girl's hazel eyes blinked. "Umm… yes, that's… my name. Is that not okay? I could change it!"

"You know Yang! A Blake who knows Yang!"

"I…" Glancing at Sun, she shrugged as if to wordlessly ask, "What should I do?!"

"Hey, your guess is as good as mine!" Sun glanced between them both again and again, having no clue what to even say about the situation but starting to figure out Weiss knew more than she should have. "Did Yang mention Blake before, or something? You must really get along with your bodyguards if you talk about the past that much."

"She did," Weiss said as she finally calmed down. Noticing that all three of them were just openly staring at her - and that one of the three was NEPTUNE, of all people - she cleared her throat and said, "Sorry, I just… was not expecting to meet you in person, after Yang was just talking about you!"

"Oh," Blake said with a slight blush. "What did she… tell you about me?"

"Everything."

"Yo, am I missing out on drama here?" But immediately, Neptune was hit in his side by his blonde friend, just enough to make him shut up immediately. Both were silent, having no idea what to say at all. After all, everything may not mean everything, not if Weiss didn't know about Ying.

Weiss glanced at Neptune. He was a bystander in this - and would have no trouble telling the press if they asked too many questions. Maybe he wouldn't do it to be malicious, but he also would have no way of knowing that he shouldn't spread such rumours around.

"Nope!" Weiss laughed nervously, making a grand gesture with one hand. "It's just so very ironic that I should meet her right after she told me! I mean, what are the odds?!"

"True," Blake laughed, finally beginning to feel less freaked out by everything. Even if the way Weiss stressed that pronoun was a little weird. "Wow, I really thought you were mad at me for some reason for a second there!"

"Not mad! Why would I be mad? I mean, you're Blake! And you're here! It's just really weird, as if you somehow overheard our conversation and decided to show up!" Still laughing like a loon, she glanced around at the other three and saw they were still regarding her as slightly insane, so she cleared her throat and shook Blake's hand again, and much more vigorously than was probably normal. "Well, it's certainly good to meet you!"

"You said that," Blake giggled, seemingly having decided that Weiss was just a gregarious person. "But I guess you didn't know who I was last time. And it’s great meeting you, too!"

At long last, Yang had begun to make her way back, holding a fresh cup of water, which she nervously took a drink from once again. If she avoided the conversation forever, Weiss would never forgive her, and neither would Blake. Once again, she took her place to the side of the both of them, laughing to cover her anxiety. One thing was assured now: Weiss now knew that Yang wasn’t as new to the idea of dating women as Weiss was. That would be a whole other level of fun later.

"H-Hey, so… what’d I miss?"

"Not much," Weiss said immediately, turning a too-bright smile on her bodyguard. "Just chatting to your old friend, Blake! I feel silly, though - I had the impression before that she was a guy! Why would I have thought that?"

As Yang was struggling to come up with an answer, Blake said in a slightly less comfortable voice, "Ohhhh. Well… I think I know why. You didn’t know about before…”

Clenching her teeth together, Yang tried her best to make sure Weiss wasn't looking. Once sure of that fact, she quickly held her hand to her throat, trying to gesture for Blake to cut that part of the conversation. Where she and Blake had left things previously, she had only revealed that the woman she was crushing on had no clue she was trans. Not that Weiss didn't – because she hadn’t revealed the crush was Weiss. Though Blake would probably have little trouble figuring it out now.

"Before what?" Weiss was asking as Blake glanced between her and Yang. Her eyebrows drew in slightly, confused.

Blake did her best to cover. "B-before. I mean, it was a long, long time ago! That we were friends! We went our separate ways, and it's such a shame, you know?"

The diva folded her arms, trying to figure out if she was being put on or if the girl was just awkward. "Ah, yes. And that is a shame! The three of us will have to get breakfast together tomorrow before we leave town!" Then she turned the full force of a pointed stare upon Yang. "WON'T we?"

As soon as she turned, Yang's arms returned to her sides, and she looked down with a nervous grin again. Already sweat was visible on her brow, just as there was a growing blush forming. What a nightmare! Why did she have to bring Blake up earlier that day?! "Y-Yeah, totally! T-That would be awesome."

"Sounds fantastic!" Blake managed to say, eyes wide and shining with pure excitement. "You really want to go have eggs and bacon with a nobody like me?"

"You aren't 'nobody' - you're my bodyguard's old friend! And as you said, you two fell out of touch, didn't you? Seems a real shame to let this opportunity slip through your fingers! Bring your friend there along – the more the merrier!"

Any idiot could tell Blake and Sun were completely enraptured by this invitation. However, Yang had a sneaking suspicion that it would not be all fun and games. The way Weiss kept stressing “old friend” meant there would be a reckoning soon.

The diva’s strides did not slow until she was opening the door to her bus and flinging herself inside. After last time, she couldn't afford to let herself forget to sweep the bus with her own eyes, to make sure no one was hiding in the bathroom or a closet. Once she and Yang were both satisfied, she paced back into the living room, the bodyguard still on her heels.

"Alright. Explain."

Running a shaky hand through her bangs, Yang contemplated her words for a moment. It appeared she was barely keeping herself together; her breath was ragged, sweat clung to her brow, and she could feel her arms quivering in fear. There was nowhere to hide anymore; Weiss was about to find out everything.

"Okay," she began, pulling out one of the chairs for her to lean against to keep her legs from buckling under her. "S-So… B-Blake… and anyone before that, um, they’ve all been…"

"You are a lesbian," Weiss stated flatly. "I mean, I started figuring that out for sure when I felt your tongue in my mouth." Then she seemed to have heard what she herself was saying and sank down into the next nearest chair with her face in her hands. "God… what did I do?!"

"It's not that simple…" Already, she could feel her voice beginning to quiver, and feel her eyes beginning to well up with tears. Her worst nightmare was coming true before her, that Weiss regretted what they both did, that she'd probably hate her. "But what I don't understand is… you… you kissed me, you didn't pull away."

"I know!" After a few deep breaths, she looked up, her mascara running down her cheeks. She looked more forlorn than Yang had ever seen her. "That's what I mean: what did I do? You're already some big homosexual – obviously, since you dated Blake-who-turned-out-to-be-a-girl! But… but when you tried to kiss me, or even got close enough that a kiss might happen, I should have been disgusted, should have punched you in the boob! And I didn't, so… so what does that mean?"

"I don't know," she began instead, pulling her chair out even more and sitting herself down reasonably close to Weiss. Yang couldn't bring herself to correct her anymore, nor could she bring herself to fight any of what Weiss was saying. They were both a mess, both still confused about what exactly happened in that dressing room. But there was only one thing Yang was sure of. Only one thing she could possibly comment on. "But I liked it."

"Of course you did!" Weiss burst out, standing up and pacing back and forth in the living room. "I'm WEISS! Do you know how many little fanboys would kill to have been in your shoes earlier this evening?" After a few breaths, she then went on, "And… fangirls. I do know I have some girl fans who like me in a more-than-admiration sense; I tried not to think about it, since it’s still weird to me, but they're out there. I'm not stupid."

Then she stopped and stared down at Yang, shouting, "Say something! Tell me how to get rid of these feelings - or how to use them properly, or something! I'm so completely lost, this is something I never had to think about before!"

"Then don't!!!" she shouted right back, clenching her fists down either side of her as she remained seated in the chair. Her cheeks were utterly red, her hair an unwelcome mess, tears running down her face. But not even allowing for herself to catch her breath again, she continued, "J-Just do what I've done for the past… forever! Don't think about it! Just do what you want, Weiss, and… and stop giving a shit what people will think!"

All the energy seemed to go out of the little diva's stance as she watched Yang, as she listened to how upset she was, saw that she was as affected by their situation, if not more. And she kept looking at her lips, always her lips…

Her legs were stepping forward, around Yang's, and she was suddenly straddling her and lowering herself down onto her lap. It was warm and firm underneath the soft skin and fabric of her clothes. Immediately, her heart began thundering in her throat, hands shaking as she slowly raised them to rest against Yang's shoulders.

And with such a simple action, Yang's mind was a blur. Weiss was in the worst possible position, straddling her lap, pushed up right against her body. She could feel her against the very area she didn't want Weiss to discover at all, especially when it was a ticking time bomb. Yet she never once moved. She remained in that chair as she was, letting out a shaky gasp when hands held onto her shoulders. Her eyes remained locked onto the orbs of blue, and so Weiss could see her at last, she reached up to pull her shades off, tossing them on the table by their side.

Now that their gazes were completely locked in each other, Weiss shrugged one shoulder, biting her lip and looking much more shy than she ever had before. For a few seconds, she remained like that, but when Yang didn't push her further, she whispered, "I'm… not sure what else to do. I don't even know if what I've done so far is okay, or… if I’m…"

It was up to Yang to make the decision. No matter what she picked, it would both be brave, and stupid. No matter what happened, she'd have to talk about it, have to explain it in some depth to Weiss. It might as well be the option they both clearly wanted.

So she moved her own hand to the back of Weiss's hair, pulling her in as she pressed their lips against one another for the second time that evening. This time, she felt a more urgent need, felt a far greater desire. She kept kneading her lips against the heiress's over and over again, not wanting to stop.

With a frustrated and grateful whine, Weiss returned the kiss even harder than before, arms sliding up and hanging down Yang's back, clutching at her from either side of the chairback. She wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing, but she knew the thing was worth doing right. After a few seconds, she began to take more risks, to open her mouth to Yang again - on her own this time, remembering how exciting and strange it had been before. Arched her back under Yang's touch, moaned into their mouths. Encouraged in all ways she could encourage.

They were both on autopilot, gasping whenever their mouths parted, re-joining them with little delay. Yang accepted the open mouth right away, poking her tongue into the diva’s to caress and touch while she pulled her in further. She remembered where they were last time - that her hand was on Weiss's thigh, brushing down, then upward, bringing what little layer of skirt there was with it. And she repeated that process, gradually stroking the side of her leg more and more.

But the longer it was happening, the more she could feel the heat building below. Too far gone for her to control now. And as she felt Weiss push her hips forward against her, it was far too much for her to stop. This really was a countdown to destruction now.

Initially, the feeling of a hand on her thigh - where one had never, ever gone before - was definitely enough of a distraction for the virginal young singer. Her breathing grew shakier as she squirmed against Yang's body, and when she felt fingers grazing her hindquarters she finally did let out a sharper squeak and pulled back from the kiss, blinking down at Yang in mild surprise.

"You… really don't… hold anything back, do you?"

"You should know that… from how I work by now," she panted, raising one of her eyebrows so she could finally smile. The first sign of confidence in hours. Firmly grasping one of the cheeks of her backside, she whispered, "I don't half-ass anything."

Another shriek, this one much more pronounced and less involuntary. "Y-Yang Xiao Long! Your… what are you doing to me?!" But when she shifted her hips with the fingers still wrapped around her cheek, the next noise out of her mouth was a moan of such desire that she couldn't even manage to present a decent front of being offended. Cheeks now flaming red, she breathed, "You… know exactly what you're doing, I guess! Oh wow, it feels so…"

And each time Weiss squirmed forward, each time her body raked itself all over her warmth below, Yang found herself getting closer to a more obvious result. How she wished that clothes weren't keeping them apart! But at the same time… sensing Weiss would be able to feel her soon, she shakily began, "Weiss, I… I gotta tell you something… and it’s pretty important."

"Wh… huh?" Weiss had been just about to press her lips to Yang's again, but she did refrain when she heard the words. Even though she couldn't keep her body from thrusting forward, feeling the odd sensation that the grip on her rump seemed to create. Just that simple difference in one half of her backside grinding against the other was so unique!

And there was something else. Something warm and rigid pressing against the front of herself, very close to her burning centre. Her arousal-fevered mind couldn't puzzle out what it might mean, so in that moment she simply found herself grateful that it was there for her to rub up against.

"Weiss, p-please…" But she barely had the strength to stop her. Every time she felt Weiss grinding her centre up against the front of her shorts, she found herself moaning out once again. And it wouldn't stop. Each time she pulled against it, she felt a quiver down her spine, a shaky moan growing ever stronger. She needed this. As much as she needed to tell Weiss beforehand, she wanted to give in immediately.

All Weiss did was grind harder when she heard Yang's plea, misunderstanding the nature of it. She thought she wanted more, to feel more of each other's bodies creating this delicious friction. That was something she could completely understand - because she craved it, too. Not even fully understanding why, or what her body was doing or asking for, she obliged, feeling hotness flash outward from the muscle pressing into her sensitive crescent through the thin layers of fabric. Two layers - that's all that separated Weiss from…

From what? Part of her knew there was something unusual about this, but she was too far gone to stop, to puzzle it out. Yang felt perfect in her arms, and she aimed to enjoy every last second of her there. To drink her in until whatever was about to happen within her spilled over and exploded.

That was until a minute or two later, when Yang felt one particular quiver that felt too strong to ignore. It was undeniably good, and she had no doubt that if she allowed Weiss to continue any longer, she would find herself at her end. Just as Weiss would, as well. In a last ditch attempt to break her out of her spell before that end, before she'd immediately regret it, she let go of her backside, moving her hands onto either of her thighs to stop her thrusting forward again, breath ragged when she finally found her voice again.

"Stop!"

A final squeak sounded from Weiss's throat, and she swayed visibly when sitting still. She had been so close! To what, she wasn't really sure; she'd never done anything even remotely like that before in her entire life! But she passed a hand over her face and tried to focus.

"I'm… what was… what were we just doing?"

Yang just kept a hold of her hips, keeping her from thrusting forward again, or from falling back, panting deeply to regain her breath. She very nearly would have finished herself; she could still feel the knots in her stomach, and the pulsing between her thighs. But she looked downward still, to what was between them. The subject of her protest: the large, rigid bulge that Weiss was grinding against.

And finally, Weiss's eyes followed her gaze down. And she saw it. Not just felt it, but SAW it. Licking her lips, she tried to think through all the possibilities. They weren't anything she had expected - none of them were. But a few of them would freak her out less than the others.

"S-so…" Clearing her throat so her voice wouldn't be so squeaky, she tried again. "I don't… suppose you're wearing one of those toys they sell at Spencer's in your shorts, are you?"

Slowly, Yang shook her head. Once more, she could feel the tears beginning to well up in her eyes. This was going to be the moment that would ruin all her good fortune. Might as well get it over with.

"Sorry, but it's real." She sounded so weak now, pathetic in comparison to her normal self, like she was trying to stop herself completely breaking. "A-and it always has been. Since Scarlet, since Blake… since I was born. One of the only things about my body I haven’t changed yet."

"Oh."

In contrast to her seemingly aloof response, Weiss’s body began to tremble slightly. Both the unreleased orgasm and her fear at what she was walking into were to blame. Unable to help herself, she moved her hand inward and, just to be sure, pressed at it lightly with her index finger. Staring at her movements, Yang’s lower lip quivered yet again. Their emotions were mirrored, both arousal and fear. Now Weiss knew the truth, and she hadn't run away screaming just yet. Her hands were exploring.

"You don't… mind?"

Taking a deep breath, she began to stroke her through the shorts. The length responded - twitched. The nature of the spandex made it visible in a way that it wouldn't be if her shorts were made of more rugged material, like denim. Her hand jerked away, but still she did not throw herself out of Yang's lap, did not run from the room.

"I… don't know. I’ve just never seen one before in my entire life." Blue eyes looking up into Yang's, imploring her to understand what she meant despite her inadequate wording, she whispered, "And I always… y-you know, with Caitlyn and Laverne, I just thought they were degenerates or something, like my father said, but… you've been all woman until now! And I wasn't attracted to you the way I was to Neptune! So… so what am I supposed to think?"

"’Until now’?" Her eyebrows came together, expression of worry and fear completely obvious. As if her world were about to completely crumble apart.

"Well…" Weiss sensed she had made a misstep, but didn't know what it had been. "You know. You do have a…" Her chin nodded down toward Yang's lap. But she saw the alarm in Yang's eyes so she followed up quietly, "I'm sorry, it feels like I'm offending you somehow - but you never told me about this! How am I supposed to know what to say?!"

"Well, it’s not like I could introduce myself to everyone with 'Hi, I'm Yang, I have a dick,' right?" Weiss jumped as if someone had pinched her. It had much the same effect; she was shocked into realizing the reality of Yang's situation. Anyone else responding this way would have earned themselves a stern tongue-lashing, an immediate education on where they had gone wrong – that might or might not end with a punch to the gut, depending on how they handled the conversation.

But she couldn't with Weiss. She simply couldn't bring herself to raise her voice, or say anything too harshly. Shakily breathing to try and calm herself again, held her gaze as she went on, "I know I should have told you before this happened. Either when I was hired, or after that f-first kiss, I guess. But I couldn't. I j-just thought… maybe just once, someone could like me for who I am. But that wasn’t right, a-and when I did try to tell you… it was too late."

The poor, bewildered diva knew she wanted to ask a lot of questions. However, her mouth opened and, as had been happening so much lately in relation to Yang, something completely useless came out first.

"How big are you?" Immediately after, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands tightened on Yang's hips. "I m-mean… that's not okay to ask, is it? God, Weiss you idiot, what is wrong with you?!"

In the midst of their point of breaking, such a question didn't make Yang cry. It didn't make her yell. Beyond everything Weiss expected, she was actually chuckling, and even erupting into laughter. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but at least she wasn’t fully upset. Out of all the reactions she had ever heard, that was one of the more positive ones. Even if Weiss didn't think so. But once she had calmed herself back down enough, she placed a hand on Weiss's thigh, patting softly.

"Maybe you’ll find out. If you wanted to keep going, I mean."

Owlish eyes gazed down at the hand on her thigh. Her brain didn't seem to be functioning anymore. They flicked between the hand and the bulge in Yang's shorts, entirely beside herself. However… the bulge was so close to her own heated centre, and she swallowed hard when she realized that, tensing the muscles in her thighs involuntarily. "I don’t know… this can't be happening…" Her hand drifted toward the shorts again, but she hesitated. "Can I…?"

Finally feeling brave enough, Yang was able to smile again, shuffling herself back further onto the chair again so the position was better and nodding. Again, she touched - but this time, all of her fingers wrapped around the girth of it through the layers of fabric. It was most definitely real; she had some misgivings until now, worried that this was an elaborate practical joke. But the warmth and the way it didn't feel like a hunk of plastic dispelled those vain hopes.

"Oh wow… you're so…"

Yang's eyes eased half closed again. Weiss was so gently holding her, being so delicate as she moved her hand over it. She remembered in the past when one fling had grasped it, even tried to tug to test if it was real. Needless to say, that earned them a punch in the mouth. But Weiss was doing quite well for a novice. And now she was sure that she would be one of the better ones. One like Blake. And with that thought in mind, she relaxed herself fully, focusing on only how good things felt.

When she glanced up at Yang's face, saw her leaning back and enjoying the action, she held perfectly still for a long second as she tried to fight down her fear. This wasn't easy for her; it could be seen plain as day in the way her mouth was set in a thin line, the way her eyes kept squeezing shut to steel herself to continue. But, at last, she did. Her hand glided all the way up until her fingertips were pressing against the head, testing the difference there.

"Hmmmmhh," she sighed in contentment. Even through shorts, the contact against her head wasn't something to be frowned at. Feeling herself starting to grin, she couldn't help but shift her hips back and forth on the chair again, squirming from the left over pleasure.

After a few minutes of this, Weiss began to feel more brave. Not more at ease, not that she fully understood the situation, but that she was ready to explore. That was her state of mind when her other hand raised up and began to slide the waistband of Yang's shorts downward.

She allowed it. The material slid downward, exposing her. She even aided in it, shifting herself on the chair so that it could be pulled down behind, and down her legs. She still wasn't fully revealed yet; her underwear hid the object in question itself. Lace underwear, of all things. But through the thin material and the gaps in its opacity, the shape of her was far more noticeable. She was average in length; firm in hardness. Perhaps her shaft was thicker than most boys, but its authenticity couldn't be denied.

"So big," Weiss breathed numbly as she teased it through the lace again. "But… your waist, and your hips… you’re so girly."

Now that the shorts were momentarily out of the way, the free hand glided up the contour of Yang's hips and waist, stopping to unbutton her jacket when it got in her way. Now she was petting her abs as well, testing the feeling of soft skin, of her very real curves. With one hand giving her delicate touches, the other giving attention to her length, Yang was in complete bliss. She was so used to any and all flings being rough affairs, that she would have to fight for some level of dominance or be wrestled into the pillows. But this was a welcome change.

Attempting to somehow return the favour, she allowed her hands to stroke Weiss's hips, stroking up and down over her clothing to try and stimulate her right back. One hand trailed by the bottom of her top, pulling lightly at the bottom of it. A simple way to request if she could take it off.

A request that she didn't notice; she was far too focused on Yang's anatomy. "You're so much more womanly than I am, I'd kill to have your figure, these tits, and it's… impossible, because then there's…" Her hand squeezed the arousal instead of finishing her sentence. "Can I… can I see?"

"You can… but…" There was a way they could both get what they wanted. It depended if she was brave enough, if Weiss was as well. Pressing her arms into her back, she pulled her inward toward her for a moment, finally asking, "Won’t we be more comfortable in the bed?"

"In the…" All the colour drained from Weiss's face, and she drew back to gape down at her bodyguard's violet eyes. "Oh my God, I… you want t-to- YANG! I can't! I've never- what kind of a girl do you take me for?!"

Yet again, any confidence she had just vanished. Even with a famous pop star sat on her lap, caressing her sex through her underwear, she felt like the smallest, most pathetic thing on earth. And there wasn't any way she could recover from that without a little mental effort. "Shit, I thought- I didn't mean…"

"You thought I'd just hop into bed with you?!" Then, all at once, she seemed to realize she was sitting on a girl's lap - and that there was a rigid cock in between them. She pushed to a standing position, nearly falling in the process but managing to catch herself on the back of the other chair. "You're a… whatever this is, and I was trying to understand, to… I mean, maybe it's weird that I wanted to explore with my hands, maybe I shouldn't have, but I'm n-not ready to go that far!"

"No, wait- you didn’t have to! I just thought… with you touching me, it seemed like… oh fuck!"

Now her breathing was becoming rapid for different reasons. Shame, guilt, fear. It didn't even matter if Weiss had said some slightly offensive things; she had ruined everything in one simple phrase. She'd probably lost her job, as well. Within a few seconds she was back on her feet and sprinting toward the nearest safe place: the bathroom. She didn't even stop to give Weiss an explanation, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it firmly.

That the diva had leapt back in fear didn't register with Yang as she sprinted through the bus. She had assumed Yang was about to charge her. Why? Because she had a male organ? Yes. If she were really honest with herself, that had been why she found herself suddenly terrified that Yang was going to pounce on her. Of course, she felt incredibly silly a moment later when she saw she was simply trying to hide herself away in the bathroom. The little squeaked "WAIT!" had done no good.

All this time, Yang had been a man? Well… that wasn't accurate, she knew, but it was at least in one way; she had an honest-to-goodness dick. Maybe she was using improper terminology, because anyone could see that Yang was no "man", but it didn't change the fact that she had gone from thinking she was straight, to thinking she was gay… to having no idea how to classify things now. Her sheltered brain really had no way to interpret everything she was learning.

The room spun slightly, and she had to get herself a bottle of water to calm her nerves. She was tempted to get something else from a security guard, something stronger, but she wasn't sure that would be wise. For now, she simply sat in a chair, wondering how the night could have gone so terribly wrong.

But maybe there was still time to salvage the situation. Weiss had some mental gymnastics to execute, but she wanted to try. For Yang. After all, if she couldn’t figure out a way around this one little problem, it really would spell doom for the two of them.

[bananashemmo]

Hatred For Love

Pairing: Cheerleader!Y/N/Jock!Ashton

Rating: NC-All

Request: No

Words: 6.000+

Summary: When lead cheerleader Y/N and football captain Ashton are forced to share tent at a camp trip to try put down the rival between the cheerleaders and footballers things seem to collapse with a compass and a map in the lost woods.

“No way! I don’t give a shitty crap I’m not doing this!” 

The echo of Ashton’s voice was loud in the bus filled with students. The expression on his face matched the aggressive tone he had, his eye color almost changed into a darker shade. 

“There’s no way in hell that I’m sharing a tent with Y/N Y/L/N!” 

He almost had to look down at the paper again just to be sure. Was it really just a nightmare? Or had it turned into something real because if it was, his first mission would be to jump out of the bus without hesitation. 

“It says so.” Calum explained with an apologizing look on his face. He understood Ashton was upset but he needed to face reality. 

Ashton looked blank and glanced down at the paper again. Was his name really matched? It didn’t make any sense and the football trip he had been looking forward to seemed to shatter. 

“Is this a fucking joke?!” 

He looked up by the sound of the exact same tone as his. You were standing by the end of the bus with red cheeks and the most frustrated expression as possible.

“I’m not fucking joking bitch I’m not gonna share a fucking tent with him!” 

Calum almost had to stop from cracking up in laughter. The scenario was too good to be true and it almost didn’t come as a surprise to him. To anyone besides the two of you. 

Ashton was standing in front of  the rest of the team and expressing his anger. You were standing in front of the cheerleaders who were ready to come up and backtalk - the thing you all were best at when it came to boys. 

“I’m gonna talk to Coach Hanson about this there’s no way in hell I’m doing this for a full week.” With a shake of disbelief Ashton crumbled the paper in his large hand and stood up from his seat.

He didn’t care if the bus was moving and rules said they had to be seated and belted for the ride. If he wasn’t going to blow up the whole bus with his temper he would need to clear out his anger issues. 

“Coach Hanson I’m afraid that we have to-,” 

“Mrs. Daniels I think we have an misunderstanding.” 

Before Ashton could get the chance to finish his sentence you walked right out of your seat and stopped him in track from walking in the small bus hallway. 

You waved your ponytail right in his face as you walked out and didn’t even want to look over your shoulder. You didn’t have the time to stand and argue with him because just the thought of sharing something where he was included made you gag. 

Both Mrs. Daniels and Coach Hanson looked up as you marched down to the front part of the bus where they were seated with a nice cup of coffee each.

Just by the look of their calm faces it spoiled that they had been preparing for this moment and didn’t want to give in for your begs and pleads. 

“Mrs. Daniels! I don’t think it’s appropriate to create a mix up. Is there any way possible that I can switch tent partners and to someone else like Giovanna?” 

Ashton rolled his eyes when you stopped right in front of you, nearly backing his chest against your back. He looked down at you for a short moment and he shook his head in disbelief by the way you were standing. 

“Oh could you press your boobs harder together in that cheerleading uniform I’m not sure if Michael in the back of the bus can see them.” 

“I sure as hell can, lad.” Michael quickly yelled back and made a thumbs up in the air. 

You rolled your eyes again by the offensiveness and just for the sake of them moved your shirt up because that wasn’t really your intention after all.

“What I’m saying is that I’m in no way near position to share something of his. I can’t even stand being next to him right now so can you please for the love of the god change us as partners? We’re speaking world war three here.” 

Coach Hanson and Mrs. Daniels didn’t change their expressions in fact they only looked amused by the way you were reacting.

You almost felt like wanting to stamp your foot down because you felt they didn’t take your words seriously at all. 

“Coach Hanson you don’t understand if I have to hear her voice throughout the whole night talking about how important the cheerleading squad is for the football team there’s no way I’m gonna get any sleep and achieve the performance you’d demand. There’s no good in this and I swear everyone will be satisfied if you change it.” 

“My voice? What are you on about do you think I talk in my sleep?” You commented before Coach Hanson could.

“What about me and my beauty sleep? If I have to witness to your loud snoring all night I’ll end up choking you with my goddamn sock.” 

“I don’t snore.” Ashton was just as quick to respond and looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah tell that to Diana after you slept with her and nearly ruined her hearing.” You glared up at him before crossed your arms because you could do so much better than stand and argue with him. 

There could never not be enough apologizes. 

“You guys can argue to the moon and it will never not be amusing to us but we’ve decided to let it be that way.” Mrs. Daniels was so calm with her voice it was like your arguments didn’t have any affect. 

“But isn’t there a rule saying that girls and boys shouldn’t be allowed to sleep in the same tent at camps?” Ashton asked seconds later and you looked over at Coach Hanson who shook his head. 

“Yes if you live in a world where boys and girls can’t get along.” 

“But we can’t get along!” You argued and this time stamped your foot down, “We can’t even stand looking at each other!” 

“We’re aware.” Mrs. Daniels nodded her head in agreement, her reddish curls bouncing along.

“And that is the reason why we’ve decided that you’re going to share a tent.” 

“But how is that any good?” Ashton crossed his arms this and time and flashed his biceps, sometimes he did that to just make a better impression and you shook your head in disbelief. 

“Well considering the two of you hate each other we thought it would be a better way to get to know each other and connect. For the whole week you’re going to be addicted to each other because everything will be paired up.” Coach Hanson explained and Mrs. Daniels nodded her head in agreement. 

“Because we think that they is always this kind of rival between the cheerleaders and the football team we thought it would be a better way to connect by allowing the two leaders to work together. We all know that in the end we’re a full team that is supposed to be unite and one.” 

“Okay but how about we just appreciate the cheerleading squad and give us more space? That way we will already connect more as a team!” You barely believed Mrs. Daniels words because they didn’t make any sense.

“Yeah because the attention should be on the cheerleading squad and not the footballers who is actually carrying the game and the reason why people have showed up.” 

Ashton’s argument was so weak but Coach Hanson was quick to reply. 

“I think we can all agree that no matter what you’re in a need of each other. To make sure that things will go well and we’ll get a better tension among each other it’s all up to you. And that is the reason why we’ve made the decision we have.” 

“Think of it as something fun. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two about each other that will surprise you.” Mrs. Daniels finished and from that you both knew there was no way you could argue anymore.

You had to share a tent together and it had to be from the start to the end of this trip. 

Ashton shook his head in disbelief and made his curls bounce. They had grown long the last couple of weeks he had to wear a hair tie when he was playing football to not block out his sight. 

He didn’t say more but turned around and headed back to the end of the bus. 

Neither did you want to stand and look stupid so you hurried back to your squad and pressed the tie around your ponytail harsher. 

This was the official start of world war three. 

Ashton almost wanted to rip off his curls. This was something he had looked forward to for so long, it was something they did as the football team every year when the school was about to end as a celebration.

But this year it was something different, the cheerleaders were brought along.

When he first heard he thought it was a joke. In fact he was laughing ridiculously until the end of the meeting when he figured out it was actually for real. 

It was no shock to everyone that the footballers and cheerleaders hated each other. So of course, it had to be this way and to make it even worse, it had to be for more than just one hour of practice in the gym hall. 

Ashton couldn’t even remember back to the first time he met you because he already knew from that that he hated you.

There was something about the way you stepped into the gym hall or the football field for the first time that made his blood boil. The confidence you had by showing you literally owned everything made him crack his knuckles. 

It was no doubt that steam was coming out from his ears when your attitude was just like he predicted.

It could have been  taken out from a movie. How everything was going on around you could be close to a script and sometimes Ashton had to hold in the profatonites leaving his lips when he saw you. 

It wasn’t even on purpose he hit you square across the face when you stood on the top of the pyramid at practice. It was like destiny calling because from that exact moment, you hated him more than green stains on your cheerleading uniform. 

You were so furious your face almost matched your red lipstick. There was no way possible that he could just do that, and without apology. 

But once you showed up in his face it was only as if Ashton was more tempted. It was a laugh to see you mess up during tricks and he almost wished you had fallen down in the process.

“You think you can just do that without at least saying you’re sorry?” You were so angry your arms were pressed harshly together but the only thing Ashton could notice was your cleavage. 

“It’s not my fault you almost fell for me? Get over yourself princess this is football. Not your show.” 

Ashton could tell he could say anything to you and you would boil over. If a pan of salted sweetcorn was hanging right above your head it would be able to create popcorn within seconds. 

If it was war he wanted it was war he would get.

No matter where you went there would either be a profanity escaping your lips or he would roll his eyes. Everyone was aware of your rival because it was worse than all the other team mates and cheerleaders. 

It was destiny calling by having the lead cheerleader and the football captain hating each other. 

This was nothing like the typical high school movies. This wasn’t something where you would be the cute couple hanging around in the hallways and kissing behind door lockers. 

No this was full war filled with evil pranks and ways trying to get the other to get attention to miss practice. It was always about tearing the other one down. 

When the bus stopped Ashton’s head almost fell into the front seat it was that harsh the break was pushed. Or maybe it wasn’t like that but his head felt so heavy he didn’t want to step outside. 

He was the last one to walk out and into the large crowd of students standing in front of Coach Hanson and Mrs. Daniels. 

He had no idea what was going to happen but he did not like the idea already when he was ordered to walk towards his “tent partner”. God how he hated those words already. 

It was with a glare he stood beside you and placed his gym back on the grass filled with football jerseys and different pairs of shoes.

You already had a backpack of your own and a little purse next to it but he had no idea what was in it. What was supposed to be used for makeup in the woods, this was a camp for god sake. 

You exchanged another glare before your eyes adverted towards Coach Hanson who cleared his throat to grab attention. 

“Welcome everyone to Camp F17. The camp where we gather football players from North High and now, also for a change, the cheerleaders of North High. To start out everything we’d like for you to shake hands with your tent partners, tell one lie and two truths about yourself.” 

You tightened your lips together and turned around to look up at Ashton who had his sports-bag placed between his feet. 

You didn’t know who should start or not but as you both opened your mouth at once the words were exclaimed. 

“I hate you.” 

That one was pretty easy and the both of you knew from the other way that it was the truth. You were looking down at your feet using your shoe to kick some grass away from the dirt.

“Capri-Sun with Safari Fruits is my favorite juice drink before practice.” Ashton was quicker to speak than you and you raised your eyebrows by his random choice of fact. 

“I uh-,” You looked up confused by his words and crossed your arms again. 

“When I eat a banana I leave the end of it in the banana peel because I think it’s too bitter for my taste.”

It was just as random as Ashton’s and neither did he seem impressed. He had his eyebrows furrowed because of it being just as weird and he felt it was his turn again. 

“I use conditioner sometimes because it’s easier to control the air after practice.” 

“What brand?” You weren’t supposed to ask but curiosity took over and the words flied out from your mouth.

You were never the one to small talk so you quickly furrowed your eyebrows and wanted to change to subject because to be honest you could care less about his curly locks. 

“I don’t eat breakfast in the morning because I think it makes me heavier for morning practice.” It was a stupid one you knew but it was the only one thing that came to your mind and Ashton nodded his head slowly.

You had no idea what else to say but when you took a look around you could see that everyone else were far behind.

They were standing trying to come up with something and you were surprised that some were getting more along than others. It wasn’t matching up with girls and boys so you weren’t actually the only one who had to suffer.

Ashton glared bored over at Calum and Michael who were having a fun time trying to come up with some stupid facts. They did in fact know each other for the longest so they could come up with something random that the other definitely wouldn’t guess. 

He took a look at the large field you were standing on.

The weather was so nice in fact it was actually really great. He could already feel how he was going to sweat so much when they would start the football games whether it would just be for fun or actually practicing. 

It was always like this every year. It was always such a nice whether it was like they were brought with luck every time.

But if Ashton squeezed his eye tight he could tell that clouds were slowly coming from distance. 

They were far away but they were nicely grey and dark, just like he was feeling by being surrounded by so many cheerleaders at once.

If the weather would turn into something horrible he would already know why. 

He looked away from the clouds to see you stand with a small frown on your face. You were glancing towards some of your friends actually having fun and it was a miss because you had looked forward to this too.

Well enough you had never tried it before but it was somehow and honor to be brought along. Besides it meant you had to skip science classes and you were more grateful of that than ever. 

But to be honest you just wanted to go back to the bus again and sit. It would be much more fun than to stand next to Ashton and feel the hate vibrate. 

Everyone was surprised you didn’t rip each other’s heads off yet. But you knew that with the wrong words someone would commit a murder tonight. 

You grabbed the elastic band out from your hair and let it fall down to your shoulders. It was getting cold because of the wind and with your bare shoulders from the cheerleader uniform heat was needed. 

You didn’t like where this was going because Coach Hanson had more “team building” activities in his mind before you would settle down with your tents. 

“Okay, I hope everyone got the chance to know each other a little bit better. I think we did.” Coach Hanson yelled and he looked over at Mrs. Daniels with a smile.

If someone would actually have sex tonight the tension was obvious already. 

“Before we team you up and walk into the woods we just have to make one more small activity. I think what this trip is not going to be about winning and playing, it going to be about getting to know each other on different levels.” 

You didn’t like the fact that he said teaming up and walking into the woods but you couldn’t think more about it before he changed the attention to the new activity. 

“I think you all know it pretty well when we stand like this.” Coach Hanson turned to Mrs. Daniels and watched her move around so her back was facing his chest. 

When she deliberately fell towards his waiting arms your eyes widened and you shook your head in disbelief.

Ashton did the same thing and scratched his chin slightly. There was no way possible that you would get through a test like that because you well knew there was no trust between you what so ever. 

“It’s the trust fall challenge.” Mrs. Daniels was so excited in her tone after moving away from Coach Hanson and she clapped her hands together. 

“We expect that once this trip is over you all will be able to do this without such problems. It’s about trusting each other because if you can’t do that at a cheer or at a game, you can’t do anything together. It’s what brings us all together as one unite. You have to trust the person standing in front of you.” 

You turned to Ashton after rolling your eyes deeply. 

He was having the same look on his face and from the way he was standing you could already predict what he had in mind.

“I’m not starting.” You stated and pointed a finger at him.

He was the last person you trusted, probably all around the world. There was no way you would let him stand and prepare to just drop you to the ground like you were nothing but air to him. 

“What? You think I’m gonna start? You can’t start pulling the ‘I’m the woman I should start first’ shit. It’s not 1993 anymore. I have just as much right to start as you do.” 

He always had great arguments but there was no way possible you would let him start this. If this had to be fair it had to be random who would start this out.

“Rock, paper, scissor?” The suggestion was simple and great from your side, Ashton didn’t even need to be convinced to do so. 

When he fist his hand together and prepared for the small game you looked at him twice in the ours before saying the words out loud.

It was like victory when you saw he had picked paper just like you had predicted he would.

“Scissor beats paper.” Your tone was teasing and annoying but you honestly couldn’t care. You weren’t the one to lose.

“Fucking fine.” Ashton cursed under his mouth and turned around with his back facing you.

But whether he did it on purpose or not you weren’t sure but the sudden dirt being kicked up on your uniform made your eyes go wide. 

“Ashton you did not fucking just spill dirt on my uniform do you know how much this costs?” You were beyond angry by the stain that was so obvious to the otherwise black and white uniform you almost wanted to yell out loud. 

Before you could react probably after looking up from your uniform a yelp came from your lips.

Unaware of what was going to happen Ashton fell backwards but without anything to catch him.

It was a loud groan that came from his lips when he fell down to the ground. Well enough it was grass but it still hurt his back like hell and he couldn’t avoid the very small rock that made a cut in his forehead. 

“Are you in the fucking hell shit kidding me?” Curses came from Ashton’s lips per milliseconds and you looked down at him with wide eyes.

“Y/N this is all your fault?” 

“My fault?” You pointed at yourself and furrowed your eyebrows, “How the hell can this be my fault?” 

“You were supposed to catch me!” Ashton argued and ran a hand through his hair to find out he had blood leaking from a small cut. 

“Yes on the count of three! You can’t just fall and expect me to catch you without being prepared.” You crossed your arms not finding his anger fair. He was the one after all who messed up your uniform.

“Ladies and gentleman.” Coach Hanson grabbed everyone’s attention by clapping his hands together and walked towards you.

“This is how you not handle the challenge.” 

You could feel the blush spread on your cheeks by the sudden attention that was put on you. Along with you having dirt all over your clothes and having Ashton bleeding on the ground it looked like some sort of ridiculous scene. 

You didn’t even give Ashton a hand to get up as he did it by himself and tried to remove his hair so it wouldn’t get blood on it. 

“You need to trust each other. Especially you two.” Mrs. Daniels said and added extra pressure as she glanced between you.

They still didn’t look mad, on the contrary they were so amused because this was just exactly like they had predicted it would be. 

It was a nightmare. 

You looked up at Ashton once he stood up but it was not with smiles on your faces. You had no idea what the purpose of these tasks were but they had not helped you get any closer. 

You rolled your eyes and headed towards the circle of people that was created with Mrs. Daniels and Coach Hanson in the middle.

Just by the look on their faces you didn’t like the way this was going.

“If you think the partnership is over now you’re in for a treat.” Mrs. Daniels said and both yours and Ashton’s eyes widened when she pulled out small maps and a compass. 

Ashton’s mouth fell and he could already feel how his brain was starting to function but he could barely remember anything. Now was not a good time to think back to the geography classes he mostly had skipped for football.

You on the other hand had never spent a single time with geography at all. You had no idea where you were in the first place. 

“We’ve decided that this year you will figure out where we are going to live by yourself. Usually we walk the trip together hand in hand through the woods but sometimes it’s time for a change. You all will receive a small map and a compass and please do remember this. It’s a partners tasks, not something where you can follow in groups. You have to do this all by yourselves.” 

Your eyebrows lifted in confuse when the map was placed in your hands. You had no idea where was what and Ashton was just as confused when he received the compass.

“We think independence is important here and to see if everyone has listened in either health or geography I’m sure this will turn out great. No help from others, no cellphones and for the love of god. Don’t kill each other.” 

You weren’t sure if Coach Hanson was serious about the last thing but the glare Ashton sent you was almost the same thing. 

He was looking down at the compass confused, the red arrow wasn’t helping his situation at all and you could tell he had no idea what to do. 

“This is not a good idea.” You moaned with your hands in your face. 

“You think?” Ashton spat and followed the rest of the boys and girls towards the start of the wood.

It was clear that everyone was confused but they still made the effort to try. You could feel from Ashton’s attitude that this was something you had to sort out because he wasn’t even giving it a try. 

You couldn’t even see what was wood or where you were standing. The only thing obvious on the map was the lake far away with a small X saying where you were supposed to meet up and camp. 

It was with goofy laughter and confusion everyone split in the woods. Everyone was clearly heading in different directions not to follow each other and so did you. 

At first it was Ashton walking in front but as he had no idea how to use the compass you tried to take control of the situation. 

“I think we should go in this direction.” You pointed towards what seemed to be an easier way to go with bushes, trees and what else to offer. 

“You sure about that?” Ashton asked like he couldn’t care less you almost wanted to smack the map in his face. 

“You think I can do this on my own?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows and pushed past him to get to the small path that was made by people taking trips in the wood. 

“No because someone ends up getting hurt. Give me that.” Without hesitation the map was taking out of your hands and switched out with the compass instead. 

“You think I can use this?” You were almost in disbelief of how he was handling the situation. 

“No screw the compass. We just have to trust our instincts. It’s just like on the Map App on an iPhone. Just follow the blue path.” 

You weren’t the slightest convinced by his words but in the end it was the best way to go. 

You had no idea where to walk so everything was done spontaneously. If something seemed easier to walk in you took that turn and if something came up that looked like the lake you would walk straight towards it.

What wasn’t expected was how easy it was to be fooled in the trap of trees. 

It was like no matter where you went you felt you had been standing in the exact same position. It felt like driving in a roundabout and never actually getting out of it. 

You almost wanted to roll your eyes when Ashton had decided you needed to turn to the left. It was the exact same small bushes with red roses that you had walked past there was no use of doing it again.

“Ashton we’ve been here! Twice!” The frustration was loud in your tone and to this point it didn’t even matter if your outfit had turned into mud because so had your shoes. 

He looked over his shoulder because it was something you had been repeating endlessly. 

“Well maybe you should take over then! It gives me headache to hear your voice all the damn time and I’m not the only one who’s supposed to figure out where to go!” 

He placed the map in your eyes and all of the sudden all responsibility were on you.

You glared at him with wide eyes and shook your head in disbelief because even if he was the one controlling direction in the first place you were still there for moral support. 

“You can’t just put it all on me! My situation awareness is horrible how do you expect me to figure out where to go! You said we needed to do this together and we’ve been walking for hours! The rest of the class has most probably figured it all out and is laughing their asses off knowing we’re still stuck here.” 

Ashton shook his head in disbelief and looked towards a small peak that allowed to see outside of the woods.

He had no idea where it was leading but there was no way he would continue to listen to your complains. 

So of course you followed him when he headed towards it without saying a thing. There was no way possible that you would sit here on your own trying to figure out something that was impossible. 

Ashton’s eyes widened in surprise when he came outside and noticed you were on the top of one of the hills. In fact it was so high you were able to see over most of the woods but still not abe to see where the lake was placed.

And even if you could see where it was there was no use going for it. You wouldn’t be able to figure it out on your own and it would be too far of a walk to go especially considering it was starting to get dark.

At any other point you most probably would have enjoyed the sunset. It was dark and orange in the horizon far away but the frown of your face stole attention instead. 

You stood completely frozen trying to take everything in at once.

Ashton was looking over the hills trying to figure out an idea but he couldn’t come up with anything.

His legs were hurting from the long walk and his head was pounding from trying to concentrate. It was frustation to his eyes every time he was left disappointed to the sight of not being at the finish line. 

You weren’t even able to hear if someone was near you. The only thing loud was the wind gushing and the locusts far in the green grass. 

You looked over your shoulder and tried to read Ashton’s face but it was no use.

“You know this is completely your fault.” 

His words were almost disbelief to your ears and you were quick to cross your arms. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? My fault? How do you always manage to blame it on me when I had absolutely nothing to do with it!” 

“Exactly Y/N! That’s the reason why it’s your fault.” He spread his arms wide to show his frustration but he wasn’t a bit intimidating towards you. 

“Because you didn’t participate in helping I had do to this on my own. One brain working against a puzzle like this is impossible and since you didn’t want to help me at all besides complaining about going the wrong direction there was no possible way we could find the place without a phone! And not to mention there’s not a shitty signal even on this heel we can’t even call for help.” 

It was a challenge that came to your face by his words and you reached down to grab your phone.

“4G will test that theory.” You spat quietly and typed fast on your phone but disappointment came to your face once you weren’t even able to turn on the data. 

Ashton was practically smirking when you quickly locked the phone and forced it back in your bag. 

You weren’t sure how to react but you just wanted to walk up in his face and yell because he was being so cocky and annoying his attitude was ready to be grilled.

“Look at me one last time and you will regret it.” You warned with a pointed finger but it only challenged him more.

“Like what? Like I’m enjoying my frustration because trust me I do.” He was being tempted by your attitude but even if you wanted to react cool it only pissed you off even more than before.

You stormed towards him after letting go of some of the stuff you were given for the telt and your bags, literally not carrying that it would get mud from the dirty grass.

“You know what you are Ashton? You’re one of the worst and most importantly a fucking snake because you can always get people to like you by your sweet innocent look and attitude.” 

“Oh and you know what you are?” He asked without removing a single bit and letting you walk straight to his face. 

Regardless of the height difference you still weren’t frightened. 

“You’re a fucking bitch Y/N and you always will be. In your head it will always be about grabbing the attention from everyone else because that’s what you do! Even if it’s not your intention you still manage to do so and it’s getting tiring and annoying!” 

“Oh so I’m a bitch now? What a nice word to use Ashton what’s the next gonna be? Slut?” You shook your head in disbelief but trying to look confronting wasn’t the best considering he was hovering over you. 

“Yes Y/N you are a bitch!” He was not having a single mine on his face it was coming straight from the heart. 

“Thank you Ashton!” You yelled and made sure to add extra pressure on his name.

“Out of all the people I could end up stranded with it had to be you out of all the people I hate the most!” 

“How lucky you are!”

“Lucky? I’d rather spent the night filled with spiders and slugs than sharing one last word with an idiot like you!” 

You pushed your nose in the air and took one step back to illustrate how serious you were.

“Fine!”

“Fucking fine, princess!” 

The nickname was enough to push you over your nerves and you turned around quickly to head towards a near rock you could sit at instead of the ground. 

Being the person to not fucking care about anything Ashton slumped down on the ground as long as he was and tightened his jaw. This couldn’t get any worse and he couldn’t see the end of this no matter what. 

You shook your head in disbelief and tried for the last time to check your phone but it was not any use. It didn’t even give you the chance to try with low battery. 

You were stuck for the rest of the night. 

- part 2 -

[anaxarmass]

Los Angeles

Who: Harry @h-stylezz and Ana

Where: Her LA home. 

Harry: the boy was used to the amount of flights he was having back and forth from the uk. At this point, the jet lag didn’t even phase him. he had carried out his usual routine of a little skin care and work on his laptop, and soon enough he was back at his home in the better weathered area of the globe. after a shower and pack of a bag, he was back out of the door again. the LA traffic had even added to the carefree journeys the male was taking today and aided him in arriving at the acquaintances within the hour. upon arrival, he slid his sunglasses to the top of his head and announced his presence with a knock at the females door.

 Ana: Ana had no idea that she would end up talking to one of her favorite singers and let alone end up flirting with him? It was all out of body feeling for her. The pair flirted like a ball in a tennis match at Wimbledon, each throwing a compliment and the other serving a blushing one back. She was living for it, hearing that he wanted to come over and hang out made her slightly giddy with excitement. Hours later when he arrived she opened the door and smiled a dazzling smile at him as she opened the door. “hola, papi”

Harry: Ana was absolutely stunning but could never have been prepared for it in person. “Sounds even better when I’m stood in front of you” he smirked, his tongue gliding across his bottom lip, a glistening look to his feature now. “You weren’t lying about being a small bean” as the words left his mouth, he gave her height a once over before opening his arms to invite her for a hug. He didn't want to assume that she would hug him, he’d basically only just met her so he was treading carefully not to cross any lines with her.

Ana: "You're too kind" she said softly looking at his now glistening bottom lip, it looked so inviting, 'Ana behave' she thought before seeing him opening up his arms for a hug. One of which she wouldn't turn down "Thank God you are a hugger!" She giggled before her smaller frame melted into his embrace.

Harry: "Of course I'm a hugger, I think I would be mad not to be" the male chuckled, wrapping his arms around the females body, pulling her into his warmth. She smelt incredible too. A pure weakness for the brunette. He kept the embrace for a few seconds before stepping back but leaving his hand on her back. "So is this the beginning of your MTV cribs tour because it sure feels like it. Or have i just come all this way for a hug?"

Ana: "Well I'm very grateful that you like hugs" she said smiling before pulling away from him as well, she usually waited until the other would pull away. "yes it is, I have the best crib, and I mean more than a hug of you're lucky"

Harry: "I need you to show me with your best Snoop Dog impersonation please" the male challenged, cocking an eyebrow at the girl. This only stayed arched with her comment finally being processed. "Hold on, more? Please elaborate"

Ana: "I'm not high so that wouldn't sound accurate" she said laughing before she looked up at him again "Just saying that if the tension is too much we might need to remedy it"

Harry: "I think it would be a funny attempt though" harry laughed, even the thought sounded hilarious to him. "Noted" the brunette responded. His eyes then scanned the room from the place he was stood and attempted to search the area for the dogs. "So where are the two dogs? I mean thats the reason I'm here right? And what's the story there?"

Ana: She thought about it for a moment and did her best "yo, yo, my hizzle welcome to my cribbzle" and said before snorting once and saying "never make me do that again. And for the dogs they are in the backyard." She said taking his hand and pulling him through the massive kitchen.

Harry: harry couldnt help but laugh at the attempt, it was great and he appreciated the attempt. "that was amazing, ill just wait until youre drunk and request it again" the male winked. as she led him through, the kitchen he looked down at his feet to make sure he wouldnt trip and on the way back up a glance was paid to her ass. fuck, she was hot. "so are they named after elvis and the dance?"

Ana: Ana couldn't stop the blush from embarrassment that washed over her features "As long as you do an impression for me." She said glancing back up at him again, she shook her head "well Elvis has always been a fave of mine, so yes and no about the name of Salsa, I got the sweet puppy home, my ex Ben, he was eating salsa and each time he said it the sweet puppy would she would perk her ears up and bark the cutest little bark ever and that just happened to be the only name that she responded to. " She said shrugging " Also I would Salsa with her and she would calm down in thunderstorms"

Harry: “Snoop Dog impression? You ever heard the just eat advert? If not the impression will be a waste” he quizzed, narrowing his eyes to read her expression and to whether she had heard of it. The boy listened to her speak and continued the walk to the backyard where he spotted the two dogs. And yes they were as adorable as expected. “Great names I must say” Harry nodded, crouching down so that he could stroke the first dog that came to him. “Hey little guy, aren’t you cute”

Ana: "No not Snoop when I already killed that one" she said nodding her head as they entered the backyard the pool water was sparkling against the sunshine and her dogs were barking for new attention "Elvis is an old man, and Salsa she's a baby" she said before laying on the grass and Salsa came bounding over to her she kissed her head and giggled at her barking "He's a friend relax baba"

Harry: “Then what impression are you wanting to hear from me?” The male began, “pick wisely because I will also murder whatever I attempt too”. Harry continued to stroke the dog and looked over at the girl as she laid on the grass and the other dog came over to her. “Ouch, friendzoned already and I haven’t even tried yet”

Ana: "I don't know something wild or random" she said shrugging "Are you hoping to be more than just a friend of mine?" She said winking at him.

Harry: The male thought, taking a seat on the grass but facing the relaxed Cuban, “I do a great Chandler bing if you’re a friends fan?.” Harry laughed and shook his head, unzipping his bag before looking back at the girl. “Well I mean it would suck to have a friend as sexy as you”

Ana: "I do love Friends" she said nodding her head her shoulder length bob bouncing. "Likewise"

Harry: “Could you BE anymore attractive?” He responded, putting on his best chandler impression before pulling his shirt up and off his body. He stuffed that into his bag and then rose to his feet. “You gonna join me for a swim then?”

Ana: She blushed and stared laughing "That was..." She said watching him taking off his shirt biting her lower lip at the way his tattoos were shining in the sunlight "um.. what were you saying again?"

Harry: “Do you want me to give you a minute?” He smirked, quoting her own statement from earlier when she’d left him speechless. Now the tables had turned and he was going to take the opportunity and run with it. Seeing that her eyes were on him still, he then proceeded with his joggers so he was just in some swimming trunks he had popped on under his joggers before he’d left his house for ease.

Ana: She bit her lip again her eyes wide and checking him out again "Just enjoying the view to be completely honest with you" she said before she stood up and took off her tee-shirt dress revealing a red and black bikini on her sunkissed skin.

Harry: It was now his turn to ‘enjoy the view’ and what a view it was. His eyes explored her body, taking in every curve that she possessed before moving his eyes back up to her eyes. In one swift movement, he scooped her up into his arms and jumped into the pool, the both of them submerged for a short while. When he returned to the surface, he shook his hair and then combed it back with his fingers.

Ana: She broke eye contact with him for a second until he wrapped his longer arms around her frame and jumped into the water with her, giggling wildly she popped her head above the water and she splashed more water at him.

Harry: Feeling the droplets of water hit him, he gasped and returned the favour. The male then moved closer, splashing her more the closer he got with a lot of laughter following each splash.

Ana: She hadn't felt this young or laughed this hard in a long while, he was playful, for having such a deep voice. Something she wasn't used to, "Okay, okay, my side hurts from laughing so much"

Harry: “Oh yeah? She’s giving up already. I think I won that” Harry smirked, bobbing up and down in the water. He used his fingers once again to comb his hair back as a few strands were dangling. “Just my ploy to get you in a bikini really wasn’t it”

Ana: She brushed some of his hair out of his eyes and she said "I didn't think it was a fair fight" she said raising one eyebrow "I'm always ready to be in a bikini"

Harry: As she brushed his hair away, he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. “What was unfair about it?” He asked, a smirk toying at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll remember that”

Ana: She grinned and felt goosebumps along her skin as he wrapped his arms around her waist "I'm sure you will"

Harry: His eyes looked over her features from her eyes down to her lips and back to her eyes again. “I look pretty hot in a bikini too, I must admit” the male joked, lifting her body slightly.

Ana: "Oh I have no doubt about that" she said before saying "I'm glad I met you" she said as he lifted her body "how do you feel?"

Harry: “I’m glad I met you too, you’re way more fun than I imagined. I hope you don’t take that the wrong way” Harry chuckled, shaking his head at himself. “That wasn’t meant to be a back handed compliment”

Ana: "Did you think I'd be serious, because I dated Batman?" She said raising an eyebrow "I'm sure it wasn't"

Harry: “You seem like a very mature individual, so mature that things like this just aren’t your cup of tea” he explained, slowly making his way over to the pool edge with her still in his arms. Once he reached it, he let his arms move away from her waist and instead cross over on the poolside.

Ana: "I didn't know I gave off that impression" She said once her back was against the wall of the pool she got up and sat on the wall "having fun?"

Harry: “Yeah but I don’t know you that we’ll do I?” He admitted, now looking up at her. “Yeah, are you? Also for once how does it feel to be the tall one?”

Ana: "You don't, not yet anyway" she said brushing her hair out of her face and looking down at him "it's a delicious feeling yes"

Harry: “Delicious feeling?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows. “Why delicious?”

Ana: "I don't feel empowered in a way like this and it's a delicious and delightful feeling"

Harry: “You don’t feel empowered by being taller?” He queried, moving across to stand directly in front of her body but still shorter than her.

Ana: "No I meant that my height usually doesn't make me feel empowered, as I would feel say commanding a room with my voice or acting ability, sending an email that was causing me anxiety, standing up for someone or something, makes me feel empowered, but my height rarely does."

Harry: “You feeling empowered right now?” He asked. It made sense what she was saying. The deeper things would make you feel more empowered that a genetic you can’t change.

Ana: "Just a little bit yes" she said looking into his green eyes "what makes you feel empowered?"

Harry: “Being able to control the audience with my hand, mostly just being on stage” he smiled, resting his chin on her thigh. “Do you like power?”

Ana: She grinned at him "I really ought to see you perform. " She said playing with his shaggy hair "I don't like power, I've seen what the wrong sort of people can do with power. But I do like being empowered."

 Harry: “Next time I’m playing, you should come along” he nodded, closing his eyes as she played with his hair. He loved the feeling of anyone playing with his air, it was so relaxing. “I can’t fault you for that. What’s the most empowering moment you’ve ever experienced?”

Ana: "Will you serenade me to Adore You?" She said looking at his face  and how relaxed he was with her. "Getting my first film in America"

Harry: “That means you’ll have to wear something bright so I can spot you or even a sign will do” he smirked, opening his eyes to look back up at her again. The thought that ran through his head now was singing ‘I get so lost inside your eyes’ to her, which was so true. “What was your first film?” He asked, planting his arms on either side of her against the pool side.

Ana: "I was thinking you might have me on stage" she said pouting slightly as she drew lazy shapes along his shoulders as the water from the pool dripped there. "it was called Hand Of Stone, I play the wife of a famous boxer, the role needed a Spanish and English speaking woman and they wanted some unknown, since I mainly did films and tv in Cuba or Spain, getting an international job like that was a blessing, plus the clothes were phenomenal"

Harry: “You really are looking for death threats yeah?” He chuckled. It was true, there were pockets in his following full of very toxic and crazy individuals that he didn’t want to be accountable for. It had been seen in his previous relationships. “Oh really? That’s so good then. Did you enjoy filming it? You still got some of the clothes? I can’t say I’ve ever watched it, maybe we should have a movie night sometime for it”

Ana: "After all the shit I received being with a much older man, I'm used to it and the potential rumors of being close to Evans when we filmed Knives Out, I've received it all" she said shrugging like it was a normal thing, because it was to her. "I stole this beautiful pink bathing suit, and I think one of the  medals off the wall, I'm hoping it was a fake. We can do that for sure. As for enjoying it? I was terrified they were going to be like " Get Selma or some other Spanish actress"

Harry: “Yeah? Then consider it done. You’re coming on for adore you” he nodded. The concern was there but if she was more than ready to experience it on stage with the backlash then he was going to continue being that people pleaser. “Yeah? I feel like you should reenact a scene with the bathing suit. Show me the scene first though so I can judge the performance. Selma is a goddess. But seems like you’ve done a good job of it because look at you now Miss Blade Runner.”

Ana: "Perfect!" She said laughing and clapping her hands "it's a sex scene, so..." She said blushing lightly looking down at him "I love Selma, Selena, all the amazing Hispanic or Latino actresses that paved the way for me to even have a voice,let alone a seat at the table. Miss  Blade Runner" she said raising an eyebrow  "oh,did you enjoy that film?"

Harry: “So... you need someone to play your costar?” He smirked, offering her a wink to add to his playfulness. Although he wouldn’t say no. “Oh yeah for sure. All very very talented women. Yeah Blade Runner is the film I first spotted you in and since then you’ve been in my top 10” Harry joked.

Ana: "I'd be honored to have you as a love interest in a film" she said smiling brightly. "yes I am not worthy of being in their shadow. Which look in Blade Runner of mine was your favorite? Top ten? Where do I rank now that you have met me?"

Harry: “Wouldn’t shy that far from the truth in real life would it?” The brunette toyed with her, poking her waist as he spoke. “It’s not necessarily the outfit but the hair when you have the all black outfit on that’s cut at the shoulders. You’re still under megan fox I’m afraid”

Ana: "Not yet anyway" she said coyly "Oh my hair is what drew you to me? Makes sense. Still? damnit how can I get on top?" She said pretending to think of ways.

Harry: With a quick gasp of breath, he placed his palm on his chest and mimicked the best painful expression he could followed by the words “You don’t fancy me?.” The male then moved beside her to drag himself out of the pool and sit beside her with his legs dangling in the water. “In that scene yeah, stunning. Girls with their hair up is a big weakness of mine. As much of a weakness as the word papi. I can’t give you all the answers, you’ll have to try”

Ana: She laughed at his fake pain before she brushed a wet strand out of her face and then cupping his jaw leaning in slightly "Am I the first to call you papi?"

Harry: “You are indeed” he nodded, letting his teeth pull in his bottom lip as she cupped his jaw. “Well at least the only girl it’s sounded good on”

Ana: She glanced at his lips and then his eyes again and decided to go for it, she leaning further tilting her head up she caught his lips in hers and she ran her hand throughout his hair.

Harry: As she moved in, he let his hand move to her waist and let himself reciprocate the kiss. He parted his lips ever so slightly but pulled at her body as to showcase his desire for more.

Ana: She let a light moan escape her slightly parted lips as he pulled her closer, the younger male knew what he was doing and it made Ana's heart race slightly faster.

Harry: All the encouragement he needed right now was in that very moan that left her mouth. His hands grazed her body as if they possessed a mind of their own, now urgently seeking an intense moment with the brunette. Her lips were like heroin and he was craving.

Ana: She felt his hands roaming her body, causing new goosebumps to raise along her skin both exposed and not. She slid her tongue along his and tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. She could feel time standing still and she pulled away for a moment to catch her breath.

 Harry: As she pulled back, he slowly let his eyes open and as they did, lock on her lips for a split second before meeting her eyes. “You’re so fucking hot”

Ana: She chuckled before she said "So are you, papi"

Harry: “You need to stop with that because you’re gonna start something you can’t finish” he warned, licking his bottom lip as he looked over her features, palm sliding down her thigh.

Ana: "How long are you in town?" She said taking his other hand in hers and kissing his knuckles

Harry: “I’m here for a couple weeks now, sorry” the Brit apologised, acting as though he was making her life difficult with being around and available. He then span so that his legs outstretched behind the girl and he was now fully facing her without having to turn his head to the side. “Why do you ask?”

Ana: "Why are you saying sorry?" She said looking in his eyes, her brows furrowed in confusion. "I just didn't want to be taking all your time if you had other plans while you're here. "

Harry: “I was joking” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I do have plans tomorrow but I’m free for today” he nodded, a smile forming after his comment. Her voice, her eyes, her wet hair, she was just unreal.

Ana: "Did you want to stay the night?" She said glancing into his emerald eyes, the way his curls framed his face she couldn't believe his jawline was that chiseled in person.

Harry: “It’s up to you, will you have clothes I can borrow tomorrow?” He smirked, “possibly that pink bodysuit?.” He then leant back so he was almost laying and propped himself up on his elbows.

Ana: "I thought you had some in your backpack?" She said tracing his abs

Harry: “I do don’t worry, I won’t stretch out your outfits” Harry chuckled, pulling out the towel from his bag to ruffle his hair with a dry it a little before dabbing himself down. “If you want me to stay then I will”

Ana: "Yeah that suit is like a extra, extra small" she said thinking of how tall he was compared to her "I hope I don't sound like I'm being too forward"

Harry: The male shrugged and tried to hide the playful smirk on his lips, “Yeah a size too small for me.” Once he was done, he folded the towel and laid it beside the bag to avoid the damp towel wetting his clothes. “Who said that’s a bad thing?”

 Ana: "Just a touch you small" she said shaking her head "I have a laundry room, don't worry about that" she said pointing to his backpack and his wet towel "So is this how you expected it to be?"

Harry: “Don’t expect you to do my washing” he chuckled. “It really is not at all. Did you expect this?”

Ana: "Yeah? I didn't expect I'd" she said before switching to a British accent "snog you"

Harry: “Yeah I didn’t expect you to lay it on me first either” he laughed. His phone then started vibrating causing Harry to look through his bag for it to spot the cockblock of a text. “You’re joking. I forgot I had a meal with my friend tonight, he’s waiting for me right now” Harry announced, taking out his clothes that he had packed to change into and looked at Ana. “We’re gonna have to raincheck this sleepover... mind closing your eyes?” He laughed as he was now stood and ready to take off his swim shorts.

Ana: "I thought you would to be honest" she said upon hearing his phone vibrate. "I plan on it being spectacular, I have a bathroom you can change in, so you aren't changing in broad daylight"

Harry: “I was planning on it but you beat me to it” he admitted. The boy nodded, slinging the bag over his shoulder and holding his hand out for the girl. “Do you mind doing the honours and showing me it?”

Ana: "Of course mi casa es su casa" she said taking his hand and squeezing it heading to her bathroom "Here you go" she said opening the door.

Harry: The male followed after the petite female. “Thank you” he smiled, tugging her body back against his so he could lean down and capture her lips with his.

Ana: She stood on her tiptoes and felt his arm around her again . She protested as he pulled away "How much do you care about this friend you have dinner with?" She said hoping he'd stay.

Harry: “I can’t stand him up” he stated, although his words didn’t seem too convincing in all honesty. He narrowed his eyes at her and smirked. “You’re trouble”

 Ana: "Worth a shot" she said popping the t at the end of the word. "the best kind"

Harry: “Jeff with dislike you before he even meets you” he laughed, embracing her into a hug. “Then he’ll meet you and understand exactly why” the male chuckled.

Ana: "I mean most people are intimidated by me before they know me" she said shrugging "okay get changed, you don't want your friend to hate me before he knows me"

Harry: And with that, he drew himself away and shut the door behind him. It didn’t take him long to get changed so before he knew it, he was back out of the bathroom again. “Right so when am I seeing you next?”

Ana: "Depends when do you have time free, papi?" She said sitting on the bar stool.

Harry: “Keep saying that and I’ll cancel plans and be free tonight” he smirked, adjusting his jumper slightly. “Tomorrow?”

 Ana: "Hm well I don't wanna keep you away from your friend. I'm not a monster. " She said before fixing his collar "Perfect"

Harry: “Okay okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then” he smiled, leaning in to give her one last kiss before heading towards the door.

Ana: She grinned into the kiss "adios, Harry" she said softly as he left to go to the door.

[25yearsofcrying]

Julie and the Phantoms

Summary: Trying my own hand at JATP novelization, using the show rather than the novel or the scripts. I’m sure it’s been done before but there’s never enough Julie and the Phantoms, right? If nothing else, I have an excuse to rewatch every single scene of the show all over again.

CHAPTER 06: we’re still rising

Alex

Death is very different from what I’d have imagined. For one, it’s definitely not peaceful. In the past couple of hours, I’ve had too much drama and excitement for a lifetime or two. It’s a relief to get to grab my drumsticks and discover that I still have the use of them.

Twenty five years. Twenty five years and fortunately, our instruments are still at the studio, in good shape. I don’t know whether Julie’s mother kept them that way or whether they’d been left forgotten and miraculously survived a quarter of a century. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that despite it all, we still sound fine. For a trio of dead guys. Even I forget just how much has changed when the familiar sound of Luke’s guitar and Reggie’s bass and my own drums envelops me like a warm embrace.

Like all good things, it doesn’t last long.

“Guys! Guys! Stop!” Julie, our new not-exactly-a-friend storms in, shouting frantically. “Enough. The whole neighborhood can hear you!” She looks less than pleased, especially when we only reluctantly put down our instruments. She can’t understand how much we needed to feel this good. “I thought I told you to leave.”

“Wait!” Luke pauses, staring at her. “People can hear us play?”

“Yes! Including my Dad and my brother!”

Julie is missing the point. On the other hand, my eyes widen. I can hear the dogs howling in the distance. “Wait, wait, wait,” I say, getting up from behind the drums. This is a lot to process. “So only you can see us but everyone can hear us? I mean,” I turn to my bandmates, “what kind of ghosts are we?” My shock and frustration isn’t unreasonable. There are many questions and too few answers.

“Who cares, man?” Luke says. He is practically bouncing. “People can hear us play!”

Reggie knocks his fist against Luke’s. “We might be dead, but our music isn’t.” He is beaming.

Before I can protest that their priorities are just a little out of whack, the door to the studio opens again. It never used to be this busy while we were alive. This time, it’s Julie’s father.

“Dad!” she protests when he walks in.

“Just making sure you’re okay,” he says. Not unkindly. As far as father’s go, this one seems okay. He seems genuine in his concern for Julie and not in a nagging way.

“Yeah,” Julie says. “Just had to turn off the CD player.” She is very good at lying, this girl. I wonder how often she’s had to make up a story to persuade everyone that she’s indeed fine.

That’s when Julie’s father notices our instruments. Somehow, it shocks me that he can see them, even though we’ve had to assemble them from where they’d been stored all that time. It feels like they should be invisible, like we are to him. Obviously, they are not. “Wait, is this the junk that was in the loft?”

“Junk?” Luke repeats in disbelief, offended. Julie’s father loses points with me instantly, too.

“Some of this stuff is in pretty good shape,” he says admiringly and touches his fingers to my drums. “Hey, maybe we can make a couple of bucks.”

“What?” I gasp. “Yo, stop touching my drums.” I know he can’t hear me, I’m not sure if I’d be so blunt if he could, but the way he casually touches my drums makes me viscerally uncomfortable. It’s strange how much I can still feel despite not having a corporeal body. I’d have thought being a ghost would have resolved all the uncomfortable feelings in my chest. “Tell him to stop touching my drums!” I tell Julie when addressing her father directly does, predictably, nothing.

Although, his next words warm me up a little. "I liked the song you had on."

They don't warm me up quite as much as they warm up Reggie, who beams. "Sweet! We're Sunset Curve! Tell your friends!" Honestly, with Reggie it's hard to tell whether it's the force of habit or whether he has yet to notice that Julie's Dad can't see or hear us - unless we are playing, that is. Luke looks pleased, too, but Luke's life and identity revolve around the music we make and so it's no shock to anyone that this compliment would butter him up.

"It's just an old CD I found," Julie says. I guess she's not exactly lying. It's strange to think that not just our instruments, but our CD too, have been lying around in wait for twenty five years. Waiting for us. I wonder how many more of our things are stored here. And how much of it will Julie's father want to sell. I wander out from behind the drums, putting my non-corporeal body between my drum set and the man. He seems kind and well-intentioned, I'll give him that much, but he definitely wants to turn my drums into dollars. At least I assume that's what people still pay with these days.

"Well, still, it's nice that you're listening to music again," he is saying. "Out here you can play whatever you want, whenever you want." He spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture and his hands go straight through me and Reggie. This is the second time something like that happened to me tonight and I'm still not used to it. It's not a pleasant feeling. I jump back.

Reggie, meanwhile, rubs his chest where the man's hand has poked through, but he says: "Oh! That's nice!" I'm assuming he's referring to the words and not the limbs passing through his body, but with Reggie, it's practically impossible to say what's going on in his head. I am still not sure he knows Julie's Dad isn't speaking to us.

Julie snaps at him: "Stay out of this!"

I wonder whether she, too, has failed to realize that her Dad can see only half of the picture here. His face crumbles. "I... I'm sorry, honey. I didn't..." I almost feel bad for him.

"Oh, no, not you!" Julie hurries to say. She seems exasperated at this point, but it's clear she doesn't want to hurt her Dad. "You know what... Give me a minute."

Although hesitant, her Dad nods. "We are going to figure out this music program thing," he says kindly. It reminds me of the times when my parents and I were still able to talk normally, before things got awkward and every interaction was marked with their disappointment and worry.

"Thanks Dad," Julie tells him before closing the studio door behind him and turning to the three of us.

Luke grins and, adjusting the strap of his guitar, bouncing a little, says proudly: "He likes our song." Reggie is nodding along, pleased.

I shake my head. "Oh yeah. He doesn't count. He's a dad." It's clear to me that he would say something complimentary about any music Julie was playing in here. He just wanted her to be happy, which was honestly sweet. It just didn't count as much of an unbiased review.

"Why can't you guys just be normal ghosts?" Julie says, glaring at us in fury. She makes a frustrated gesture with her arms. "Hang out at an old mansion! I hear Pasadena is nice. Ugh!"

She storms away.

We have not made a good impression on her, not the first time and not now. I don't think she can actually kick us out, probably, but I fear our cohabitation might be a little tense. She could mess with our things, like my drums... Sarcastically, I say: "I think she's warming up to us."

"Yeah, I've always wanted to go to Pasadena," Reggie says, sincere.

[acoolguyscoollife]

Chapter 2: Irradiated Bananas

“Bullshit.” The word came quickly and unanimously from all three of us. Tabitha was clearly not expecting this response, and her expression quickly turned to a frown. She looked behind her, at the computer, then back at us. A moment or so passed with a silence so uncomfortable that I felt the urge to say anything to make it end. Thankfully I was stopped from saying something hasty and dumb by Tabitha finally responding.

“You don’t believe me? Fine, get on the tables then.” She gestured to the tables that had come out of the ground, and we got onto them, seeing no alternative. I barely managed to fit inside without taking off my sunglasses and almost considered doing it for an easier experience, but didn’t. I wasn’t giving up looking cool no matter what. Very quickly I felt a whooshing feeling, for want of a better descriptor, and I wasn’t where I had been anymore. And it surprised me, because for all intents and purposes, I felt like I had actually moved. So obviously, I began testing the limits of the machine. I burst into a series of awesome, indescribable karate moves, the likes of which have never been seen and would make men weep and woman lust for my… okay maybe I’m getting carried away. The point was, I tried everything I could to break the machine as soon as she connected me to it. When I had finally given up, a glance upwards after I had flopped to the floor in tiredness revealed the other three to be staring at me.

“Should I even ask?” Tabitha said, staring at me with an expression that just screamed tired mother.

“Tryna break yo’ shit, fool.” I replied, before passing out for a moment. When I came to, I hadn’t moved at all, and nothing had changed. I did say it had only been for a moment. “I don’t get it!” I said as I did a cool-ass backflip type thing. Which is to say, I rolled backwards, got stuck slightly, fell onto my side and sheepishly stood up. “So, you weren’t joking? We’re really in some kind of life-replicating simulation?”

“Of course I wasn’t joking!” Tabitha replied, indignantly. “This technology is next level. If it hadn’t been for my mentor, this tech wouldn’t have existed. I-” Tabitha continued to talk, but my mind already began to wander. The technical aspects never mattered to me, it was more the potential of what could be done with technology like this. I could live on an island for the rest of my life. I could spend my life in a video game! This possibility was-

Tabitha

Forgive me, but I feel it necessary to hijack the narrative here for a moment. As the subheader says, I’m Tabitha, the girl who was talking in the story a second ago. Honestly if you somehow didn’t manage to catch onto that, I can’t imagine this bit of the story entertaining you much. However, if you’re interested in spatial-temporal mechanics, then I can guarantee that you’ll be very happy with this-

Cool Guy

BOOOOOOORING!

 Look, there’s some important stuff, and there’s some unimportant stuff. The important stuff is the stuff I’ll end up being re-told in the near future, and the rest of it can just go on Tabitha’s blog or something. The point is, I daydreamed for like half an hour as Tabitha went into an unnecessarily large amount of detail on stuff that I feel like neither of the other two even remember. To avoid this chapter just being nothing but people talking, I’m going to move the “plot” forward slightly by not including the part where everyone stands around aimlessly as the computer started up, and just stick to what happened after.

 “Okay, so do you know the game Apocalypse VII?” Tabitha asked us, half-rhetorically. Part of my whole aesthetic had come from the fictional greaser gang that was in the series, the Cellar Serpents. They wore leather jackets and had a no-nonsense attitude, so obviously I wanted to be exactly like them. Seth, on the other hand, was more of a hero-martyr type kind of guy, always taking the nice path no matter how boring it got. One of the best things about the Apocalypse series was how varied the choices were. You could work for the enemies who originally hated your guts, or you can kill them all. Or maybe convince everyone to work together so nobody dies. Or, if you felt like it, you could just go off and kill some zombies. I was aware that Amy had played it as well, but her methods of playing games like that where you have free choices was… odd, to say the least. The last time I’d seen her playing, she’d created a brothel of every character you can romance in the game. The weird part was how tender she had been in the creation of it, making sure all the characters were well-fed and watered.

“Of all people, why are you asking about video games? You play farming simulators and tycoons.” Seth remarked, and I had to hide my personal feeling of being attacked. Micromanagement Tycoon was a game I had spent a LOT of time on back in the day.

“Well, it just so happens that this machine, given a game’s world, can recreate it on a much more realistic level.” Tabitha pushed her glasses up the crook of her nose as she said this, as Seth gasped audibly in excitement.

“Ymeanwecngointopoclypsevn?” Seth said without a breath in between words. It took me a moment to process his question as being you mean we can go into Apocalypse VII? Tabitha nodded, and it was if a human firework had been lit next to me. Seth literally exploded.

Seth

No I didn’t!

Cool Guy

Seth metaphorically exploded. All I could do was watch as he bounced around, occasionally glancing over to Amy and Tabitha, who returned my uncomfortable expression.

“Are you done?” I asked as he finally began to slow down. He nodded, but his eyes still shone like an excited dog’s eyes. Tabitha had turned away, tapping away at a keyboard she had magically materialised out of nowhere. I would have marvelled at the technology more, but instead I tried doing it myself. I wasn’t sure which hand gestures caused things to materialise, so I found myself doing nothing but waving my hands around aimlessly as I tried to make something happen. I gestured up, down, and all around, doing a strange dance in a vague attempt at being a super-cool hackerman.

“CG, what the hell are you doing?” Tabitha asked, and I looked up to see that I was once again being watched by everyone.

“I wanted to make a keyboard appear.” I replied simply, before turning back to my efforts. Maybe it was the hand signs? I tried devil horns, holding my hands like there was an invisible guitar, and the shocker, but nothing worked.

“You don’t have admin privileges.” Tabitha said, her head in her hands, and I finally stopped, sidling over to Amy as Tabitha turned back to whatever she was doing.

“So, what are you gonna do first?” I asked, half-whispered. The less Tabitha knew about what we were going to do in there, the better.

“Well, first off, I’m finding Franklin and bringing him everywhere with me. I don’t know how carrying stuff works in this game and the last thing I want is to have to lug guns everywhere.” She replied, reminding me about the half-robotic companion you could get in the game. “Then, I’m gonna go to the Whiteguard and sign up. I’m gonna nuke everything I can.” I hadn’t even considered the possibility of nuking things, but the prospect excited me. I could go full Cellar Serpent, complete with a badass hairdo and shades. Well, I already had the shades, but that only added to the excitement. “You?” She asked, turning to me. I didn’t just wanna seem like I was copying her ideas, so I frantically thought of something to say that would be even MORE awesome, and totally befitting of someone like me.

“I’m going to… try the cuisine of the apocalypse.” I finally said. Balls, that wasn’t a very good excuse. Her eyebrow raised, but I quickly changed the subject. “Won’t the nukes break the simulation, anyway?” I asked, and Amy shook her head.

“Weren’t you listening to Tabitha? This stuff is a LOT deeper than your basic simulation. It’s powered by…” I found my mind wandering again as Amy spoke, this time about what the apocalypse’s food would taste like. Probably regular meat, but irradiated. Wait, don’t bananas have a minor amount of radiation? I wonder if radiation tastes like bananas.

Amy

Dude, you have ADHD.

Cool Guy

Look, I can’t help it if everyone around me is boring. And I still want to know whether bananas taste like radiation, or if radiation tastes like bananas.

 But anyway, Amy went on to most likely repeat what Tabitha had said that I had now conveniently missed twice, and would most likely not hear a third time until I had learnt the hard way exactly why there was such a specific difference. But hey, doing things like this has worked for me in the past. Why wouldn’t it keep working in a trans-dimensional situation?

“Voila!” Tabitha cried suddenly, bringing me out of a rousing thought-train about bananas and radioactive spiders, and I glanced over. Slowly but surely, the horizon, which had been dark with some faintly-glowing stereotypical computer lights, was now brightening. Well, I say brightening, but the image that was beginning to come in was more… earthy and dull than that. The price to pay for your games becoming owned by a triple-A company, but hey, at least I didn’t have to wait too long between instalments, and I’ve played games with worse stories.

“Holy shit, it’s happening.” I said, not able to comprehend much else. I had never played a game in VR before, not even with a flimsy plastic piece of cardboard that strapped my phone to my face in eye-burning closeness. This was next level, and then some. I could smell what the wasteland smelt like. I could hear what it sounded like, feel what the wind rushing through the landscape felt like. I could even taste the earthiness of the land… since the four of us ended up suspended in mid-air, causing us to all fall a few feet downwards. I wasn’t sure whether anyone else had landed flat on their face like I had-

Tabitha

No, we pretty much all landed on our feet.

Cool Guy

-but I quickly recovered, pushing myself back up in one of those aforementioned awesome gestures. Looking over at the other three, I could see that our clothes hadn’t changed at all, but thankfully, were all outfits that we could have probably grabbed somewhere in the game anyway. Hell, you could dress up like a psycho clown and hunt for giant moths, I was pretty sure that some basic pre-nuke clothing wouldn’t turn many heads. One thing that was quickly noticeable, however, is that while the videogame characters could easily walk around in a leather jacket all day, it was insanely hot in the wasteland. I took off my signature jacket, sighing as I could feel my overall coolness rating drop by a few hundred percent, and tied it around my waist, which pretty much dropped my coolness to zero percent. Everyone else, however, seemed to be content to stay in the outfits they had been in, not seeming to care about the weather at all. Even Tabitha, in her lab coat, was barely registering the heat, instead running around the environment with a handheld device, looking excited every time it went ping at something. And ping it went, over and over. Ping ping ping, as she ran around the area we had landed in, scanning rocks and sand and little patches of shrubbery. Eventually she reached us again, and the device went pong. She frowned and shook it next to her ear, and the rattling from inside was audible even over the wind.

“What’s wrong with it?” Seth asked, and she looked up at us.

“It’s more like what’s wrong with us. We’re not nearly as safe as I had hoped we would be.” She replied, taking out another device. For a moment I thought she was going to do another weird technical thing, but all she did was take a stylus out and write a few notes down. Right, not everything had to be super futuristic.

“And that means?” Amy asked, trailing off her words in that way of asking the other person to continue speaking. Tabitha was quiet for a moment, before looking up at me and Seth specifically.

“Try not to die.” She finished, turning away and looking over the horizon. Immediately, Seth and I looked at each other, smiles growing as we quickly knew what we were going to reply with.

“Are you saying that if you die in the game…” I began, and Seth was quick to finish as I saw Tabitha visibly bristle at the beginning of the sentence.

“…you die in real life?” Seth finished, barely able to contain his laughter long enough to finish the sentence. Tabitha turned back to us as if she was going to start yelling at us, but seemed to think better of it as she sighed, turning away again.

“Yes.” Her words dripped with irritation, but the serious nature of what she was saying still reached us. Luckily, I knew I was too cool to die. That, and I’d played this game enough times to know where to stay away from. Before either of us could say anything else, Tabitha spoke up again. “Let’s head that way. I’m picking up large amounts of people converging over there.” She put away the retro-looking device with a long antenna (you know, the kind of one you need to push down before putting it away) that I hadn’t seen her take out, and began to walk. Everyone else started following her, except for me. The sense of smell that this world had hit me with was making me very aware of a specific kind of smell. One of ripe fruit. I grinned, and yelled out to the rest of them as I rushed forward.

“It smells like bananas!”

[directorscutandsomeotherstuff]

Somewhere In Time (for real, this time.)

(So, a few months ago, I decided to write a Director’s Cut on a Phantom of the Opera fanfic called Somewhere in Time, about a girl who’s totally in love with the Phantom. I then decided to completely go off the rails and just spend a bunch of paragraphs railing on how dumb the Phantom was, as a character. That was fun, but now it’s time to actually do it, for real. I mean, there’s not any overriding reason why, but heck, it’s my blog, so why not?)

(For those of you who were privileged enough to not be teenagers during the height of the musical’s popularity, Phantom of the Opera is an Andrew Lloyd Webber piece. Originally based on a book in which a budding soprano is kidnapped by a terrible skull-faced monstrosity whose hobbies included ligature strangulation and hellish dungeon construction, Webber decided to make a few key changes. Said changes included turning the skull-faced monstrosity into a hot guy with a bit of a face scar, and to also turn him into a thinly veiled metaphor for sex in the process. As you can imagine, he’s super popular among horny teenage girls.)

(I’m gonna stop describing it, now, or I’m just gonna do a repeat performance of the last DC. Let’s go to the fic.)

(Among his legion of fans, we have PhantomsPandora, who decided to write a story in which a teen-aged writer and poetry enthusiast is suffering from depression, brought on by a maniacal infatuation with a character that doesn’t exist. Let me just say, I’m glad this girl’s probably somewhere in her late-twenties, by now. Tearing into somebody’s complex sexual power fantasy isn’t as fun, when they’re currently having it. All right, enough chatter.)

Christine sighed softly to herself. There was nothing left, was there? (Nope. Turns out there was... sorry.) She was dying, she felt. Of a broken heart, by a man who didn't even know her. Just another night in her room, locked away from her parents, long nights writing into her journal thinking morbidly. (She had been glad her parents had gotten her a journal thinking morbidly for her birthday, last week. She couldn’t imagine she’d have survived this ordeal by just writing into a normal journal.) She sat in front of her mirror and turned up her CD player, paying no mind to anyone else who might care. (Her despair was stronger than noise violation ordinances.) Erik was singing to her again, her beloved. There was something in the way he sung that called to her, and drew her there. The world begun to ebb away, as she closed her eyes, tears falling to her dark green carpet. (She had reason to cry; that carpet was ugly as sin, and did nothing to match her salmon pink walls and neon orange trim.) She sat Indian style, her dark-blonde hair falling around her face. Her parents never should have allowed her friends to take her to that performance a year ago, with the actors. (They should have sent her to that performance with the tax accountants, or the one with the meter maids.) It became all too much real to her, and she remembered that night, scrambling backstage, only to find an actor without make up. No Erik at all, just a man who was more than happy to hug her and get a picture, even though she was still crying. She knew that in her heart, he existed. He was there in her dreams, whether they were ones of simply singing, or a lover's embrace. His face did not bother her, with its rough textures; his eyes said that he was full of love and longing for her. (Also murderous intent. Lots of murderous intent.) And it was in his home that they loved, for all time. Only the cruel beep of the alarm clock reminded her that she had a life outside of the phantom. She sighed, trying not to sob again, trying to find energy somewhere. (Unfortunately, she had no doubt scrounged up the last E-tank from under her bed.) She wished she were dead, for this torture was too much to bear. To be without him in the dream world in which he existed, was too horrible. Every night of his singing to her, every night of him touching her, so real. (There was going to be a ribald comment, here, but I’m better than that. Also, she’s underage, and that’s gross.) To bounce back to earth.what a cruel existence. She had a hard life, Christine. Kept back from most things that would have really allowed her to grow up, by her family, and by her most sorrowful past. (You would think, ironically, that growing up during the Kosovo Wars would have forced her to grow up quickly. Having lost her brother and boyfriend to air strikes... oh, who are we kidding? Christine had no past worth mentioning.) She doubted her sanity, almost. She would lapse in to long periods of daydreaming of when she could be away from this world. Someday soon, she thought. Of my own making. (A homemade cake. From scratch. Chocolate.) Her body was weakening from its loss of food, her eyes were becoming darker and darker with the loss of sleep (as the Sharingan began to manifest), and everything about her was breaking down. Yet it didn't matter to her. She would test him. Surely, he would notice, if she thought he was real. In dreams, he noticed everything new about her. (Methinks this Erik fellow’s looking a bit too closely at an underage girl. Has anyone told Christine’s dad about this?) Maybe this time, he would see the condition that she was in. No one else so far had taken the trouble. Friends hadn't called or visited in days, and it no longer mattered to her as much as it had before. Now she could go back to her room after long hours of acting like she was just tired, but happy, to others, then she would writing in her journal and then crying herself to sleep. At times, she was proud that no one could tell, and at others, deeply hurt. Shouldn't someone be able to notice, other than the one who couldn't really help her? (I mean, at this point, the guidance counselor would surely “writing” something in her notebook about the sudden weight loss and the darkening eyes.) Her hand stilled at the page and instead she decided that she would try and sing along with Erik, smiling softly. The actor who played him was superb, but it was not really Erik. Erik had such a powerful voice, dark and sensual, and at times so soft that it felt like the voice was wrapping itself around her. (Yeah. Clearly, she hadn’t watched the movie. That’s not Gerard Butler, at all.) So now, she sung as the phantom commanded, higher, and higher, until she felt dizzy and had to stop.

(”She’s singing again,” said Christine’s mom.

(”Yes, dear,” said Christine’s dad, with a sigh. “I can hear her. The whole neighborhood can hear her.”

(”Should we do something about it?”

(”We’re parents in a fanfiction, honey. We’re not supposed to be competent.”

(Christine’s mom could only shrug. “Fair enough. You wanna go over to the guest bedroom, where it’s quieter?”

(”God, yes. At least, somebody around here should be getting laid.”) The tremors that came didn't bother her as they had before, she noticed. They almost stole her breath away, but she calmed herself long enough to blow out the candle at her side, aiding her in her writing that she was doing before. She would write in the dark quite often, and play classical music, sitting long after her legs began to cramp, neglecting other needs, such as food (and pooping. It was like sitting with a bag of charcoal briquettes in her, most nights). It no longer mattered, her hands flew from page to page in a blind passion, dark stories flying from her fingers onto the notebook paper. But now she just wanted to look at her reflection in the mirror next to her, until she could no longer feel this world, but feel a blurred daydream. (She saw nothing, for it was pitch black.) She warmed at that, and it had been so long since her body had warmed at the thought of something, even her heart felt warm. The daydream was beautiful, elaborate.until it suddenly seemed too real. "Christine." A voice softly whispered, a male voice so soft that no one could notice.

(A few minutes later, it spoke up again, this time more loudly. “Christine! Yo! I’m over here, girl!”)

She looked up from her spot, to notice a man standing in front of her, beginning to crouch to her level. His cloak folded behind him, his hands finding hers, she could barely hold back the tears in her eyes, noticing that the ones dropped on her fingers, were not of her own tears. (No, these tears were not formed of her own tears, but instead they were formed of... I dunno, a combination of pea soup and dollar store aftershave.)

"My love.I've waited a life time.it seemed so long without you." (”I hope you’re okay with me being an old man, now. I mean, I was an adult in the 1900′s, so... hope you like your men wrinkly!”)

She shuddered, the tremors in her chest becoming stronger, more powerful, and she had to strain to whisper, falling into his arms. It was her Erik, but no longer with his mask, or his deformed face. He had a face of an angel now, (specifically, that kid Angel from math class that she always had the hots for, but could never really gather the courage to talk to.) his eyes were the same golden beautiful color, and his beautiful black hair slicked back and shining in the (snuffed-out) candlelight of Christine's room. "Oh.Erik.You didn't leave me! You love me!" She clutched on to him, pulling his face down to hers and kissing him.

"I've loved you before, Christine. I can't help but love you as I do. We're one in soul and in mind. How can I forget my little angel?" His arms were warm and welcoming, as was his hot breath on her neck, holding her tightly to him. His soft cologne was soothing, alluring her.

"Is this real? Or am I dreaming.Erik.you're so beautiful."

(”Oh, Angel-I mean Erik! Erik. I’m in love with an elusive fictional character and absolutely nobody else. Now, shut up and neck me!”) She sighed, growing weaker and weaker in that embrace, the pains in her chest growing. As intense as they were, they were nothing compared to the soaring of her soul.

"Where I've waited for you, I no longer look as I did then. I came with that face in your dreams, speaking to you, singing with you to make you remember. Yes, those dreams were real. I would try anything within my power to have you with me once more. (”I would even try Zumba, even though that looks ridiculous.”) I remember our past, the man that I once was, the pain you caused when you left me that time, (”and the people I’ve killed. The many, many people I’ve killed.”) but you do not. And it doesn't matter, my darling, because I'll be with you forever now. As we were meant to be on earth." He said softly, kissing her whitening forehead.

"Promise me you'll never leave me Erik.forgive me for doing this, for letting myself go.. I just couldn't handle just dreaming of you anymore. I felt so unloved, and so.unwanted in this world. (”Sure, I never said anything to Angel about my feelings, but how dare he not read my mind and immediately return them... I mean...”) I wanted to surrender to our beautiful dreams forever."

"Christine.I'll never leave you, no matter what may come between us. I never left your heart, and you never left mine. Ah, that line from long ago, my darling, anywhere you go, let me go too.I never broke my promise." (”I also promised that you would rue the day you did not do all that I asked you to do. You’d better prepare yourself for some bullshit.”)

Despite her cooling body, she felt so warm, so filled with love for this man, remembering suddenly everything, that first time when they had found love, that it was too powerful a love for Christine to accept. (...she’s still underage.) She remembered her older form, in a wedding gown, crying tears as he was, finding strength to only give him her kiss. (It took everything she had not to screw him silly right there on the altar. What? It’s her older form, in this sentence.) Everything flashed back to her, as her eyes began to close as all reflexes went in her body (including twitch, gag, and those reflex saves you make in Dungeons and Dragons) and her hand slipped from Erik's. She could only murmur that she loved him as the last breath left her body, her face showing that she was happy and free.

Erik wept and then stood with her in his arms to the mirror, entering the place where all lived in happiness after a lifetime of pain. There she became alive again, (making Erik’s weeping premature and pointless,) and they loved forever, knowing that the Phantom and Christine did exist, because of an all-consuming love.

Her mother forced open the door, noticing that all sounds from her daughter's room had ceased. (It took her a while, admittedly; actually being able to hear herself think was such a welcome relief.) She came past many books, several pages of paper scattered about, and it was full of Christine's furious handwriting. And then she stopped short of the mirror, noticing her daughter's crumpled form beside it. She looked like she was sleeping, in a wonderful dream, softly smiling. It was only when she noticed that Christine's lips were blue, that her beautiful daughter (had terrible taste in lipsick. Also she) was dead. She cried out loud, picking up her cold body in her mothering arms, smoothing the dark gold curls, and then stopped, knowing that her daughter was suddenly at peace. (Upon learning her daughter was at peace, she dropped Christine’s body like a sack of potatoes and thought no more of her death.)

She picked up the notebook that she had never been able to read, noticing that it was flung open to one certain page. She wiped her eyes and tried to read it, trembling. (She then immediately closed it, realizing it was a collection of thinly veiled sexual fantasies under the pretense of fiction. Having been a teenage girl, herself, Christine’s mom knew better than to fall down that particular rabbit hole. Instead, she picked up a notebook that wasn’t titled like a cheap bodice-ripper and began to read.)

"When she loved him, he was her everything. He lived for her, for the light in her eyes, her voice. She loved him, it did not matter what he looked like, as long as he loved her with the same passion to which she gave him. To live without her, he would most certainly die.and in doing so, he waited in heaven to meet her again, where they would never be separated.. "

(”Of course, then the honeymoon began to peter out on their eternal love. It had been fun and exciting for the first few months, of course. How couldn’t it? She’d whipped herself into an all-fired frenzy, imagining what it would be like to have eternal love, and he’d been so incredibly flattered to have somebody that devoted to him that he couldn’t help but feel a sort of contact high from the emotions running rampant.

(”As time wore on, however, it started to become obvious that she had been so starved for her desires, she had merely come to adore what little her new heavenly husband could provide. Once the embers had managed to cool, she was left with the haunting realization that no man could ever hope to climb the incredible pedestal she had built, on which her lover was meant to stand. Oh, he would try. Like the devil, he would try. For all his effort, though, he would always be left... wanting.

(”The fights would happen, soon afterwards. Not that they were any one’s fault, in particular. They both were confused, and frustrated, and wondering why it was that love suddenly seemed so much more complicated than it was when they were simply daydreaming. It could only end one of two ways, from there: either they could reconcile their visions of love with the realities of life and the world, or theirs would be one of the thousands of relationships every day sacrificed upon the altar of their childish vision of “love.””)

Yes, her daughter most certainly did(”)love(”)the phantom of the opera...